Her Lady’s Honor, page 17
‘What discussion do you want to have?’
‘I want you to examine yourself. You don’t get to be excused just because your family haven’t been the worst power brokers in history. You still have the money and the title, and it upsets me that you can say such a thing so easily. It just slipped off your tongue without thought of the impact. I want you to do better.’ Beatrice turned away and stared out the window. Nausea rose in Nell’s throat.
‘I’m sorry, Beatrice.’ Beatrice’s fragile life flashed before Nell’s eyes. She’d always had money, a loving family, plenty of support to fall back on whenever she made a mistake, but Beatrice had none of that. She lived in her father’s house at his whim. He controlled her very ability to live, to eat, to sleep with a roof over her head. Everything. And the Captain was hardly a benevolent dictator. His descent into... Nell wasn’t sure what to call it...disarray? No, that word wasn’t strong enough. It had surprised her, given the strong leader he’d been during the war, and she still couldn’t line her view of him up with someone who beat his wife before he went to war. And Nell had forgotten Beatrice’s place in the Captain’s world because Beatrice kissed like someone who knew what she wanted and had the power to take it.
A plan started to form—could she? Nell winced. No, not without asking permission first.
‘Beatrice. What if you owned the farm, not your father?’
Beatrice laughed, a harsh, mean laugh that said Don’t be ridiculous. ‘Women like me don’t own property, Nell. And no, I can see what you are thinking. I couldn’t accept a gift like that from you.’
‘Why not?’
‘The Captain wouldn’t sell the farm anyway.’ Beatrice shook her head. ‘No. I refuse to entertain this as a possibility. Just because you enjoyed a bit of kissing, now you want to buy me a house. I’m not your damned mistress, Nell.’
Nell didn’t think her heart could get much more bruised, but it could. Beatrice ripped the beating mess out of her chest and stomped on it for good measure.
‘Was it really so awful between us?’ Nell had to know.
Beatrice raised her eyebrows. ‘This is not about last night. It’s about the future and what expectations you have of me. My existence is already dictated by one person. I’m not simply going to swap my allegiances to you because of a few kisses.’ A flush broke out across Beatrice’s skin. Nell wasn’t going to let her gaze drop from Beatrice’s face. She wasn’t going to stare at Beatrice’s mostly naked body. It would be the worst insult and destroy all her chance at fixing her mistake.
‘A bit more than a few kisses.’
‘Sex is not worth giving away what little freedom I have to someone who readily talks about my life without really knowing what it is like. My life is not a joke.’
‘But?’ Nell shook her head and shut her lips. This wasn’t the place to argue with Beatrice. Not until she’d done her homework and better understood all the nuances. ‘No, I’m sorry. I won’t ask any more of you.’
Beatrice’s face changed briefly, a quick flash of doubt, before she straightened again.
‘What time is breakfast? They do serve breakfast here?’
‘Yes. You should bathe and we will go down together.’
Beatrice rolled her eyes. ‘No. I will check the children, then we will go to breakfast. They’ve never stayed anywhere like this, they have no idea of the protocol, they’ll be worried.’
‘Oh.’ Nell had forgotten about Beatrice’s siblings, vaguely assuming that Grace would be with them. She was so unaccustomed to thinking about other people, having lived alone for so many years, that it would be a long adjustment to factor them in to all her decisions. She’d really made a mess of everything. Beatrice was right—Nell had a bucket load of wealth and class to fall back on and she didn’t understand how it affected others. She thought she’d understood, but obviously she’d barely made a dent into beginning to understand.
‘How about you do that? I’ll see if...’ Nell needed to escape and figure out what to do next. Hopefully, she’d had a letter or telegram from her family, but that was a distraction from her current problem. She might have the money, but Beatrice had all the emotional power and knowledge. It was incredibly humbling to see Beatrice in action as she understood the dynamics of the world and still had the strength to live her life as she wanted. Beatrice had never given in to the expectation to marry for her own benefit, and it had to have been tempting to use a marriage to improve her situation in life and get away from the Captain.
‘Yes, you go and do whatever it is wealthy people do, and I’ll organise everyone.’
