Page 9 of Sunday's Child

‘It might make it difficult for you to fit in with the other girls, Nancy. They will have come straight from the schoolroom.’

‘But what sense is there in paying a lot of money simply to teach me deportment?’

‘It’s more than that. I want you to feel confident in yourself.’

‘Are you trying to marry me off to some rich lord, Rosie? I don’t want that.’

‘No, of course not, but you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in Rockwood, surely? If you make friends with other girls your age you will get invitations to house parties and you will meet eligible young men. I want you to marry for love, not money or position.’

‘Maybe I want something different for myself.’ Nancy bent down to pick up a particularly pretty shell.

Rosalind put her head on one side. ‘Such as?’

‘I don’t know, Rosie. But Hester has always told me that I might have to earn my own living. I wish I could sing like Patsy, but I do know how to keep household accounts and I could cook a meal if I needed to.’

‘Don’t even think like that, Nancy. You will never have to earn your own living if I have any say in the matter. You are like a sister to me and Patsy. We will always love you and take care of you.’

Nancy dashed tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I know you mean that, and I don’t wish to sound ungrateful, but I really would like to know where I came from.’

‘I understand, of course, but you are a special person, Nancy. Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently, and I want you to have every opportunity in life.’

‘I do know that, Rosie.’

‘Then go to Miss Maughfling’s Academy and take advantage of her expert knowledge of etiquette and deportment. It’s only a short course and then you can come home for Christmas.’

‘All right, if it means so much to you, I will.’

‘Good, and now we’d better catch up with Dolly and Rory. The tide will be on the turn soon, so I don’t want them to go too far.’

They walked on, stopping every now and again for Phoebe to pick up a shell or a pretty stone, which she solemnly stowed away in a canvas bag that Rosalind had brought with her. Dolly and Rory ran about, laughing as they dodged the waves washing on the shore. It was a carefree, happy scene that Nancy knew she would treasure during her lonely days in London. She was beginning to wish that she had refused to take up the offer when it was first suggested. Suddenly home and family, not to mention a certain handsome house guest, were more of a priority than acquiring the polish required to shine in society.

That evening, the family assembled in the drawing room, having enjoyed a splendid dinner. Gervase entertained them all with stories of his exploits in London and the various house parties he had enjoyed with his raffish friends. Nancy could see that Patricia was unimpressed and Hester was scowling ominously, but Tommy was obviously in awe of his former teacher’s ability to hold an audience’s attention. Walter, Bertie’s younger brother, and his wife, Louise, sat together, their expressions guarded, while Bertie sipped a brandy, apparently enjoying the monologue. He waited until Gervase finished speaking.

‘You’ve had some interesting experiences, Mr North. I can see why you gave up teaching.’

Wolfe made a low growling noise deep in his throat, as if voicing his disapproval.

Alexander laughed and slipped his arm round his wife’s shoulders. ‘You’ve had a colourful life, Gervase.’

‘You have indeed,’ Rosalind added, smiling. ‘But we know nothing about you. Where did your family come from?’

Gervase stood with his back to the empty grate, brandy glass clutched in his right hand.

‘My mother was Elizabeth Greystone.’

There was a stunned silence, broken by a sharp intake of breath from Hester.

‘Are you telling us that your mother was Elizabeth Greystone of Greystone Park?’ Patricia eyed him suspiciously. ‘Greystone never spoke about his sister, although I know she died young.’

‘Precisely that. Sir Michael was my uncle, although he did precious little to support my mother after she was widowed.’

‘I thought she went back to live with her husband’s family in Suffolk,’ Rosalind said slowly. ‘I believe they were quite wealthy.’

‘That is all history now, as is the fate that befell Uncle Oliver.’

‘He died suddenly.’ Rosalind turned to Hester. ‘You must know the full story.’

Hester shook her head. ‘It was a scandal that shook the whole country.’