“There must be – something that I – can do,” Ivana was saying. “After all I have had an extensive education and – ”
She stopped and gave a little cry.
“But, of course!” she exclaimed. “I did the accounts in the country when Papa was in the War and, after he was killed, Mama left everything to me. I could be a secretary!”
Looking at her, Nanny thought it was very unlikely that anyone who looked as lovely as Ivana would be employed by a woman.
And if a man should do so, it would undoubtedly be dangerous.
“Perhaps,” she said after a moment, “you could be a reader to an elderly lady. After all they needs someone to read to them when they’re gettin’ old and goin’ blind and you have a really lovely reading voice.”
“That is what Mama used to say,” Ivana answered. “I would read the Collects to her on a Sunday and then the poems of Lord Byron. They made her cry because they reminded her of Papa.”
She sighed deeply and recalled how happy she had been reading to her mother before Keith Waring came into her life.
Then, as if forcing herself to be practical, she asked Nanny,
“How can I find out if there is a position out there waiting for me? Would there be an advertisement for a reader in the newspapers perhaps?”
“You have to go to an Employment Agency, dearie,” Nanny replied. “I’ll try and find out from Mrs. Bell downstairs which is the best one in London.”
When they first came to London, Mrs. Bell had been engaged to clean the house and help Nanny with the cooking.
Nanny was a very good cook and had started to cook when they had been in the country.
After she was bereaved, Mrs. Sherard had to be tempted to eat anything and, after they came to London, Nanny had continued cooking because she enjoyed it so much.
What was more she was far cheaper than anyone else they could have employed.
Mrs. Bell charged very little for coming to the house for only two or three hours every morning. She cleaned out the fireplaces, scrubbed the floors and made the beds.
“Yes, ask Mrs. Bell,” Ivana said, “and ask her quickly, Nanny, because there is no time to lose.”
She felt a sense of terror surging through her body and it was making her feel incredibly agitaed.
Every minute was drawing her closer and closer to the moment when Lord Hanford, with his red face and his swimming eyes, would pull her roughly into his phaeton beside him and drive her away to unmitigated hell.
He would carry her away to the country where she would be imprisoned and never have any chance of escape.
Nanny rose from her chair.
“Now, you sit here,” she said, speaking as if Ivana was three years old, “and be careful, if your stepfather comes in here not to let him know what you have overheard him talkin’ to Lord Hanford.”
“No, of course – not,” Ivana said, “but hurry – do hurry – Nanny, I am frightened – I am terribly – frightened!”
Nanny went from the room and Ivana sat down in the chair that she had vacated and put her hands over her eyes.
How can this have happened?
How could the future be so degrading and so utterly abominable and menacing?
It was like being a dark room that she would never be able to escape from.
She knew well that her stepfather was a weak character and he was quite incapable of making money, only of losing it at the gaming tables.
He had, however, she had to admit even now at this time of terror, been really in love with her mother.
That was not so surprising since Mrs. Sherard had been exceedingly beautiful and lovely in every sense of the words.
There had been a great many men in love with her before she had met the Honourable Hugo Sherard.
They had both fallen in love with each other virtually at first sight and been ecstatically happy.
Years later, the Dragoon Guards, the Regiment that he was serving in, was sent to the Peninsula to fight for his King and country. They had formulated a brilliantly conceived plan to attack Napoleon where he might least have expected it.
However, after less than a year abroad, Hugo Sherard was killed.
At first Ivana thought that her mother would die too from grief and anguish.
Then, when she had seemed to be fading away and becoming weaker and weaker, Keith Waring appeared.
He was indeed an exceedingly handsome young man and because of his looks he had been spoilt dreadfully by every woman who had ever met him.
And Mrs. Sherard was no exception.
He was so very different from her first husband that in a way she mothered him.
She could not resist him when he finally declared that he would die if she did not marry him.
Ivana realised that it was a sacrifice on his part because he could, if he had wished, marry someone far richer and more prestigious.
But he genuinely loved her mother.
That, however, did not prevent him from spending every penny she possessed without thinking at all what the consequences would be.
Ivana had never liked him. She knew that he thought of her as just an encumbrance and resented the affection that her mother very obviously had for her.
From one or two things he had said recently she knew that he was thinking that, if he could find her a rich husband, he would be able to get her off his hands.
He would also undoubtedly line his own pockets to gamble with at the same time.
She never in her wildest imagination, however, thought that he could stoop so low as to ‘sell her’ to someone as unpleasant and dislikeable as Lord Hanford.
Lord Hanford was immensely rich that was undeniable and he could easily buy whatever he desired just by lifting his little finger.
Equally she could imagine how completely horrified both her father and mother would be at such despicable behaviour.
How could she contemplate the idea of living with a man without being married to him?
‘How can I possibly – do anything so – humiliating?’ she thought bitterly to herself.
She heard a footstep outside the door and was apprehensive for a moment that it was her stepfather.
But it was Nanny who came bustling into the room.
Because Ivana had jumped instinctively to her feet and was looking terrified, Nanny said soothingly,
“It’s all right, dearie, he’s gone out with his Lordship. He left a message with Mrs. Bell that he will not be back for luncheon or dinner.”
Because they had been counting every farthing that was spent in the household lately, Ivana could not help thinking that this would save two meals.
Nanny closed the door behind her.
“I’ve found out what we wants to know,” she said. “The best Agency be Mrs. Hill’s on Mount Street.”
“That is some distance away,” Ivana remarked.
“I know,” Nanny said, “but if you’ve got to work for anyone, I’ll see to it as you works for the best!”
“Shall we go there at once?” Ivana asked.
“You’d better have your luncheon first,” Nanny said. “There be no hurry, the Master won’t be comin’ back till the early hours of the mornin’,