An Indelicate Situation (The Weymouth Trilogy) (31 page)

Despite the seri
ousness of
he
r
situation
– a situation which had resulted in
that
most unpleasant sick feeling in the pit of her stomach which
had
resolutely
refused to budge
throughout the two days
since Mrs William had told her to pack her trunk and leave – Maggie had to smile with them. Mrs Berkeley had already told her that she had not always been so grand. Maggie had heard the words but in some ways she had hardly believed
them
. After all, in her experience
-
which
,
granted,
was not large
-
it was often those
people
who had
suddenly
risen up the social scale who were the most haughty and unapproachable. And yet Mrs Berkeley was never haughty, never unapproachable – except, perhaps, in having s
o sweet, so superior a disposition
that ordinary mortals must surely feel unworthy of even
daring to
address her.
She was finding it difficult to believe that she, too, had suffered from similar indignities to
the ones she was experiencing for herself
.

‘At least it provides a roof over my head, Mrs Wright. I – err – I expect you have heard of the reason I am here
?
I was not sure where else I could turn. I was fortunate in that the landlady took pity on me and allowed me in without a deposit. I have had to pay her
rent
in advance, however.’

Mrs Berkeley, who was looking a lot less slim than previously, and a lot more tired,
had taken the proffered seat. Maggie stood rather awkwardly with
Mrs Wright
, who was looking out of the window.

‘Yes,’ said
Kathryn
. ‘Yes. It is because we have heard of your predicament that we are here. We wanted to assure you that neither of us believes one word of what Georgiana
has been a
ccusing you of. Indeed, quite
the contrary, which we
hope to be able to prove in due course. But we also wanted to offer you some practical
aid – some assistance which would actually help us out as well
.
We cannot stand quite by and see such an injustice being done to you.
It is not right.
So we would like to make a little proposition to you.
Mr Berkeley
and I have discussed the matter at length and are quite agreed
up
on it.
Now,
I am afraid that you may see it as a step down, Miss Owens, but perhaps it may suffice for you for the moment at any rate. You wil
l remember
our
daughter, Kate.
I recall that
you met her briefly in the street one time.
She is four and a half
years old
and quite bright, I think
. She will be five next March
. Sally, our nurse
, is becoming quite elderly. It is hard
enough
for her to manage three children on her own
, and once the new baby arrives it will certainly not be possible for her manage all four
. So we were wondering whether you might be interested in joining us at Belvoir House in the capacity of part
-
nursemaid, part governess to Kate – just starting her off with her numbers and letters
, listening to her read
, helping with her sewing
and drawing
– that sort of thing – but also seeing to her personal needs when her papa and I are otherwise engaged?
It would mean a good deal to Sally to share the load a little, and we should be most grateful
if you could find it in you to
agree.
I hope you do not mind my asking, Miss Owens.
I know it is not quite what you are used to and
I do not mean to insult you
...
.’

Maggie could see that Mrs Berkeley felt quite hesitant to
make
what she saw as a
demeaning offer
to
her
and she
immediately
wanted
to reassure her that she was not at all insulted
by it
.
Insulted?
No indeed. She
did not feel a
ny
insult
whatsoever
. Indeed
, she
felt
grateful – grateful and very, very pleased. Kate, she
already
knew, w
ould prove to be
an extremely amenable sort of a
child – not a perfect child by any means
(who would want that, anyway?)
but a well trained one who would do one’s bidding and
would
not attempt to murder her brothers –
and the opportunity to live at
Belvoir House
–
the beautiful house which she had so fallen in love with as soon as she had seen it
-
the opportunity of
gaining
such an unexceptionable situation so quickly after her disgrace
-
well, what more could she
possibly
have
asked for?
Other than Mr Staveley turning up that very afternoon, fortune in
hand, taking her lovingly in his arms and begging her to marry
him immediately -
a prospect which, though singularly attractive, seemed rather less likely than the alternative which Mrs Berkeley ha
d so recently opened up for her -
s
he could think of nothing that would delight her more.

S
o Maggie
started to thank her benefactress – started
to thank her
and then stopped. Most embarrassingly she found that her
lips
had started to
trembl
e
, that her
eyes
had started to fill
and that her voice
had
become
quite choked.
As much as she wanted to
,
she found that it was
quite
impossible
to
voice her thanks
.
She looked at Mrs Berkeley despairingly.
For a second
Mrs Berkeley looked back at her, perhaps a little startled
. But she did not look back at her for long. Seeing the distress that she was in, and responding instantly to it, she
rose a little awkwardl
y from the chair
,
stepped towards Maggie
with a beaming smile, put her arms
around her and gave her a friendly
little
hug.

‘
Shall we
take that as a ‘yes’ then, Miss Owens
?
’ she said
,
releas
ing
her
gent
ly
and offer
ing
her a handkerchief
,
which
Maggie
took
. ‘
Thank you so much. I am so pleased.
Then a
llow us to give you a hand to re
-
label your trunk and we
sha
ll get it delivered
over
to Belvoir House
in
absolutely
no time
at all
.
It is a pity that you will have wasted your rent but I suppose that
that
will not worry you
too much
?
’

