Miss Shaw and the Doctor Read online

  Beth ran over and tugged at her hand. “Miss Shaw, lessons don’t start until nine o’clock.”

  “No, my dear, my lessons start at half an hour earlier. Goodnight, girls, I have had an interesting day.”

  She was scarcely inside her sitting room when a footman appeared with a message demanding that she come down at once to speak to Sir John in the drawing room. She had been expecting the summons; after all she had yet to meet her new employer. No doubt she would have to wait to meet the lady of the house until after her confinement was over.

  She followed the liveried servant downstairs where he stopped outside a double door, which he politely opened.

  Only as she dipped in a low curtsy did she remember she had not done anything to repair her appearance. She was covered in cobwebs, there was a wet patch on her skirt from Isobel’s accident, and she could feel her neatly arranged chignon unravelling at the back of her neck. No doubt the livid bruise was visible also.

  Chapter Three

  Slowly Sarah raised her gaze to find a tall, spare gentleman in his forties staring at her, his eyebrows raised in puzzlement. “Miss Shaw, I do apologise for calling you down so abruptly. Would it be more convenient to speak to me tomorrow?”

  Sarah smiled ruefully. “I fear the damage is already done, Sir John. I have been playing in the attic with the girls. I beg your pardon for not attending to matters before I came down. I can assure you, sir, that I am normally neat as a pin.”

  “I intended to ask you to sit down, but perhaps, in the circumstances you will excuse me if I do not extend that courtesy. Now, Miss Shaw, I’m sure you have heard I have my son. What you will not have heard, and I do not wish the girls to know, is that their mama is not at all well. She has a weak heart. We were advised against attempting to have an heir, but we are both glad we did so.”

  “I congratulate you on the arrival of your much longed for son. I shall keep the girls occupied so they do not notice they are not allowed to visit. Please convey my sympathies and best wishes to Lady Fenwick.”

  “I shall do that, Miss Shaw. However, my wife is most insistent that you come and see her tomorrow. She is an overindulgent mother, much prefers to have the children with her all day and not in the care of a governess. No doubt you have been told that you are the third such person to be employed in this establishment this year.” He frowned and extracted his fob watch. For a sober man, he had a remarkably flamboyant waistcoat. It contrasted strangely with his dark tailcoat, white shirt and neatly tied cravat.

  He glanced up and caught her staring. The blood rushed to her cheeks. Instead of being offended at her temerity, he smiled. It made him look far less austere. “I know, Miss Shaw, it is a hideous garment. However, Lady Fenwick made it with her own fair hands, and I would not wear anything else.”

  What a delightful gentleman he was. He obviously adored his wife and children. The house was a happy one. She was determined to remain here, no matter what scrapes Isobel led her into. “Sir John, when would her ladyship like to see me? I intend to start lessons half an hour earlier. This means we can eat luncheon at midday and have the afternoon for fresh air and exercise.”

  His smile vanished, and he stared at her through narrowed eyes. “Miss Shaw, how did you come by that bruise on your forehead?”

  She swallowed nervously. “An accident with some books. I can assure you, Sir John, it looks far worse than it is.”

  “If you are sure there is nothing I should know, then I shall not detain you. You have had a long day.”

  Sarah curtsied politely and turned to go. He called as she was at the door.

  “I quite forgot, you have not told me why you were not waiting at the crossroads at the appointed time. Lady Fenwick will wish to know.” When she had explained he nodded sympathetically. “Most unfortunate. Let us hope that your next few days are less eventful for all our sakes. Come to Lady Fenwick’s apartment at ten-thirty. I shall send a footman to fetch you.”

  The girls arrived in the schoolroom on time the next morning. Even Isobel seemed inclined to co-operate. Sarah had been in the schoolroom since seven o’clock preparing individual work programmes. Even the twins required separate tasks, as Isobel was far more advanced academically than her quieter sister.

