William looked at her gravely. ‘Whatever it is, I hope I can help.’
Lowering her voice, Selina explained about Nancy and her unfortunate situation. William’s eyes widened, but he said nothing, merely listened in silence until she’d finished.
‘I wondered if you had any advice for me,’ she added,searching his face hopefully. ‘I’ve told Miss Furniss she can stay for now. But it can’t be long until her condition becomes obvious, and I’m worried what people may say. Not worried for myself,’ she added hurriedly, in case he misunderstood her concern, ‘but for the children. I don’t want them to hear any nasty gossip about their nanny. Though if she stays until after the birth, I’ll have to explain her pregnancy to them … Peter might understand, but the girls?’
‘Well, quite,’ he agreed sombrely.
Selina bit her lip, wishing she could read his expression. ‘Do … Do you think I should have told Nancy to leave?’ she asked falteringly. ‘She did come to the hall under false pretences, and now she’s put us in the most dreadful fix. Only I didn’t feel I had a choice. She’s not been well, poor girl, and she has nowhere else to go, and with all this snow …’
He was shaking his head. ‘No, of course she must stay. You did the right thing.’
‘Oh, thank goodness.’ Selina sagged with relief. She would have hated to argue with him if he’d told her to send Nancy away. ‘So what now?’
‘I’m not sure. But at least nobody else knows yet. For now, I suggest you do nothing.’
She felt soothed by this common-sense advice, and agreed heartily, but her good mood didn’t last. Waiting for Peter beside the car after lunch, chatting to William, she turned at the sound of her name and saw her nearest neighbours on the moors, Helen and Cameron Bourne, crossing the road towards them. The Bournes, brother and sister, were dressed alike, both wrapped up against the cold in funereal black.
Selina stiffened. She hadn’t forgiven Cameron for trying to worm his way into her affections after Bella’s death, perhaps thinking he could influence Peter’s financial decisions if he became the boy’s uncle. And she disliked his sister too since discovering Helen and Peter’s father had once had a fling behind Bella’s back. Both siblings had proved themselves untrustworthy, even treacherous, and she shuddered as they approached. But since they were well known and respected in Bodmin, she kept a polite smile on her face.
‘Hello,’ she said coolly as they all shook hands. ‘The snow’s been bad on the moors, hasn’t it? How have you been coping?’
‘Oh, we’re used to the snow. I suppose you must find it difficult as a newcomer.’ With a dismissive smile, Helen glanced with sly interest at William. ‘You two been lunching together? How cosy.’
‘We meet regularly to discuss estate business,’ William told her brusquely, and it was clear he had little time for the Bournes either.
‘And there’s plenty to discuss, I hear,’ Cameron said, looking away as he adjusted his gloves. ‘Ah, there’s Peter …’ Her nephew, who’d just emerged from a bookshop along the street, waved cheerfully. ‘We heard about his expulsion, of course.’ Cameron lowered his voice. ‘The lad needs a firm hand. Something I daresay he hasn’t had since his father died.’
Selina’s lips tightened. ‘We must go, I’m afraid. The girls will be waiting—’
‘But don’t they have a nanny now?’ Helen interrupted sweetly, her eyes alight with malice. ‘A cousin of theirs, Ibelieve? And rather, erm, tubby.’ She laughed behind her hand. ‘Or she will be soon, from what I hear.’
Selina felt abruptly sick, her chest tight, and did not know what to say. She barely registered William saying goodbye to the Bournes and then helping her into the passenger seat, saying, ‘Let me drive you home. You really shouldn’t have come out in this snowy weather, not as a new driver.’ Looking surprised, Peter bounded into the back seat, and William set off back to Thornton Hall. ‘I’ll have a word with Peter another day,’ he muttered, glancing at her sideways. ‘You look done in. It’s the weather, I expect.’
She agreed, her whole body cold and icy. But they both knew it wasn’t the weather that had left her standing numb and speechless in the street back there.
Selina had no idea who had spoken out of turn. The maid, perhaps, or a visiting tradesman could have noticed Nancy’s growing waistline and drawn his own conclusions. They might never find out. But if the Bournes knew about the pregnancy, then it was likely the whole town did too. Helen and Cameron Bourne, eager for this opportunity to get back at her, would have made sure of that.
Nancy would soon find every face set against her in this Cornish backwater where unmarried mothers were still shocking and unacceptable. And the girls and Peter would suffer for it too as their family became the source of cruel local gossip.
Whatever was she going to do?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sheila was pink-cheeked with triumph as the last of the villagers trooped out of the parish hall after her soup-and-sandwiches social. She had shaken so many hands, and patted children’s heads, and listened to folk and their unhappy stories of need and neglect since the end of the war, that she felt quite dizzy. But the event had been a roaring success, and she and Mrs Treedy now had a list of likely candidates for the parish fund, all of them equally in need of financial help.
She mentally thanked Mrs Newbury-Holmes for her useful suggestion of a social event like this. It had indeed been just the thing to bring their small community together.
‘Have a wonderful Christmas!’ she called after the last couple and their gaggle of children, all looking happy and full after their hot soup and plate of sandwiches.
Sheila turned back to Mrs Treedy, who’d helped her organise the event, only to find her talking to Hazel Cotterill. Her baby boy nestled comfortably on her hip, Hazel was holding young Lily by the hand – the child she’d named after Sheila’s own granddaughter, who’d delivered the babysingle-handed after Hazel had gone into labour prematurely during an air raid.
‘Oh, Hazel,’ she said, her voice hoarse after all the chatting she’d done over lunch. ‘Thanks for helping us out today. It was very kind of you.’ Hazel had been slaving away behind the scenes, keeping the soup hot and making extra sandwiches to order. ‘I didn’t think you’d have time, what with Dickie and Lily to care for. You must be run off your feet.’
‘I’ve always got time for a charitable cause,’ Hazel insisted, ‘and I was happy to do it.’ She was wearing her glossy brown hair longer than in the summer, when she’d still been expecting, and looked curvier than ever and contented with it.
‘How’s Charlie? Still working as an apprentice?’
‘He’s well, thank you, and yes, he’s in his final year. I wanted him to come home for Christmas.’ Hazel’s face fell. ‘But he says it’s too difficult, what with the cold weather and money being so tight. So we won’t be seeing him until spring now, most likely.’
