The blessed child, p.36
The Blessed Child, page 36
‘Right, we’d best be off and get him settled.’ She too was eager for this part to be over with. She could almost feel Nessie’s pain coming off her in waves. ‘And we’ll see you in a couple of days, shall we?’
Nessie nodded numbly as Connie headed for the door, feeling as if her heart was being ripped out of her chest. And then they were gone and as Nessie listened to the clash of the horse’s hooves as the carriage rattled away on the cobbles, fresh tears rained down her pale cheeks.
A couple of days later, Andre suggested, ‘Why don’t you let me drive you to Haunchwood House today? It’s time you went to see how George is settling in. You will not be happy until you do.’
She nodded, knowing he was right yet dreading it all the same. It was going to be so hard.
‘All right, shall we go this afternoon? I have a client coming in this morning to organise their husband’s funeral.’
‘Very well.’ He smiled and left her to prepare for the meeting.
Later that afternoon, as they arrived at Haunchwood House, Nessie’s stomach was in a knot.
‘It might be best if I wait in the carriage for you.’ Andre suggested tactfully and she nodded appreciatively. She had dressed carefully and twisted her hair into a neat pleat on the back of her head and when a young maid answered the door she told her, ‘I am here to see Mrs Dorsey. Would you mind telling her Miss Carson is here, please?’
The maid’s eyes stretched wide as she realised who Nessie was. She must be Marcie’s sister, the one who had been looking after Master George before the mistress brought him home.
‘O’ course, miss,’ she answered. ‘Would yer step inside? I’ll tell the mistress yer here.’
Nessie stepped into the large hallway and once the maid had scurried away she glanced around. It was a very beautiful home for a child to be brought up in, she was forced to admit, and she tried to find some comfort in that.
The maid returned shortly and said, ‘The mistress will see you now, miss. She’s in the morning room.’ She led Nessie along the hall and stopped to tap on a door before opening it. ‘Go on in, miss.’
Nessie entered the room and the first thing she saw was Connie Dorsey sitting on a large sofa with George fast asleep on her lap.
‘Ah, Miss Carson,’ she greeted her. ‘I was hoping you’d call soon. Would you like to hold George while I order us some tea? He’s just been fed and he’s all full up and content and has dropped off to sleep, I’m afraid, but there’s time for you to give him a cuddle before the nanny comes to take him back to the nursery.’
Her greeting was so friendly that Nessie was at a loss as to what to say so she merely took George from her arms and feasted her eyes on his face. He did indeed look very well and contented, she had to admit, and Mrs Dorsey did seem to be genuinely fond of him.
The woman pulled a long, silken bell pull at the side of the fireplace and once the same little maid who had admitted Nessie appeared, she ordered a tray of tea before turning back to her guest.
‘He’s settling beautifully,’ she assured her kindly and Nessie nodded. She could see that she was telling the truth. His clothes were exquisite, far better than any she had ever been able to supply him with.
‘We’ve employed a nanny and a wet nurse for him,’ the woman went on, keen to put her mind at rest. ‘Although, I have to admit he doesn’t spend an awful lot of time up in the nursery. I like to bath and change him myself. Perhaps you would like to meet them and see the nursery?’
‘N-no, it’s all right,’ Nessie told her. Somehow, she knew that the woman was telling the truth. ‘I … I just wanted to see for myself that he wasn’t fretting.’
‘As you can see,’ Connie Dorsey replied, ‘he appears to be well.’ Then not wishing to hurt Nessie’s feelings she hurried on, ‘Although, I’m sure he’s missed you in his own little way.’
Nessie shook her head. Thankfully he wasn’t really old enough to miss her and she was glad of that for his sake.
The tea arrived then and Connie hastily began to strain it into two fine bone china cups and saucers. Thankfully she knew that Nessie could have no idea of the trouble George’s coming had caused between herself and her husband. She and Johnny had rowed bitterly on the night he had arrived home from one of his businesses to find George there.
