Miss Morgan,’ Oliver said after a moment. ‘It’s just that a lady like yourself, coming from a privileged home, could hardly be expected to lift a broom or a duster. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘Oh, we all had our tasks at home,’ she assured him. ‘Mother didn’t believe in other people doing work we were quite capable of doing ourselves. “Hard work is good for the soul, the figure and the complexion”, she always used to say, and I’m sure my aunt believes the same.’
The Cook spluttered into her tea and Oliver rose creakily to his feet.
‘Well, I’m sure Mrs Wilks will be ready to see you by now, Miss Morgan. I shall take you to her rooms, if you wish.’
‘Oh, please don’t trouble yourself! I remember the way very clearly. And thank you for the tea and scones, Mrs…’
The Cook smiled. ‘Mrs Webb, dear. Now do make sure you call in after you’ve seen your aunt, won’t you? On your way back to Australia,’ she added darkly as the door closed after Caro.
‘Ooh, I thought she were nice.’ Agnes sniffed dejectedly. ‘I hope she don’t go.’
‘She might be nice, but she came down in the last shower,’ Mrs Webb informed her. ‘Gawd help her, she’s still sopping wet! I give her a day before He tries to put one over her…’
‘You mean across her, Mrs Webb,’ interjected Oliver.
‘That, too, Mr Oliver,’ the Cook snapped. ‘Oh, it’s better by far that she leaves here with her virtue than That Man has his way with her. Just look at Madam.’
Oliver leaned forward to prod the embers in the stove. ‘You’re right, of course, Mrs Webb. It will be in her best interests to leave as soon as possible. She won’t be safe here, not with her looks and Madam and That Man…’
They all nodded in sad accord and sat staring at the dying fire, lost in their own thoughts.
Chapter Two
C aro tapped on her aunt’s door and, hearing no response, opened it slowly.
Her aunt was standing before the long mirror, smoothing her pale ringlets over her shoulders. She was dressed now, in an elegant gown of dark blue that enhanced her milky skin and slim figure. Deep ruffles of ivory lace covered any victory of gravity around her neck and décolletage, and provided a perfect frame for her heart-shaped face. There was much more than a passing resemblance to Caro’s beautiful mother, but Charlotte had an air of fragility and wistfulness that was all her own, and Caro felt a surge of protectiveness towards this glamorous relative she barely knew.
‘Come in, darling. Sit down.’ Charlotte waved a lethargic hand in the general direction of the bed. Caro carefully moved aside a few of the dresses and assorted slippers lying in disarray over the eiderdown and sat.
‘Now, you must tell me all about yourself and what wonderful stroke of fortune has delivered you to my door!’ Charlotte perched herself on her dressing-table chair and regarded her niece with tilted head and affectionate smile. ‘Do you know, you were only six months old when I last saw you? What a perfectly beautiful girl you’ve grown into! You obviously favour your father’s side of the family. My darling first husband, Edward—who was, of course, also your grandfather! Just fancy that!—had the same chin as you, you know, with that little dimple. Your fair hair, of course, you got from my side of the family… On the other hand, your father is fair, too, isn’t he? Or…I imagine he’s gone grey by now…’
‘Only a little bit,’ Caro assured her.
Charlotte turned and began fiddling with the hair-brushes on her dressing table. ‘Has he gone bald?’
‘No.’
‘Has he got fat?’
‘No.’
Caro was almost certain her aunt said ‘Damn!’ under her breath, so hastened to add that her mother and her mother’s younger sisters were all happy and in good health. Her aunt, though, didn’t seem to be listening with any great attention. She showed a little more animation when Caro went on to describe her own family, and got her niece to repeat several times the information that Caro had seven sisters and no brothers. For some reason she seemed to find it most amusing.
‘Poor Ben,’ she said, and laughed. ‘I’ll wager he’s not happy about that!’
‘He isn’t,’ Caro agreed. ‘He says he has to take great care about who we marry as a result. That’s what I’m doing here.’
‘You didn’t like his choice, hmm?’ Her aunt watched Caro’s reflection in the mirror pull a face. ‘Ben never did like being thwarted.’ She sighed prettily. ‘I’m living testament to that, my dear.’
‘My parents never spoke of you, Aunt Charlotte,’ Caro said hesitantly. ‘Was there…ah…I mean, I don’t know what happened between you…?’
Charlotte gave a light, brittle laugh and waved her hands dismissively. ‘Darling, it was all a long time ago, and all really rather silly. Your father never did forgive me for marrying his father, you see, and when Edward died on our honeymoon to England, and I had to come back to Sydney, he cut me off without a penny. If it hadn’t been for some very kind friends I would have…well, I would have starved on the streets, darling.’ She gave a little sniff as her eyes filled with bright tears, and she went on bravely, ‘But I survived and married again—to the sweetest man imaginable!—and when he died my heart was broken all over again, and so I came here and married again, and—well—I’ve done all right, haven’t I?’
Immeasurably moved by her aunt’s stoicism, Caro leapt to her feet and embraced her warmly.
‘Of course you have, Aunt Charlotte! Oh, you poor, poor thing! But why would Father have done such a thing to you? I can’t believe that he could have been so cruel!’
Charlotte dabbed at her eyes with a scrap of lace. ‘I couldn’t say. Well, I shouldn’t say this, darling, but…’ she managed a tight, courageous little smile and said in a rush ‘…oh, I rejected him in favour of his father, and I don’t believe he’s ever forgiven me! Isn’t that silly, to hold such a grudge over so many years?’
‘But Mother and Father have always been so happy,’ Caro said in bewilderment, remembering the easy affection she had always witnessed between her parents, the way her mother’s face lit up whenever her father came into a room, the way their eyes would meet over the heads of their children in amused camaraderie. Lovely as Aunt Charlotte probably used to be, Caro simply couldn’t imagine her father ever looking at any woman other than her mother. Charlotte, correctly reading the expressions on her niece’s face, leaned forward to tap her gently on the wrist.
‘It was years ago, darling, before you were born. Why, I’ve almost forgotten about it myself. Except that…well, things would have been very different if your father had been one to let bygones be bygones. But, here I am and here you are and…oh, isn’t this just lovely?’
She clasped Caro’s hands in hers and smiled warmly. She was being so kind that Caro, remembering what the hotel staff had told her about her aunt’s straitened circumstances, felt a twinge of guilt.
‘Aunt Charlotte, I haven’t any money with me,’ she said in a rush. ‘I
