Nell by Elizabeth Bailey Page A

the Jarrows!’
    He had stalked away on the words, leaving Nell torn between shock and dismay. Thereafter, when she had seen his lordship at dinner, conversation with him had been strictly neutral. When Mr Beresford was present, he hardly spoke at all, allowing his brother-in-law to maintain the burden of conversation, which did nothing to alleviate the heavy atmosphere generated by the brooding silence at the head of the table.
    Even during the day when she was in the schoolroom, Nell was oddly aware of his lordship, although she sawnothing of him. But she knew from Mrs Whyte that he spent the better part of his time inhabiting that room in the adjacent turret, from which he had emerged the first day. The knowledge kept her from too frequently walking alone on the roof, but the need—either from frustration or a desire for fresh air—sometimes outweighed caution. The roof, moreover, afforded a degree of release from the sense of being shut in. Despite the isolation, it gave her an illusion of space not to be found in the castle rooms. Yet the knowledge of Lord Jarrow’s presence not far away was a deterrent. Nell welcomed her sessions with the housekeeper.
    From Mrs Whyte she had learned that the Jarrows had been traditionally Catholic, another cause of disfavour in the eyes of the ruling Royal house. The Baron of Queen Anne’s day, the same that had purchased Padnall Place, had converted to Protestantism, but religious fervour had never afterwards been a strong point. The household, revealed Mrs Whyte, had fallen out of the way of attending Sunday Service at Collier Row a short time after the Jarrows had returned from London for good.
    Against her employer’s express command, Nell was left with no choice but to introduce Christian precepts indirectly, only to improve her pupil’s behaviour. Deciding that the task of bringing Lord Jarrow back to God lay outside her province, Nell contented herself with her own weekly prayers—for the present. She could not help but be intrigued by the notion that his troubles had been of a nature dreadful enough to cause him to eschew religion altogether.
     
    It was not, Nell insisted to a niggling conscience, vulgar curiosity that had led her lately to dropping into the kitchen a second time, when lessons finished for the afternoon. The housekeeper downed tools in her preparation of the evening meal, dismissing the handyman Grig without ceremony.
    The fellow was a large man, with an expression of amiable vacancy, who took no exception to the manner of Mrs Whyte’s address.
    ‘Be off with you, now! I don’t want you shambling about the kitchen and fidgeting Miss Faraday.’
    Favouring Nell with a grin and a touch of his forelock, Grig withdrew, leaving the housekeeper to settle down with Nell for a refreshing cup of tea. She baked only once a week, but she always produced a cake or biscuit from her store for Nell’s delectation, and would not hear of it being refused.
    ‘There’s precious little luxury in this barrack of a place, ma’am, so you’d best take it where you find it.’
    Nell protested in vain that she did not come for the treat. ‘I come for your company, Mrs Whyte, and I am only grateful that you allow me to disturb you.’
    ‘Bless you, my dear, ’tis a pleasure! A body can do with another female for company, and you may believe it’s as much my comfort as your own, for I’ve no one else bar Joyce, and I can’t say as I relish—I mean, I can’t say we’ve a deal in common.’
    Noting the slip, Nell’s curiosity almost got the better of her discretion. Did Mrs Whyte dislike the nurse as much as she did herself? Nell knew she could not support a discussion about Duggan without betraying how she felt. She had best withdraw.
    Leaving the housekeeper to resume her cooking, she returned by way of the hall and climbed back up to the schoolroom. It had become her habit to return there aftertea to tidy the place and make preparations towards future