‘Why the hell have you brought that bastard into our house?’ he had roared.
‘Because he’s our bastard, that’s why, and he’s staying so get used to the idea!’ she had roared back, equally angry.
‘But what are people going to say?’
Connie had snorted and tossed her head and in that moment Johnny knew he had lost the argument. She could be as stubborn as an old mule when she set her mind to something. ‘Since when have we ever cared what people say about us, eh? He’s George’s son, even if he was born the wrong side of the blanket and he’s going to be brought up with us where he belongs, so get used to the idea!’
And funnily enough, he appeared to be doing just that. Only the night before she had caught him in the hallway talking to the child as the nanny took him up to the nursery while they had their meal, and now she had every hope that in no time at all he would dote on the little chap as much as she did. Johnny’s bark had always been worse than his bite so now she was prepared to sit back and let nature take its course. After all, who could resist such a beautiful baby for long?
She handed Nessie her tea but she could see that the girl was keen to be gone. ‘It’s very kind of you but now that I’ve seen him, I really ought to be on my way,’ Nessie told her politely.
‘Are you sure? You’re very welcome to stay for a while, lass.’
‘No, I … thank you.’ Nessie quickly handed him back and headed for the door.
She was almost there when Connie told her, ‘Do come again as soon as you like. You’re his auntie and I want you to stay a part of his life.’
The two women stared at each other for a long moment and despite everything, Nessie somehow knew that they were going to get along. ‘I will and thank you.’
‘That was a quick visit,’ Andre said, surprised when Nessie got into the carriage. ‘Was the baby all right?’
‘Very much so,’ she admitted, keeping her eyes straight ahead. ‘I think Mrs Dorsey loves him already.’
‘Then that’s good, yes?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, Andre, it’s very good.’
Noting the conflicted look on her face, Andre said no more and they continued their journey in silence.
Chapter Fifty
Nessie and Andre were married at Chilvers Coton Church in the first week in November. As she had requested, it was a very quiet affair with only herself and Andre, Reuben and Maria and Molly and Charlie present. Nessie looked stunning in the green gown Andre had insisted she should have and as she walked down the aisle carrying a posy of small white roses, Reuben, who was giving her away, whispered, ‘You look beautiful, sis.’
She peeped up at him and smiled, but as she took her place at Andre’s side she couldn’t help thinking of Oliver and she had to blink back the tears. His mother had informed her the week before on one of her visits to George that Oliver had gone to take up a medical practice in London and she missed him every single day. At least now they wouldn’t have to constantly see each other and think of what might have been. And so, with the weak sun shining down on them through the stained-glass windows, she and Andre solemnly made their vows to each other, and Nessie pushed all thoughts of Oliver aside and silently promised herself that she would be the best wife to Andre that she could possibly be.
After the service, Andre took them to a hotel in the town where he had booked a delicious wedding breakfast. The mood was light as Andre stood after the meal and announced proudly, ‘I wish to propose a toast to my new wife.’ They all raised their glasses, smiling and wishing them well. Nessie smiled back, determined that she would make the best of this marriage, if only for Andre’s sake. After all his kindness, it was the least he deserved.
Once they arrived back at the funeral parlour, two of the soup kitchen volunteers who had stayed behind to look after Joseph rushed forward to greet them and shake their hands.
‘How does it feel being Mrs Chevalier?’ they teased with a wicked twinkle in their eyes.
‘I’ll tell you when I get used to it,’ she answered, blushing.
Andre had another single bed moved into his room in his living quarters and it had been agreed that Molly and Charlie would now live in Nessie’s old rooms. They were so much nicer than the cottage they lived in in the courtyards and Molly was thrilled.
‘I’ll keep Joseph in here wi’ us fer tonight,’ she told Nessie with a saucy wink and it was all Nessie could do not to laugh aloud. If only they knew the truth. Even so as bedtime approached she felt strangely nervous. She was painfully aware that the marriage was not going to be a conventional one but just what would Andre expect of her?
