Page 19 of A Winter’s Romance

A fter they finished their tea and cakes, Nicholas stood up and declared that further exploration of Bath was required. He’d march for miles if it meant spending more time with Miss Mortimer. Happily, his two companions agreed.

Even though it was winter, not a cloud marred the vivid blue sky, and the brisk pace he set ensured that they did not feel the cold. They went past the abbey to Pulteney Bridge, where they paused for a while to allow an excited Meg to marvel at the weir below, then they strolled down Great Pulteney Street and reached the entrance to Sydney Gardens.

Nicholas checked his pocket watch and frowned. ‘It is getting rather late, so we do not have time for the gardens today. Perhaps we can visit them tomorrow, if you’d like that.’

‘Yes, please.’ There was no doubt about Meg’s feelings on the matter.

Nicholas cocked his head and sent Miss Mortimer a crooked smile. ‘And you?’

A look of concern crossed Miss Mortimer’s face. ‘Although Meg would love another excursion with you, I’m afraid that I must decline.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘I have classes to teach.’

Drat! This was not in his plan. Masking his disappointment, Nicholas replied, ‘What a pity. I will miss your company.’

They retraced their steps and headed back to the York Hotel. Nicholas had arranged for dinner to be served in one of the private parlours. It was another chance to convince Miss Mortimer of his desire for her happiness.

The smell of the delicious dishes brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Little Meg’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the food laid out on the table.

‘Look, Miss, isn’t it wonderful? A whole chicken, a ham, and a salmon. Ooh and puddings too!’

Nicholas chuckled. ‘What? Don’t you enjoy this sort of fare every day at the Academy? Miss Pugh told me that no expense was spared when it came to meals for her pupils.’

Miss Mortimer gave an audible sniff. ‘Miss Pugh believes that too much food dulls a girl’s mind.’

Nicholas didn’t think his dislike of Miss Pugh could grow any more, but he was mistaken. What a penny-pinching woman.

Nicholas enjoyed the meal, not because of the food, which was excellent, but on account of the company. Meg kept him amused with her stories about her friends at school, while Miss Mortimer’s interest in his life on the Peninsula and India made him think that perhaps his time there had not been wasted.

All too soon it was time for them to depart. Penrose brought in their outdoor clothes.

As Nicholas waited for Meg to put on her bonnet and pelisse for the walk back to the Academy, he drew Miss Mortimer to one side. Her fresh lavender smell reminded him of an English garden.

‘I have a proposition for you,’ he said in an undertone.

To his alarm, her gentle expression turned frosty and he saw her body stiffen.

He inwardly cursed himself for using the wrong words.

‘Let me explain,’ he added hastily. ‘I wonder if you would accept the position of governess to my ward. I can see that she has the utmost regard for you, and if I’m any judge, I think that feeling is mutual.’ This was one way to get to know her better. Best not to frighten her off with talk of marriage. Not yet, anyway.

To his relief, her face softened, but there was a troubling hint of anxiety in her eyes.

‘I’m honoured, Colonel, indeed I am, but I’m afraid that I must refuse your kind offer.’

A shaft of ice pierced Nicholas’ chest. ‘Why, may I ask?’ His words came out croaky, his throat dry with disappointment.

‘I have other pupils who require my tuition here in Bath, and I couldn’t leave just like that. It would not be fair.’

Numb with shock he nodded. ‘Very well. I’ll escort you back. It’s getting rather late and I must apologise to Miss Pugh for delaying you.’

Jane lay in bed looking sightlessly at the blackness of the night through the skylight window above her bed.

What had she done? Burned her bridges. After Colonel Anstruther had departed, she had been summoned to Miss Pugh’s office and been given her notice.

‘You have until the end of this term and then I want you gone.’ Miss Pugh’s tone was venomous. ‘You should have convinced him to leave the girl here, but you didn’t. You have only yourself to blame for your situation.’

Jane’s mind was in a haze as she left the office. Could she find a new situation in the few weeks left before term finished? It was unlikely, but she’d try. There must be other schools who required a teacher with her skills.

Now in the middle of the night her situation seemed even worse. Why had she turned him down?

Deep inside she knew the answer. How could she live in the same household with the man who had stolen her heart?

