Victoria Holt - The Secret Woman

I said: “They’re searching for you. Come out and show yourself, for Heaven’s sake.”

I took his hand and called to Betsy who came running.

She gasped when she saw the child.

“He was in my cupboard all the time,” I said. “Let everyone know he is safe as quickly as possible.”

I went back to my patient to be told a few minutes later that the doctor had arrived.

It had been an exhausting day. Monique was settled for the night. Dr. Elgin had given her opium and said that she would sleep through till the morning. She needed the rest. So I went to my room and decided on an early night. I had a great deal to think about. I had slipped off my dress and put on my nightgown and was brushing my hair when the door was flung open. I was astonished to see Miss Beddoes. Her face was distorted; she had obviously been crying; her pince-nez were quivering and her skin was blotchy. I had rarely seen such hatred and it was directed against me.

“You’ll say you didn’t do it,” she cried, “but I know you did! I know you. You’re wicked. You’ve always hated me.”

“Miss Beddoes,” I said, “I beg you calm yourself.”

“I am calm,” she cried.

“Forgive me but you are far from calm.”

“Don’t try your nurse’s tricks on me. Don’t soothe me with your soft voice. I believe …”

“And I believe that your good sense has deserted you.”

“It deserted me when I first saw you or I should have been prepared for you.”

“Miss Beddoes, I beg of you be calm. Sit down and tell me what has happened.”

“What you arranged should happen.”

“I have no notion of what you are talking about — so what could I have arranged?”

“That I should go. You’ve been worming your way into young Edward’s confidence ever since you came.”

“But …”

“Oh you’ll deny it. You’re a liar, Nurse Loman. I know that. You want me out of the way. You don’t like me, so you think that you can brush me aside, just like a fly.”

“Do believe me when I say I don’t understand. I can’t defend myself until I know the accusation.”

She sat down on a chair — a frightened woman.

I said gently: “Please tell me.”

“I’m to go,” she said. “Lady Crediton sent for me. She said she doesn’t think I have the right methods for controlling Edward. I’m to pack and leave because she doesn’t like people being here under notice. She’s given me a month’s wages in lieu of notice.”

“Oh … no!”

“Why do you sound surprised? It’s what you wanted.”

“Miss Beddoes, I … I have never thought of anything like this.”

“Weren’t you always implying that I couldn’t look after the boy?”

“I never did.”

“He was always in here.”

“His mother is nearby.”

“It was you he came to see.”

“I liked him. He is a bright boy. It was nothing more than that.” She stood up and came close to me. “You hid him this afternoon. You hid him in that cupboard. Yes you did. I know it.”

“Miss Beddoes, I did no such thing. Why should I?”

“Because you knew they were dissatisfied with me. You thought that would be the last straw, and it was.”

“I can only say that you are wrong. I should be angry with you, but I’m sorry, Miss Beddoes. I’m desperately sorry. Are you all right … for money …”

Her face twisted. Oh God, I thought, help lonely women. Surely those brought up in genteel poverty suffer most.

“I have my month’s wages,” she said.

I went to the table and unlocked a drawer. I took out two five-pound notes.

“Take these,” I said.

“I’d rather die,” she retorted dramatically.

“Please, I beg of you.”

“Why should you beg of me?”

“Because you suspect me of something. I’m not sure what. You think I helped to bring this about. It’s quite untrue but because you have suspected me you owe it to me to take this money.”

She stared from it to me, and I could see the look in her eyes; she was calculating how long it would last. As for myself I was picturing her in some lonely lodging writing for posts that sounded good on paper. I thought of arrogant and demanding mistresses — peevish old ladies who needed a companion; mischievous thoughtless schoolboys like Edward. I felt the tears coming to my eyes.

She saw them too and they were more effective than any words I could have uttered.

“I thought … I thought …” she said.

“That I had hidden the child? But what could I have possibly done that for? Don’t you see it’s all so far-fetched. Oh, I understand. You’re terribly upset. I daresay Lady Crediton was … beastly.”

She nodded.