She need not have worried. Andre undressed behind a screen in the corner of the room, emerging in a long nightshirt and once he had climbed into his bed she discreetly did the same. As she was passing him to get to her own bed he caught her hand and told her softly, ‘You do know that I love and treasure you, don’t you, Nessie? As much as I am able to love a woman, I mean. You have given me respectability and I promise you that from this day forward I shall honour you and do all in my power to make you happy.’
Looking down on his dear face she realised that she had come to love him too. Not in the way that she loved Oliver, admittedly, but as she was discovering, there were all different kinds of love.
‘And I love you too and I promise that I will be the very best wife to you that I can possibly be.’ She hopped into bed and they held hands across the gap that divided them until they finally fell asleep.
Word of their marriage soon spread about the town and suddenly Nessie was treated with a newfound respect. She was no longer the penniless girl from a tumbledown cottage and the daughter of a murderer, but the wife of a prosperous businessman and she used the fact to her advantage. Now the doors to the more salubrious homes were open to her and invites to afternoon tea or coffee mornings arrived on an almost daily basis. Nessie attended them whenever work permitted, keen to get the wealthier members of society involved in the soup kitchen and her other charitable schemes.
Personally, as she confided to Andre, she found many of the women she visited were terrible snobs but even so they were keen to outdo their neighbours and help, and in no time at all they were donating money so that many of the children whose parents could not afford the penny a day to send them to school were now able to attend. All in all, things were going well and despite their rather unorthodox marriage, Nessie was content and as each day passed, her affection for her husband grew.
There were still times when she thought of Oliver but each time he popped into her head she firmly pushed thoughts of him away. She was still busy helping Andre to run the business, which was thriving. She visited George, who was also thriving in his grandmother’s care, on a weekly basis, as well as continuing to care for Joseph, and do her charity work. All of this left her very little time to herself. Some days, when she tumbled into bed, she was so tired that Andre was concerned she was doing too much. But the distractions helped to ease the pain of losing Oliver.
Almost before she knew it Christmas was racing towards them. The shop windows in the town were decorated with holly, ivy and Christmas baubles and there was a hint of snow in the air, and Nessie couldn’t help feeling nervous as she thought of the visit they were expecting from Andre’s mother.
‘But what if she doesn’t like me?’ she fretted to Andre as they sat together in front of a roaring fire one cold, frosty December evening.
Andre chuckled. ‘Ma cherie, my maman would like you even if you had two heads,’ he assured her. ‘You have made an honest man of me. In her latest letter she says that even papa can bear to have my name mentioned again now. No, you need have no fears on that score. She will love you as I do.’
And so Nessie made the guest room as comfortable as it could be and eventually, two weeks before Christmas, they went together to meet his mother from the train.
‘Are you sure I look all right?’ she questioned nervously as they stood on the platform waiting for the train to arrive. She was wearing the new burgundy velvet dress and cloak that Andre had bought her and she looked every inch the lady.
‘You look perfect.’ He squeezed her hand affectionately just as they heard the sound of the train approaching and she sighed. It was too late to do anything about it now, even if she didn’t.
Within minutes the train drew to a halt in a hiss of steam and the guard began to pace alongside it, throwing the carriage doors open.
‘There she is!’ Andre pointed to a woman who was stepping down onto the platform two carriages away and before she knew it, Nessie was being hauled along beside him.
‘Maman!’ The woman turned and at first sight of her Nessie was shocked. She was tall and slim and although she was no longer in her first flush of youth she was still remarkably attractive: her skin was unlined apart from a few tiny ones around her eyes and she had high cheekbones. Nessie imagined that she must have been quite beautiful when she was younger. She was elegantly dressed in a hat trimmed with tall feathers that fluttered becomingly at the least movement of her head and a travelling costume in a rich royal-blue colour made of fine wool that matched the colour of her eyes.
