The Royal Nanny (4 page)

I
'd best get back in case they need me,” I told Chad as we rode on our second loop toward York Cottage. Bertie was on my lap, and David held on to me, standing. I knew why. All the times I'd seen Mrs. Peters pat or rub his bum—was it a reminder of a previous beating, of her warped “love” and power over him? I dared not think it could be more, that she had abused him in other ways.

Despite Chad's banter with the boys and the sunshine on my face, my stomach was still in knots from what I'd seen and done today—and what must be next to come. Would I be sacked before I even saw the new infant, one who was to be in my care and I'd been so excited about tending?

“So, Master David and Master Bertie,” Chad was saying, “are you hoping you will be blessed with a brother or a sister?”

“We don't have a sister,” David whispered, as if that were some sort of secret. “I say a sister, so she won't ride my rocking horse. Bertie wants to, but he's too small unless Lala holds him.”

“Unless Lala holds him,” Chad echoed and shot a smile my way. “Sounds worth the rocking ride to me.”

He was flirting with me and didn't know his timing was terrible. Could he not tell I was distraught? Besides, one of the rules for women in service was no followers at the door, taking one's mind off one's duties. I only assumed Chad Reaver wasn't wed or at least betrothed. If I were a village girl, I would set my cap for him.

“Carriage coming from behind,” he said before he even looked back on the road. “Lady Dugdale's been sent for to attend the duchess, and the regular house driver's gone to fetch her. I heard her train come in. Next time we'll ride to watch the trains come in, eh, lads? Meanwhile, you, Miss Charlotte Bill, were honored to have me and a coal wagon when you arrived.”

“Lady Dugdale interviewed me in London and hired me for the duchess, and I liked her very much. Chad, will he let her off at the front door? I need a quick word with her.”

“Probably not the best of times, but I hope not the worst. Righto, we can draw up there when she does.”

I'd been agonizing over whom to go through to tell the Yorks that Mrs. Peters was abusing the boys. I'd considered Mrs. Wentworth or my friend Rose, though I didn't feel it was fair to put them in the middle of this. I dared not try to face the duke, but I wasn't giving these boys back into that horrid woman's care. And I wanted to keep my post here.

Chad pulled us round near the front steps as a fine-looking landau with its top thrown back arrived. Lady Dugdale and a woman who must be her lady's maid sat inside. Despite wearing a brimmed bonnet, her ladyship held a parasol against the late April sun. And here I was in a nurse's plain gray linen day dress and
white apron with no coat or bonnet since I'd grabbed the boys and come out so quickly.

Still, I knew this was my best chance to have an ally, an influential one with the duchess, one who had once recommended me. It seemed she was a gift from heaven.

“Boys, you sit here with Chad and be very good,” I told them but my voice wavered as Chad gave me a hand down. On shaky legs I walked to the carriage and curtsied.

Eva Dugdale was petite and pretty but, I'd heard, a formidable force in the Duchess of York's life with the title lady-in-waiting, however much she came and went. I'd been told by the maid at the London home where I had been sent for an interview that her ladyship was the only daughter of the 4th Earl of Warwick and had been reared in a castle, no less. She was wed to a great friend of the duke's, but she and the duchess had known each other for years. Their mothers were good friends, and they had played together as girls. She had seemed kind to me when she had hired me for the York household, and I silently prayed she could help me now.

“Why, it's Miss Bill with the boys,” she said as she was helped down from the carriage by a York Cottage footman. “Good to get them out with all that's going on inside. I hope I'm in time. Any news yet?”

“Not when I brought David and Bertie out, milady. I know you are sent for but, please, just a quick word with you.”

“Aren't things going well? You look distressed.”

“Milady, have the duke and duchess told you how David bursts into tears when taken to them at teatime? How Bertie's always jumpy and scared . . . and hungry?”

“Something about the boys? Come over here,” she said and led me a few steps away from her maid and the pile of her luggage the driver and footman were unloading under the watchful eye of the house butler. She squinted toward the wagon. “They're not ill?”