Nell held up her hands. ‘That isn’t what I meant. I’m so out of my depth here.’
‘So am I. You take this place and their services for granted, but have you considered how foreign it feels for someone like me?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Take dinner last night for example. Thankfully we ate in private, because as it was, it arrived on that shiny trolley with all that cutlery—if you hadn’t said to Ira that you use the ones on the outside first and work your way in with each serving, I wouldn’t have known what to do. I’ve never used more than one knife and one fork in my life. And it’s not just that...it’s everything. The dress shop and the way you interacted with them. It’s all new and overwhelming, and right after...’
‘I see. I can see how it seems like too many new things on a very emotional day.’
‘Yes!’ Beatrice grabbed her brush and started attacking her hair with vigour. Nell couldn’t look away, all that fury as she dragged the brush through her long locks, and the way her full breasts swayed with every motion. ‘Yes. I’ve just buried my mother, and we can’t get home, and suddenly I have to pretend that I belong in this world that I obviously don’t belong in.’
‘It’s all too much?’ Nell guessed. A sudden doubt flooded her brain—was last night just an emotional release for Beatrice, and Nell had overstated their connection? Nell had tried to forget her pain that way a few times during the war, and she knew she had no emotional connection to the women she’d lost herself in. Was Nell dreaming of love where none existed? It was so easy to chat to Beatrice, and Beatrice challenged her on so many levels. Nell knew she could easily fall for Beatrice and imagine a life together, travelling, working, kissing.
A knock hammered on the door, loud and rapid, and Beatrice squawked.
‘Here, throw this blanket around your shoulders. I’ll get it.’ Nell tossed a blanket in Beatrice’s direction then grabbed another blanket and wrapped herself in it, so she was modest enough for whoever was bashing their door in. She opened the door to see all of Beatrice’s siblings standing outside.
‘We are hungry.’ Johnny rubbed his tummy and everyone giggled.
‘Come in.’
‘Have you got the keys to your rooms?’ Beatrice called out and a chorus of yesses came from the collection of siblings. Nell stepped aside to let them all in.
‘There is breakfast in the dining room downstairs. Once Beatrice and myself are dressed, we will all go together.’
‘Will they have bacon?’ Dafydd asked with a cheeky grin.
‘I imagine they would have had bacon before the war. Most hotels of this size have an extended menu for breakfast. Breakfasts in hotels like this are often modelled on the big house hunting breakfasts with bacon, eggs, fried bread, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding, and baked beans.’
Dafydd laughed. ‘Let’s go!’
‘They won’t have bacon.’ Beatrice sighed. ‘Most of Wales is still on rations.’
‘Of course. I’m sorry I got everyone’s hopes up. I haven’t been to an Edwardian style breakfast like this since before the war.’ Nell didn’t want to say that rations didn’t mean the product didn’t exist, it only meant it was scarce and thus expensive. A hotel like this probably had access to bacon, but whether they would use the precious resource for breakfast was a different question.
‘Have you stayed in a hotel before? It’s my first time,’ Johnny asked. Nell grinned at his cautious curiosity. Just as yesterday, Dafydd was first to pull off his shoes, ready to splash into floodwaters, while Johnny listened to her and declared they should take the train into town instead. He had a good practical head on him for a young child.
‘Lads. You don’t need to quiz Nell about it,’ Grace said.
‘It’s fine. I stayed in plenty of hotels when I was a child because we travelled a lot for my father’s work. Often we would stay in friends’ houses, but we also stayed in lovely hotels like this one. You can ask me any questions you want.’
‘What does your father do for work?’
Nell beckoned her finger and bent down to their head height. ‘Lean in close. It’s a secret.’
‘Tell me too, Miss Nell.’ Ira bounced up and down, and Nell waited until they were all tucked in close before she whispered in her most obvious stage whisper.
‘He’s a spy for the government.’ Nell didn’t dare glance at Beatrice to see her response. She really wanted to see—she was a sucker for punishment—but she kept her attention on the children.
‘Really?’
‘Yes and no. He used to be a spy when he was younger. Now he breeds racehorses and we would travel all over Europe to watch them run when they were in big races.’