‘Andre!’ She opened her arms and he walked into them. Then suddenly remembering his manners he turned to Nessie and drawing her forward he told her, ‘This is my wife, Nessie, Maman.’
The woman smiled and held out her hand. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you at last.’ The woman’s smile was genuine and Nessie began to relax a little. Perhaps the visit would go well after all.
‘It’s lovely to meet you too,’ she responded, and while Andre went to fetch a porter to collect his mother’s luggage, Nessie was left to guide the woman from the station to the waiting carriage.
Once they were seated inside the woman clasped Nessie’s hands in hers. ‘I have so looked forward to this,’ she told her with a happy smile. ‘I am sure we will get along well.’
Nessie returned the smile.
‘And I believe from what Andre has told me in his letters, you have your little brother living with you too, yes?’
Nessie nodded. She and Andre had discussed what they should tell her about Joseph’s true parentage and had decided that there was no need for her to know the shocking truth.
‘Joseph, isn’t it? And the poor little soul is not well?’
‘That’s right, the doctors think that he has a brain tumour.’ Nessie was finding her very easy to talk to but there was no time for any more chat, for Andre arrived then with a porter loaded down with luggage. The woman had come for a week but Nessie was sure that she had brought clothes for at least a month if the number of boxes and trunks were anything to go by. Once everything was loaded they set off for home and Nessie observed her mother-in-law from the corner of her eye as the woman chatted away to her son in French. She could only assume that Andre took after his father, for apart from the colour of his eyes he looked nothing like his mother.
The woman suddenly seemed to remember herself and turning to Nessie she apologised, ‘I am so sorry! I forget my manners. I must speak in English while I am here.’
‘It’s quite all right,’ Nessie assured her, smiling warmly. But even so, she continued the journey chatting happily in English to her son as Nessie listened.
When they arrived outside the funeral parlour, Andre’s mother looked at the building approvingly. ‘I detect a woman’s touch,’ she said as she stared at the velvet drapes in the window and the freshly cut holly in the vase.
Nessie smiled modestly and, leaving Andre to lift down his mother’s luggage from the carriage, the two women went inside. ‘My dear, I should have said that while I am here you must call me Jewel, it is my name and you may not feel comfortable enough to call me Maman just yet.’
What a curious but beautiful name, Nessie thought, as she showed Jewel to the room she had prepared for her.
She soon found that her mother-in-law was remarkably easy to get along with and she took to Joseph instantly, billing and cooing over him at every opportunity, although when she first met him her eyes filled with tears of sympathy.
‘Ah, he is destined to be an angel child,’ she said gravely. ‘He will not stay long on this earth.’ Then she explained, ‘I am of gypsy origin and I have the gift. Did Andre not tell you?’
Surprised, Nessie shook her head.
‘Yes.’ The woman gave a trill of laughter. ‘My Pierre’s parents were not at all impressed when they met me. I was very young, as you are, and my husband-to-be was much older. They thought I was far beneath him but we have had many happy years together. Our only regret was that we were not able to have more children. There was only Andre which was why his father was so upset when we discovered that he was …’ Her voice trailed away and her face became serious as she asked, ‘You knew about Jean-Paul, yes?’
Nessie nodded uncomfortably.
‘Ah, his papa knew then that he would never present us with grandchildren.’
Nessie blushed, but this woman was no fool and, her voice soft, she said, ‘And there is still no chance of that, is there?’
When Nessie dropped her eyes, she shrugged. ‘Ah well, at least you have given him the cloak of respectability and he does seem to care for you most sincerely. As much as he can care for a member of our gender, that is. Am I right?’
Nessie wondered if she should lie but Jewel seemed so perceptive that she sensed she would know. She had the feeling that she could see right into her soul.
‘He says he does. And I … I do care for him.’
‘Of course you do. That is plain to see … but your heart and soul belongs to another. Am I right?’ She patted her hand then. ‘Do not bother to reply. But rest assured, one day your dreams will come true and you will find happiness.’