The colonel had told her that he was planning marriage and it would be unbearable to see him happy with someone else. Of course, she wanted him to find happiness, but it would be better for her not to witness it. It was difficult enough to hide her feelings; it would tear her apart to see him every day and keep them secret.

Jane rolled over and thumped her pillow. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. It was nearly Christmas and soon she would be homeless. And the only man who’d ever made her feel wonderful would be leaving her life forever. She rubbed her eyes. They’d be red in the morning for everyone to see, but it didn’t matter. She’d be leaving soon.

The next morning Jane rose early, even before the maid’s awakening knock rattled on her door. She washed and dressed in a trance and made her way to the attic dormitory. There were only two little girls there now. After the usual grumbles, she shepherded them down to the breakfast parlour.

A few minutes later, Meg bounced in.

Jane looked up from her seat and smiled at the little girl. At least some good had come of the colonel’s visit. She patted the chair beside her. ‘Come and sit next to me, Meg. Soon you will be going to your new home. Isn’t that wonderful?’

Meg’s face turned solemn. ‘I know I will be happy with the colonel. He has told me to call him Uncle Nicholas, by the way.’ The little girl bit her lip. ‘But … I’ll miss you. If only you could come with me, Miss Mortimer.’

Jane swallowed. ‘I’m sure your new governess will be nice. The colonel, your Uncle Nicholas, will make sure of that.’

Jane picked up her coffee cup with a trembling hand. Nicholas. His name was Nicholas. How apt. He was rather like a Saint Nicholas, coming in and rescuing little Meg just before Christmas. If only someone would come and rescue her.

Nicholas woke up with a headache. He only had himself to blame. After he’d returned from escorting Meg and Miss Mortimer back to the Academy, he’d ordered a bottle of port. But it was never a good idea to drink alone. It only took two glasses before he gave up and retired to bed.

Alas, sleep wouldn’t come. The noises of carriages and carts going by on the road below his window carried into his room. It was odd, because out in Portugal he’d slept in the open air through thunderstorms and the noise of distant cannon.

No, it was Miss Mortimer who had kept him awake. Every time he closed his eye he’d seen the image of her smiling face.

How had he got it all wrong? He’d offered her the position of governess to his ward, convinced that she would accept. The child obviously loved her teacher. And from what he’d gleaned, that feeling was reciprocated, with Miss Mortimer protecting Meg from the worst of Miss Pugh’s rules .

But she had turned him down.

It would have been a subtle way to get to know each other better. Now he would never know if she had any feelings for him.

He called for Penrose, who hurried in. ‘I’ve got your hot water ready, sir.’

‘Thank you. Yes, I’m ready for my shave.’

Putting on his banyan, Nicholas sat listless on the chair near the dressing table and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His good eye was bloodshot, his hair disordered, and there was dark beard growth across the lower part of his face. He’d never been a vain man, but this morning, the sight of his face disgusted him.

‘Is everything all right, sir? You seem a little…’ Penrose lathered the brush and started to apply it to his master’s face.

‘Never mind me, Penrose. Just a bit blue-devilled today.’

‘Why is that, sir, if you don’t mind me asking? I saw you last evening with your ward – a nice young girl – and the lovely lady. Her teacher, wasn’t she? Wish I had someone who looked at me like that.’

Nicholas jerked upright, his gaze sharp on his valet. ‘What did you say?’

Penrose, a sheepish expression on his face, took a quick step back. Fortunately, he had not started with the razor. ‘Don’t mind me, sir. Talking out of turn.’

Nicholas softened his tone, but not by much. Army habits were hard to break. ‘Nonsense. Repeat what you just said. That is an order.’

Penrose’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. ‘I was saying that the teacher was looking at you all dreamy-like. Like you were her hero. ’

‘Are you sure?’ Nicholas barked.

‘Yes, sir. Though you probably didn’t notice. I think you were listening to the little girl chatter on. It was when I brought their outdoor things in, sir. Definitely, sir, I’d say she likes you.’

Nicholas drummed his fingers on the arms of the chair.

‘Better get a move on with my shave, Penrose. I’m going out.’

‘What about breakfast, sir?’

‘Breakfast? There’s more important things than breakfast.’