‘Like Goodwood and the Grand National?’
‘Yes, and the Grand Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe, and the Italian Derby, and...’ Nell watched their eyes widen.
‘Who is the best horse you’ve seen?’ normally quiet Johnny asked in excited tones.
Nell grinned. ‘That’s an easy one to answer. Sceptre. I was there when she won the Oaks in ’02. I was thirteen and she is easily the best horse of the last thirty years.’
‘Sceptre.’ Johnny breathed with awe. Nell tucked away that little titbit and wondered if she shouldn’t see if Pa might employ him as an apprentice stablehand. First, she’d want to see him working with Tommy to assess his potential. ‘What about Gainsborough?’
‘Last year’s winner and triple crown winner? I missed seeing him in action, but his achievements are impressive. I was elsewhere.’
‘It’s a shame they retired him.’
‘Oh, they have? I guess he’s done enough, triple crown winner, and won against the older horses, but racing fans will miss seeing him out for another year.’
‘Where were you?’ Ira asked.
‘When Gainsborough won the Derby? I was in France near the front, helping with the warhorses. It does seem strange to me that I could be in the midst of an ugly war while at home the Derby is still run and won.’ Nell pulled her blanket tighter around her body.
‘Lads, we can talk about this more at breakfast. Please let Nell and me get dressed.’ Beatrice’s tight voice betrayed her impatience with this conversation, and the pinched sound reminded Nell that she needed to apologise in a way that really mattered. Words were not enough. Only a few minutes after being scolded on her wealth and her inability to understand Beatrice’s life, here she was rattling on about hunting lodge breakfasts and travelling around Europe to watch horse races. The difference between her upbringing and the way Beatrice put her siblings first was stark. And every time Nell opened her mouth, out poured more words that grew the gulf between them.
‘Come on.’ Grace opened the door and ushered her siblings out.
‘I’m sorry. They get a bit carried away.’
‘No. It’s fine. I’m happy to talk horses any day.’ Nell threw the blanket on her bed and grabbed her clothes. She used a cloth to wash away yesterday’s pain-induced sweats. A proper bath would have to wait. She needed to learn how to put Beatrice’s family before her own needs. Either that, or she needed to get on a train and go home to Newmarket and never think about Beatrice ever again. And she really didn’t want to run home with her tail between her legs. She could find a way to make this all better. She was a healer by trade, horses, not people. Oh, who was she kidding? She was way out of her depth.
Chapter Twenty
Beatrice stood on the street outside the hotel, holding Ira’s hand firmly so she didn’t bolt into traffic. The Aberystwyth council ban on motorcars had been lifted during the war; the councillors finally realised that motor vehicles weren’t going away, and shops needed them to deliver goods easily. Horse drawn carriages and carts mingled with the motorcars. All of them moved slowly along the main street of Aberystwyth, and it seemed like a lot of traffic compared to the empty narrow road that threaded its way past their farm in Capel Bangor.
The rain had finally stopped and blue skies were nudging away the grey clouds. Here in the centre of town, the impact of the past week’s rain wasn’t apparent, although they’d overheard comments during breakfast that the Rheidol has burst its banks and the fields down by the harbour were under water. A lone bay horse stood outside a building down the street, his head hanging down. Poor beast. She turned, as Nell walked down the front steps onto the street.
‘Nell. I think that horse might need your help.’
Nell immediately shifted from the elegant Lady Beatrice had come to know into something entirely different. She moved with determination and speed. If anything, this version of Nell was more intimidating than ever. Knowledgeable and competent, like she knew precisely what she needed to do. Beatrice’s stomach churned and she realised she was jealous. She’d never had that certainty that she was needed and only she could solve a problem.
‘Come on,’ she called out to her siblings, who were wandering around staring at the displays in the windows beside the hotel. She’d been holding Ira’s hand since they’d walked out of the door, and she pulled her closer. ‘We’d better follow Nell and see if we can help.’