  Sarah had dressed with particular attention to her appearance that morning, arranging her hair so that several curls fell over the livid bruise. She was almost sure it would be unnoticed by Lady Fenwick. “Now, girls, Nancy shall sit with you whilst you have your snack. I’m certain your mama will love the card you have made for her.”

  She held up the item for them to admire. Their little brother was to be named John, after their father. His name had been drawn onto a rectangle of card and each child had added their own illustrations. Isobel and Lorna had been given the task of painting in the letters. On the reverse, they had all signed their names.

  “It’s so pretty, Miss Shaw. I think Mama will love it.”

  “She will, Lorna. I shall tell her how hard you are working and how pleased I am to find such industrious pupils. There, I hear the tray next door. You may be excused. Lessons will resume when I return.”

  Isobel hung back, letting her sisters run ahead into the nursery. “Miss Shaw, I want to see my mama. Take me with you.”

  “I’m sorry, my dear, not today. As soon as she is rested, you will all be asked to come down and meet the new arrival.”

  The child scowled. For a moment Sarah thought she would refuse to accept this information. “I am the oldest, Miss Shaw. Mama loves me best. She will want to see me even if the others don’t go.” Her blonde ringlets bounced on her shoulders as she ran to join her sisters. Sarah sighed. It seemed as if the temporary truce was over.

  Sarah left the girls busy and hurried down to the lower floor where Lady Fenwick was waiting to meet her. She knocked and was ushered in by a smiling maid.

  Lady Fenwick was much younger than her husband, a pretty, older version of her daughters. There was a worrying blueness about her lips; Sarah prayed this pregnancy had not proved too much.

  “Welcome, Miss Shaw. How are my girls?” Lady Fenwick greeted her with a tired smile. “I do so wish to see Isobel. She will be fretting if she is kept away from me for long.”

  Sarah dipped politely and moved closer to the enormous tester bed. There was no sign of the cradle. The baby was obviously being cared for in the nursery. “All your daughters are well. They have sent you a small gift.” She passed over the card waiting for the exclamations of joy.

  “Ah, so pretty. You will thank them for me, won’t you, Miss Shaw?”

  Lady Fenwick’s eyes drooped—time to go. Quietly Sarah moved towards the door; as she was opening it, her employer spoke again. “You must think me an unnatural parent, to be talking only of Isobel. But she was so tiny when she was born. We feared she would not survive. I carried her around in my bosom, fed her from a teaspoon every few minutes. Against all the odds my little girl thrived, but she is not quite the same as the others.” Sarah held her breath. She knew what was coming next. “I’m sure an intelligent young woman like yourself will already have noticed she can be a trifle…a little…unbalanced sometimes.”

  Sarah ran back to the bed and impulsively clasped Lady Fenwick’s cold hands. “My lady, I understand exactly. Now that I know, I shall make every effort to help Isobel.”

  “Thank you, my dear. I do so hope I can rely on your discretion if any unfortunate incidents do occur. My husband does not fully understand the problem. I dare not explain it, in case he thinks my darling Isobel should be sent away, that she is not safe to stay at home.”

  “I give you my word, Lady Fenwick. Sir John will hear nothing untoward from my lips. Please don’t distress yourself. Rest now; I will not disturb you further. When you are better, I shall send Isobel to you first, and then the others.”

  “Thank you, Miss Shaw, that is a great relief to me.”

  Sarah bobbed and retreated to the wide passageway which led to the nursery stairs.r />
  When she reached the nursery floor, she found an unexpected visitor. “Good morning, Dr. Moorcroft. I did not think to see you again so soon.”

  This time he bowed slightly. As he raised his head, she could not help but observe that one of his eyes was green and the other brown. Her expression must have shown her surprise.

  “I know, most unusual isn’t it? All the males in my family are so afflicted. Fortunately it does not affect our vision. Now, Miss Shaw, I should like to talk to you.” He gestured towards the padded window seat at the far end of the spacious corridor. “Shall we sit there?”

  He waited until she was settled before joining her at the far end, leaving a suitable distance between them.