“Milady, their head nurse, Mrs. Peters, is not well . . . in her mind. She's been mistreating them, tormenting David and ignoring Bertie, even not feeding him regular, I fear. She kept me at arm's length and tried to browbeat me, but she did beat David. I saw it today, and she seemed quite demented. He's black and blue, has bruises I'd seen before, but she told me he fell. Please, can you help me protect the lads from her? I brought them outside in a rush but—”

She reached out to squeeze my clasped hands with her gloved one. “Oh, no. I found her for them too, and they've had such trouble with nurses. They . . . surely, they must not know about this.”

I shook my head, thinking
S
urely, they should know
but I said only, “Mrs. Peters had the boys scared to death and the staff afraid to make a peep.”

“But you, brave girl, have done so. The timing's dreadful, but I know how they are,” she said with a quick sideways glance at York Cottage. “Busy, wrapped up in duties, even each other. But this must be kept quiet at all costs. You may have to explain it to them when the happy news of the baby is over. For now, I'll take care of this, and you take care of the lads. I must go in now. Stay out a few minutes more, give me time to clear things for you to watch them and get Peters away. I must go in now,” she repeated.

Worry lines etched her face. Tears gilded her eyes. She still held my hand, which she squeezed again before moving away. She stopped at Chad's wagon and reached up to pat both of the boys'
hands that gripped the wooden sides. They had twisted around as if to not let me out of their sight.

“David, dear, how are you?” her voice floated to me as I followed her over. “Do you like Miss Bill?” she asked with a nod my way.

“We call her Lala,” he told her solemnly in his thin, high voice. “She won't let anyone hurt me, ever again.”

“Lala she nice,” Bertie chimed in. “I hungry.”

“And I shall see that you have some good food sent to the nursery in a few moments,” she told them. “Lala can eat with you, and I don't think Mrs. Peters will be back. Would that be quite all right?”

Bertie nodded so hard I thought he'd hurt his neck. David, bless him, told her, “When Mama is better, I want to tell her Mrs. Peters is naughty, not me.”

Lady Dugdale looked back at me, nodded, then marched up the steps and in the front door the butler was holding open.

L
ESS THAN AN
hour later, I sat with David and Bertie in the day nursery eating our generous tea of biscuits, jam, porridge, milk—tea for me—and, to the delight of the boys, rice pudding. We halted our chatter at a knock on the door.

“Please come in!” I called out, not wanting to copy Nurse Peters's brusque “Enter!”

Mrs. Wentworth popped her head in. “Lady Dugdale said to tell you and the lads that they have a baby sister named Mary. All is well. And the duke himself may drop by. Busy now, all of us,” she said and was gone.

“See, you both have been blessed with the sister you wanted,” I told them with a little pat on both their heads. David had scooted
his chair so close to me I kept bumping him with my elbow. He was sitting on a down pillow and seemed taller than usual. Bertie had not stopped eating, so what I had sadly surmised must have been true: the child had been ill fed, and maybe some days not at all, because Mrs. Peters had been so possessive and obsessed with David.

I couldn't fathom the duke might make an appearance here, but I rose to fold and put away my clothes that had been delivered while Mrs. Peters's goods had been hastily taken out. I shoved my half-empty box under the bed I would now sleep in until a new head nurse was hired. I had hopes I was to stay and tend to baby Mary.

I sang the boys nursery rhymes I'd learned at Dr. Lockwood's house, to tunes I made up on my own, but I carefully avoided “Rock-a-bye Baby” this time. When there came a sharp
rap, rap, rap
on the door, I bounced up and both lads came to attention as if they recognized the knock, David standing, Bertie stopping after three muffins, which I should not have permitted, but I felt so for what he'd been through. Time enough to establish my own timetable and rules for them, until another head nurse arrived.

In case it was the duke, I hurried to the door, for no shout to enter would do.

Indeed I opened the door on him and dropped a curtsy. “We are honored to have your father here, boys. Bid him a good evening.”

David parroted, “Good evening,” and Bertie, his mouth still full, managed “Good.”

Despite the momentous news of the new baby, the duke still
stood stiff and stern. He took only one step inside. “You two have a sister now, and I'll expect you to help your new nurse to take good care of her.”

“Yes, Papa,” David said. “I wanted a sister—Bertie too, because we don't have one.”