Johnny gasped. ‘The horse!’ He started running, and Beatrice opened her mouth to call out to him to slow down. Johnny ducked past an elderly lady walking in the middle of the footpath, then around a young woman walking with two small children. Not many people were out and about yet, but the streets weren’t totally clear either. Motor trucks belching smoke from their noisy engines mingled on the road with horses pulling carts, though the horses didn’t seem to notice either the noise or the smell.
Beatrice felt like everywhere she looked the world was changing, and she was drowning in inaction. Even the horses were dealing with change better than she was. Drowning, that’s how she felt. Just like Mother, beaten down by a world that didn’t value her and with grief piled higher and higher until she’d been unable to go on. Was that the future Beatrice faced too? She wanted to shout at Johnny to be careful and go around everyone else, because at least that was some practical advice. She wanted to take the way she felt when she kissed Nell and apply it to the rest of her life. She didn’t want this clear certainty that her life was already decided for her without her input; she could do without that kind of clarity.
‘Leave him.’ Grace placed her hand on Beatrice’s arm. Further down the street, Nell had unsaddled the horse. She must have said something to Johnny as he ran into the shop beside the drooping horse.
‘Is that Tommy?’ Dafydd asked. Beatrice gasped. She glanced around wildly for the Captain.
‘Maybe...’ She didn’t want to confirm.
‘Where is he?’ Grace asked. With a sneer, Grace continued, ‘Where is the Captain?’
‘I don’t know.’ Tension built in Beatrice’s shoulders and neck. She’d forgotten how much of her life she spent on tenterhooks whenever the Captain was present. One night of pleasure with Nell, and all that stress had been swept away. Temporarily. Until Nell had reminded her of her precise place in the world—someone’s servant who only existed to please other people and make their lives more comfortable. To gift them with pleasure, leaving her to try to grab a little piece for herself in the moment.
Standing on the street, her spine stiffened, and her shoulder muscles gained that familiar tightness, like she was waiting for the next disaster. The Captain’s fickle moods could go from approving to outright abusive in seconds, and she spent every moment in his house waiting for the inevitable hurt as he lashed out. Together with her remaining siblings, they marched quickly down the street towards Tommy and Nell. She hoped her siblings didn’t have the same sense of impending doom. Once they found the Captain, there would be a price to pay, that much was certain.
‘Nell.’
‘Can you please follow Johnny in there?’ Nell waved her hand to the establishment beside them. ‘Please get water for Tommy. He is badly dehydrated.’
‘I’ll go.’ Grace rushed off, dragging Dafydd by his hand. For once, Dafydd allowed himself to be towed along. Beatrice kept hold of Ira’s hand, unable to speak her main concern aloud. She concentrated on keeping Ira away from the distressed horse, although to her eye, Tommy did rather look like he’d collapse.
‘Will he live?’ It was the easiest question among those arguing for space in her head.
‘Probably. He’s a tough old warhorse, but we will have to be careful that he doesn’t gulp too much water and get colic. This next part is going to look cruel, and maybe you want to take Ira and go and look at the shops or something.’
‘She’s a farm girl like me. She’s seen sick animals before, haven’t you, Ira?’
‘Yes. I remember when Daisy the cow died. She was very old though. Is Tommy going to die too?’
Nell’s mouth kicked up at one side. ‘Not if I can help it.’
‘Has he been standing here since the...’ Beatrice couldn’t say it. It’d been a day since they’d buried Mother and Father had disappeared into town with Tommy.
‘I don’t know. It’s possible. He is tied up outside a pub, and didn’t someone mention the Captain was going to have a commiseration drink with friends?’ Nell gently stroked Tommy’s ears. Beatrice shouldn’t feel the motion on her skin as a tingly reminder of last night. She shouldn’t let herself be lulled into relaxing around Nell, not when they stood beside the Captain’s horse and he might arrive at any moment. Not when Nell’s apology had sounded forced, like she wanted to be forgiven instantly. Beatrice shook her head; she had bigger problems right this second. If the Captain noticed his horse was ill, they’d all get the blame, even if he’d left Tommy here himself. Fairness wasn’t in his vocabulary, at least not when it came to family. Nell seemed to have a completely different view of the Captain; yet another way they saw the world from utterly different perspectives.