  “I have just been to see Lady Fenwick,” Sarah told him. “She does not look well. She also told me about Isobel’s problems and the cause of them. It explains why she is so different from the other three—”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Shaw, to interrupt you, but things are not as you have been told. Lady Fenwick wishes to believe that Isobel’s unkind behaviour is because of something that happened in her infancy. I have made extensive enquiries from Nanny. Isobel was a perfectly sweet child, no different from her twin when she was small.”

  Shocked by his bluntness Sarah shook her head. “Then I don’t understand. Why is she the way she is today? Did she suffer a head injury of some sort? I have heard that this can change a person’s character.”

  “Indeed it can. However, in this case it is merely overindulgence that has encouraged the child to use her intelligence to manipulate those around her. The previous two governesses were driven away not only by Isobel’s spitefulness, but by the fact that her mother always takes her side. Lady Fenwick cannot accept the fact it is her fault her daughter has turned out so badly.”

  Enough was enough. Sarah surged to her feet and stared down at him with dislike. “I cannot believe I am hearing such balderdash from a man of medicine. Good heavens, sir, Isobel is only nine years old. How can you say she has ‘turned out badly’? Being spoilt is not an incurable illness. With gentle discipline and guidance she will learn to curb her rashness and consider the outcome before embarking on a reckless or unkind act.”

  By the end of her tirade he was on his feet as well, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. “Well, Miss Shaw, you have certainly put me firmly in my place. I’m not sure I believe you. Did you not know that the Franciscan monks have stated if they have a child until he is seven years of age, he will be their acolyte for life?”

  “No, I had not heard that. However, they are talking of something entirely different. They are talking of beliefs, not behaviour, are they not? Now, if you will excuse me, sir, I must return to the schoolroom.”

  She nodded frostily. She was not sure she could like a gentleman who was prepared to dismiss a child as incurably damaged, when all she needed was love and guidance to restore her natural goodness.

  During the next two days, Sarah paid particular attention to Isobel, correcting the child whenever she showed signs of recalcitrance and then offering her a choice of activities. Isobel found it harder to refuse outright to do as she was bid. Sarah was pleased with Isobel’s progress, so when the child made a suggestion, she was prepared to listen to it.

  “Miss Shaw, there is to be a fair on the green tomorrow to celebrate midsummer’s day. There are horse and pony races, stilt walkers, fire eaters and lots of other things. We have never been. Mama does not like such events. Do you think you could take us?”

  “I shall send a note to Lady Fenwick. If she has no objection then I should be delighted to take you. I did not intend for you to do lessons on Saturday afternoons; I was going to suggest we take a picnic to the lake, but going to the fair sounds far more exciting.”

  When she saw the child’s triumphant smile, she had serious doubts about her consent. Maybe it would be better to not send the note, pretending to the children their mother had refused her permission. This would be deceitful, against everything she held to be important. She must write the letter and abide by whatever answer she received. Until she heard from Lady Fenwick she would occupy the girls in other pursuits.

  Every morning whilst Isobel was away on her pony, Sarah took the other three for rambles in the woods. The bluebells were over, but the grass was carpeted with other delightful specimens they could pick and take back to the schoolroom to identify.

  When she returned to her rooms on the third day, her maid was waiting to greet her. “Miss Shaw, did you hear her ladyship is making an good recovery?”

  “That is excellent news, Betty. I understand that the doctor makes regular visits.”

  “He does, miss; he comes twice a day. Nothing’s too much trouble for Dr. Shaw.”

  “Hopefully the girls will be able to go down and meet their new brother and see Lady Fenwick before the week is over.” Sarah wasn’t sure if she was glad or disappointed she had not spoken to the doctor herself.

  Despite her every effort, she found herself thinking about him far more often than was proper. There was something about him, not just his remarkable appearance, that intrigued her. Why was he not married with small children of his own? Her lips curved. She was forced to admit she was pleased he was a single gentleman.