The duke almost smiled at that. “Well, there's some news. Mrs. Lala,” he said, turning to me, “I hear we've had some rough seas, but you acted decisively, as you should.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Well, you'll need help keeping things shipshape here with the new baby and the boys. But a new undernurse, two nursemaids, and a nursery footman will help. You will help, too, won't you, lads?”

David managed a proper “Yes, sir,” and Bertie, with his jam-smeared mouth that I should have wiped, nodded.

“I'm pleased to have peace and quiet here,” the duke said and started out.

I could hardly find my voice. He'd called me Mrs. Lala! Good gracious, he must have meant I was to be the head nurse for all three children. I felt tongue-tied at the mere thought.

“Ah,” he said, turning back in the hallway. “Lady Dugdale mentioned your father captains a launch on the Thames, Mrs. Lala.”

“Yes, sir. A small boat for hire, and I loved going out on it.”

“Then you know something of seafaring discipline, so be certain these lads learn that. They will both eventually follow me into the Royal Navy, the best in the world for building men and the empire. Good night, sons. As soon as they're tucked up, Mrs. Lala, best leave them with a nursemaid and come to the duchess's bedroom to have a peek at
the baby. The doctor's here for the night, after which you will take over.”

I was hoping he would hug his sons or at least ruffle their hair the way Chad had, but his visit and his words would have to be enough. And so was I truly, at age—well, after all I was twenty-two!—to be head nurse to three royal children.

I
N THE DUCHESS
'
S
bedroom, the duke and doctor were not in sight. It was such a beautiful room in lavender and pale yellow, which made its modest size seem larger. A flower-patterned carpet was soft underfoot. The silk, tasseled drapes were closed. Family photographs crowded the dressing table.

Lady Dugdale sat in an upholstered beige silk chair near the large, canopied bed. Her slippered feet rested on an ottoman. Rose busied herself in the far corner, though she shot me a nod and a smile. And, there it was, a white, frilly bassinette next to the bed. I came closer and curtsied.

Lady Dugdale saw me and stood. She bent over the duchess who had her eyes closed. She looked pale and wan but somehow radiant—or at the least, relieved.

“Baby Mary's nurse is here, dear,” Lady Dugdale told her friend. “I believe the boys have dubbed her Lala.”

The duchess's eyes fluttered open. “Come closer, Mrs. Lala.” Her voice was hoarse and soft.

I did and bobbed her another curtsy. “Congratulations on your first daughter, Your Grace,” I told her. I glanced toward the bassinette but couldn't see inside.

“And last daughter, perhaps last child,” the duchess said with a deep sigh. “On top of the heir and the spare, yes, Eva?”

Lady Dugdale patted her hand, then held it, even as she had mine when I was distressed. Indeed, I knew childbirth was a terrible trial. I'd heard my own mother scream for hours, even curse in the pain of it. But once it was over, I thought the joy of it would cover all of that. Well, what did I know of it, virgin and caretaker of others' babes?

“Take a look at your new charge,” the duchess said, turning her head toward the bassinette. “The doctor will give her over to your care soon, tomorrow, I think, though I've quite lost track of time. Say hello to Victoria Alexandra Mary, to be called Mary, my mother's namesake.”

The infant was swathed in white satin and lace with only a pink face visible, crowned by a touch of hair so blond it looked white, but then many infants were born blond and went to brown. I could see no more of her, but I would, this precious bundle. She opened her little eyes—cornflower blue—to blink once at me before seeming to sleep instantly again.

“Oh, she's so lovely,” I whispered. “David and Bertie will be in awe.”

“Best they—and you—have a last good night's sleep,” Lady Dugdale said. “The doctor may have a word with you, but he and the duke are at cigars and celebration drinks right now. And, oh yes, the proud grandparents from the Big House will be here tomorrow afternoon to see her, so best be ready for that.”

“Yes, milady. Thank you,” I said and curtsied again.

“And, Charlotte . . . Lala,” Lady Dugdale said, “the duke and duchess are grateful that you have taken good care of their sons. Your concern for David and Bertie is well noted. And I must tell you what the upper and downstairs staff have already been told by
Mrs. Wentworth. Mrs. Peters has become very ill. She has been taken away to get the care she needs. So that will be all for now—as that is quite enough for one day.”