“Please, will you take this money? It’s not much. I wish I could give you more.”

She sat down then, staring before her, and I put the money into the pocket of her dress.

“I’m going to make you a good cup of tea,” I said. “A nice sweet cup of tea. You’ll be surprised how much better you’ll feel.”

I put the kettle on. I was by no means as calm as I appeared; my hands were shaking a little.

While I was waiting for the kettle to boil, I told her that if I heard of any suitable posts I would get in touch with her. In my profession I went around quite a bit. I would not forget it.

She sipped the tea and when she had drunk it, she said: “I owe you an apology.”

“Forget this,” I said. “I understand. You have had a shock. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I shall leave in the morning,” she said.

“Where shall you go?”

“I know a very reasonable lodging house in the town. I shall soon find something.”

“I know you will,” I said.

And when she left I was sure she looked upon me as a friend. As for myself, I was certainly disturbed, but I had meant it when I said that if ever I heard of a post which would be suitable for her I should let her know.

July 11th. Lady Crediton sent for me today. I had forgotten how awe-inspiring she could be for it was so rarely that I was received into the presence. She sat upright, her back as straight as that of her ornate chair which was like a throne. Her snowy white cap might have been a crown, she wore it so regally.

“Ah, Nurse Loman, pray be seated.”

I sat.

“I sent for you because I have a proposition to put before you. I have had several talks with Dr. Elgin and he informs me that your patient’s health is not improving.”

She looked sternly at me as though this was somehow due to my incompetence, but I was no Miss Beddoes to be intimidated.

I said: “Dr. Elgin has no doubt told you of the reason for this.”

“He believes that our climate is not good for her, and it is because of this that I have come to this decision. Mrs. Stretton is going to pay a visit to her native shores. If this improves her health we shall know that it was indeed the climate here which was detrimental to it.”

“I see.”

“Now, Nurse. Two alternatives present themselves. She will need a nurse in attendance. We have no doubt of that. Dr. Elgin has a good opinion of your efficiency. Therefore I am offering you a choice. You may accompany her and continue to nurse her if you wish; or if you decide that you do not wish to stay with her you will be brought back to England at my expense. If however you do not wish to accompany her, there is nothing to be done but terminate your engagement here.”

I was silent for a while. I had been expecting this of course, but I kept thinking of Anna.

“Well?” she said.

“Your ladyship will understand that it is rather a big decision to make.”

She grudgingly conceded this.

“I admit that it would be a little inconvenient if you were to decide to leave your patient. She has become accustomed to you … and you to her.”

She waited. The use of her favorite word “inconvenient” implied that she expected me to save her from that undesirable state.

“I do agree that I understand her,” I said. “But it is still a big decision for me to make.” Then I said suddenly: “Lady Crediton, may I put a proposition to you?”

She looked startled, and before she could refuse I hurried on: “I have been wondering about the little boy, Edward. He will presumably be with his mother?”

“Y-yes,” she admitted grudgingly. “For a short time perhaps. He is young and would come back here in due course, I daresay.”

“But he would go with her?”

She looked at me with astonishment. This was not the usual manner in which she conducted interviews with her employees.

“Miss Beddoes has gone,” I said. “I could not undertake to look after the child and my patient, but I daresay your ladyship had thought of employing a governess or nurse for the child.”

She was still amazed. She did not discuss the domestic affairs of the Castle with people whom, she considered, they did not concern.

I went on quickly: “It is just possible that a friend of mine might agree to take on the post of looking after Edward. If she did … then I should be delighted to accompany Mrs. Stretton.”

A look of relief came into her face, and she was too taken aback to hide it. She very much wanted me to go with Monique; and she had realized that after all she would be needing a governess for Edward.

When Chantel came to see me that day I was aware of how excited she was as soon as I heard the iron gate click and, looking from a top window, saw her coming across the lawn. She looked almost breathtakingly beautiful. She was so dainty and with her cape flying out about her, her feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground, she was like an illustration from The Golden Fairy Book from which my mother used to read to me.