The Paper Marriage. Bronwyn Williams

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СКАЧАТЬ her hat atop her freshly hennaed hair with a lethal-looking hatpin. “Shame about the house, but I’ve been telling Gussy for years that this was too much house for one lone woman. Don’t be possessed by your possessions, I always say.”

      Which was all very well, Rose thought, as long as one possessed a roof over one’s head. A bed in hand was worth two in the bush.

      Giddy, that’s what you are. Good thing your feet are as long as they are, my girl, because you’re going to have to stand on them from now on. “Grand-mother’s housekeeper gave me the name of a reliable agency where I might look for work.”

      “What kind of work can you do?” Bess didn’t believe in mincing words. As a woman who supported herself with words, she valued them too highly. “Can you take shorthand? Can you cook? Not that I’d recommend it, but better to lord it over a kitchen than to have to wait on every oaf with the price of a meal.”

      Rose had never even considered serving as a waitress, but it might well come to that. “I’ve never tried it, but I’m sure I could learn. I’m good with invalids, too.”

      “You want to be a doormat all your life? I haven’t known you long, child, because I’ve been away so much these past few years, but we both know Gussy was no invalid. What she was, poor soul, was crazy as a bedbug, not to put too fine a point on it. Now, don’t tell me you want to go to work in one of those asylums, you wouldn’t last out a day.”

      Rose knew the woman meant well. And after all, she was one of those rare creatures, a truly independent woman. “All right, then what do you suggest? Governess? Companion? Surely I could qualify for either of those positions.”

      “I thought about hiring you as a secretary-companion.”

      Rose waited for the catch. She was certain there would be one.

      “Trouble is, I couldn’t afford to pay you enough to live on. My publisher pays my expenses when I’m traveling, but I doubt if he’d pay for a secretary.”

      On her good days, her grandmother used to talk about her friend, Bess Powers, who was considered a minor celebrity after the diaries she had written while growing up aboard her father’s ship had been published. Rose envied Miss Powers her freedom and independence but, celebrity or not, she wasn’t at all sure she could abide the woman for any length of time.

      “I’m afraid I don’t take shorthand. I’m sure I could learn, though, and my penmanship is excellent.”

      “’T’wouldn’t work. I’ve traveled in single harness too long. As it happens, though, I have another problem on my hands. You might be just the one to tackle it. I don’t suppose you’ve got a drop of brandy in the house, do you? This miserable weather goes right to my knees.”

      “I’m sorry. Knowing I’d be leaving today, I let the servants take home all the food and drink, but I’m sure there’s some tea left in the caddy.”

      “Never mind. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Matt. My nephew. Poor boy, he was desperate enough to write to me for help, which means he’s at his wit’s end. Last time I saw him he called me a meddling old busybody.” She chuckled. “I’ll not deny it, either.”

      Rose murmured a polite disclaimer. She scarcely knew the woman, after all, but if she had indeed spent her formative years at sea in a man’s world, as she claimed to have done, then it was no wonder she tended to be outspoken.

      Rose appreciated plain speaking. It saved time in the long run, even if the truth did happen to tread on a few tender toes.

      “Well anyhow, as I told Horace, you’re a tad on the scrawny side, but then Gussy was always frail, too. Still, it takes a strong woman to look after a child.”

      “A child?” Rose repeated, frowning. Perhaps she was more like her grandmother than she’d thought, for she was having trouble following the conversation. “I’m sorry—did I miss something?”

      “Child, baby, I’m not sure of her age, but I do know I’m too old to tackle the job, even if I had the time. Still, I expect you’re stronger than you look, else you’d never have been able to put up with Gussy. I know, I know, she was my dearest friend, even though we didn’t see much of one another once I started traveling professionally, so to speak. But Gussy was always a bit light under the bonnet, if you take my meaning. Old age struck me in the knees. It struck Gussy’s head. I guess it hits us all in our weakest parts.”

      Rose couldn’t think of a single word to say. If this tale had a logical conclusion, she couldn’t imagine what it would be.

      “Still, it’d be killing two birds with one stone, wouldn’t it?”

      That night, as was their habit, Bess and Horace shared tea, brandy, cigars and an assessment of the day’s events. They’d lived for years in the same neighborhood, three blocks apart. “So you see,” Bess was saying, “if Rose agrees to it, Matt won’t have much choice, he’ll have to go along. By this time he’ll be too desperate to stand on his high horse.”

      “What if he’s found someone from the village to take the baby off his hands?”

      “If he could’ve, he would’ve by now.”

      “Speaking of Rose, how is she settling in?”

      “I put her in that women’s boarding place just off Dominion. The rooms are small, but it’s clean, decent and cheap.”

      “She’ll be out first thing tomorrow looking for work,” Horace reminded her. “If she finds it, what happens to your plan to pair her up with your nephew?”

      “Finding work won’t be easy. She’s feeling her way right now, but she’s got pride and backbone. Women wanting a maid or a governess won’t like it, it throws off the natural pecking order.”

      “What makes you think your nephew will hire her?”

      “Like I said, the boy’s got no choice. If he did, he’d never have asked for my help.” She chuckled. Lifting her left foot to the ottoman, she gently massaged her knee through layers of serge, taffeta and muslin. “Can you picture me with a leaky, squalling babe in my lap? The good Lord knew what He was doing when He gave babies to young folks. We old folks don’t have the patience, much less the energy.”

      Horace nursed his brandy and stared into the fireplace. “Now why,” he mused, “do I get the feeling you’re up to something more than just finding a nursemaid for young Captain Powers?”

      Chapter Two

      They called her Annie, after Billy’s mother. At the moment she was shrieking, stinking and kicking. For all of ten seconds Matt stood in the doorway and thought about walking away. Walking until he could no longer smell the stench or hear the ear-splitting wails.

      “You write to that aunt of yours again?” Crankshaw Higgins, the eldest member of the unorthodox household, set down the half-empty nursing bottle. With a harried look, he handed over the baby, along with a clean huck towel.

      “Third letter went out last week,” Matt replied.

      “She going to take her off your hands?”

      “Hasn’t said yet.”

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