  The response from Lady Fenwick about the proposed jaunt to the village fair was an enthusiastic agreement. With some reluctance, Sarah relayed the information to the two nursery maids. “Tomorrow, girls, we shall be going to Bentley to see the fair. Have either of you been before and can tell me what to expect?”

  Nancy clapped in excitement. “Are we to go with you, miss? I’ve not been since I’ve been working here. It’s an annual event. The children will love it.”

  “Is a fair quite safe?” Sarah asked. “I’ve never been to such a thing myself, had always thought undesirables would mingle with the crowd and steal one’s belongings.”

  “Never you mind, Miss Shaw. Nancy and I will take good care of you. If you ask for Bill and Tommy to come with us, no one will take liberties with your purse, not with them around.”

  “Are Tommy and Bill grooms, or indoor servants? Have I met them, do you think?”

  The girls exchanged knowing glances and Jo explained, “Bill’s under coachman here. We’re walking out. Tommy’s a groom. He’s Nancy’s young man. The mistress is quite happy for us to be courting. We shall be wed when a cottage comes vacant on the estate.”

  “In that case, I shall certainly ask for them to come. Lady Fenwick has sent a purse full of coins for the girls to spend. We are to take the barouche. Will there be room for us all inside such a vehicle?”

  “The little ones can sit on our laps; Miss Isobel and Miss Lorna can sit with you. It’ll be a bit of a squeeze, miss, but it isn’t far to the village green.”

  The enthusiasm of the two nursery maids reassured Sarah that the excursion would be one they could all enjoy, and so she went to give the children the good news. The screams of delight when she informed them they would be going the next day added to her own excitement. “You must give me your word you will not wander off on your own. Beth and Lottie, you will hold hands with Nancy and Jo at all times, is that clear?”

  The girls bobbed up and down, nodding vigorously. “We promise, don’t we, Beth?” Charlotte said nudging her little sister. Beth giggled and took her thumb from her mouth long enough to agree.

  Sarah turned to the older two. “Isobel, Lorna, you will remain with me. I do not require you to hold my hand. You are old enough to be trusted to do what you’re told. Do I have your promise?”

  Lorna beamed. “I promise, Miss Shaw. I shall be too scared to go anywhere on my own. I don’t much like crowds. I can’t catch my breath when I’m squashed in.”

  Isobel elbowed her sister scornfully. “You’re a baby. I like fairs, especially the little booths and caravans which sell trinkets.”

  Sarah felt a moment’s disquiet. “I wasn’t aware you had ever attended such an event, Isobel?”

  “I saw what’s ther
e from the carriage when we passed last year. I was with Mama. We had been on a morning call; none of you came with us.”

  “Seeing a fair from a carriage is not the same as attending, Isobel. We shall all enjoy our first visit together. Now I wish you to finish your work.”

  Eventually lessons were abandoned for the morning. Her charges were far too restless to settle. Instead she took them to the impressive library, which ran the length of the house on the first floor. They were given the task of finding pictures of the wildflowers they had collected the previous day. This occupied them until time to return to the nursery floor for luncheon. The afternoon passed enjoyably with a lively game of cricket in the garden.

  The following afternoon the smart black and gold barouche waited outside, with two uniformed servants ready to escort them. She saw at once why Nancy had said they would be free from molestation: both men were stoutly built and more than able to keep the girls safe. Having the responsibility for her charges on an excursion of this sort worried Sarah. She prayed Isobel would keep her word and not do anything outrageous.

  The weather was glorious, not a cloud in the sky, so they would all need the protection of their straw bonnets this afternoon. She smoothed down a fold of her best gown, made of leaf green Indian cotton, with a most unusual pattern of small birds and flowers woven into it. She had made a ribbon to go around her bonnet from the scraps. In this ensemble, she felt more like a lady than a servant.

  The carriage bowled through the village, which looked prosperous and well cared for. There were carts and carriages in the High Street, a handsome market place and a haberdasher’s, a milliner’s, a general store, and one or two smaller establishments, which could be selling anything from ironmongery to secondhand clothes. There was also a fine coaching inn, where she was certain she could send her letters.