It is hardly any wonder that Maggie was feeling a little overwhelmed and emotional as she sat on the bed in a small but very pretty attic room overlooking the
kitchen
garden at the rear of Belvoir House. In the space of only a very few days her life had taken so many twists and turns it was scarcely imaginable. On the one hand there had been the shock of
Mr Wright
’s clandestine visit to her chamber that terrible night, leading to her proud rejection of him and the spiteful accusations of his wife. There had been the panic induced by the need to find herself some immediate accommodation, the concern about however she might pay for it and the depressing let
-
down of the miserable room which she had final
ly managed to secure
. But the totally unexpected and entirely welcome intervention of Mrs Berkeley had negated all of these. After all her trials and tribulations she had found herself transported to a beautiful house, with a most charming employer and a motherly mentor by name of Sally to take her in hand, and one delightful little girl to be her only charge. So from the depths of the despair from which, scarcely eight hours before, it had appeared that she should find no immediate or easy way out, Maggie suddenly found herself smiling once again – smiling, a little disbelievingly but in relief, that here, at last, she might actually be able to make a reasonable life for herself. She could still hardly believe her luck. She looked around her new room appreciatively. It was light and bright, with a large window. The furniture, though perhaps a little on the old side, was perfectly respectable and most attractive – in a cream painted satinwood, with chintz accessories – and more than adequate for her needs. Mrs Berkeley had thoughtfully asked that some flowers should be brought up to her. They sat there now on a table – some yellow roses from the garden – providing a delicate scent to welcome her to her new home. Mrs Berkeley. What a lovely, sweet person she was. And Mr Berkeley – elegant, fun, totally engaging.
How very like Freddy he was.
He seemed the perfect foil to his calm, eternally thoughtful wife. Maggie realised that she was fond of them both already.

If Maggie had felt bewildered enough about her current situation and how she had got there, the news of Captain Wright and Mr Staveley’s imminent return to Weymouth, duly transmitted to Belvoir a few days later, served only to add to her confusion and make her feel anxious, impatient
, desperate
and strangely disturbed, all at the very same time.

It was the excited Mrs John who bustled up to Belvoir House, letter in hand, to share the news with her relations.

‘They have got themselves the promise of a boat, Kathryn,’ she panted, as soon as she was let in through the door. ‘Just think of it – John shall have his own command at last. I am so pleased about it I can hardly keep still! I am still not sure exactly how it all happened
, and
John is not the best corres
pondent in the world
. But apparently they had the good fortune to bump into an Admiral of their acquaintance whilst they wer
e wandering about Town
. It appears that he remembered them for one reason or another and when he learned that they were both in need of a boat he used his influence to get them one. I can
hardly believe it. What
a tremendous piece of luck....’

By this time Maggie had discovered that her life at Belvoir was to be utterly different from the one she had experienced at Grosvenor Place. Not only had she been given a full tour of the property by the ever obliging lady of the house
, and the extent of her duties and responsibilities
and a most generous salary
fully agreed with her,
but she had also been assured of a
very warm welcome at any time, and
whether there were visitors or not
,
in all of
the public rooms. Both Mr and Mrs Berkeley had expressed the sincere hope that she should practice on the splendid pianoforte in the drawing room whenever she wished to do so. The children, whom she had been introduced to at the earliest opportunity, were well mannered and affectionate – they were obviously well used to being cuddled and played with – and the nursery in which she was sitting with Sally at that very moment was just what any child – or nursemaid – could possibly wish for – bright, welcoming, replete with exciting and interesting toys and covered in a blue striped fabric which was hung diago
nally down
the sloping
ceiling
s
to
the
wall
s
and which gave the whole room the warm, intimate and extremely pleasing atmosphere of a most exotic tent.

Yet in spite of all of this – the welcome, the comfort, the satisfaction of knowing that her pupil was an affectionate and amenable child who would be perfectly rewarding to teach
, the generosity of her charming employers
– in spite
of all of this, Maggie was still
finding that
her gratitude and relief were being overshadowed all the time by a stubborn feeling of despondency
.
Indeed, in spite of telling herself that she was the luckiest creature that
had
ever lived,  despite knowing that she was incredibly fortunate to have found so unexceptionable a situation so quickly after her disgrace, she was finding still that
her feeling of terror
had
refused to go away
.
And though she was perfectly alive to the reasons for this anxiety, she was somewhat at a loss to know what she could do about it.
For
it was all to do with Freddy. Freddy was in her head all the time. He would not
leave it
for a moment. He was ther
e, day and night,
in her thoughts and in her dreams
– talking to her, listening to her, smiling at her in his peculiarly bashful yet exquisitely appealing
little
way, taking her in his arms and kissing her for a deliciously delirious lifetime
.
 
She had missed him when she
had known him to be
in London, but
now
she knew that Freddy would soon be back, that Freddy would return to Weymouth full of his happy news, perhaps hoping to share it with her, perhaps hoping that she would spare him a little of her time, only to be greeted, instead, by Mrs William’s spiteful accusations and the shock of her dismissa
l
, it was somehow even worse
. She knew that she was desperate not to disappoint him. She knew that she
was
desperate to see him.
She ached to see him and talk with him
and be with him
once again.
But – well, she was also
still haunted by the
terrif
ying thought
that this dear, dear man might be so disgusted with the very idea that she – Maggie – might steal from his mama that he would straightway cut off all intercourse with her for ever.
And so while she knew that she wanted to see him she was als
o dreading the moment when that
reunion might take place
– to see the look of rejection and disgust upon his much-loved face, to see him turn away from her in scorn. But at least a reunion might give her the opportunity to set things to rights once more, the opportunity to state her case, and yet a reunion was certainly not inevitable.
Indeed, he may avoid the very possibility of seeing her again.
But what could Maggie do about it? It was totally inappropriate for her to visit at Grosvenor Place – it was inconceivable that a governess should even think of doing such a thing
-
and, indeed, other than to clear her name with the lady and gentleman concerned she had absolutely no desire at all to do so. Mr Staveley had not been in the habit of calling at Belvoir House. Why should he? So unless she were to be exceedingly lucky and spot him in the street one day
,
which she had to admit to herself was extremely unlikely
,
she should have no real chance of meeting up with him at all.