he had forgotten her very existence.
“Oh, good. I must find him when we return. It is no use talking to Nana. She will simply dither forever, or else do something silly like leave Lily and Jenny at Westron. Mrs. Burgess was horrified to find we had brought no maids.”
“Do you make so much work then?” asked Elaine in surprise.
“Nana needs a lot of help,” explained Helen. “We let her think she is in charge, but usually Lily looks after me and Jenny looks after Nana. Old age is getting her down. She was my mother’s nurse, and my grandmother’s as well.”
Helen continued to chatter about her life as they returned to the house. The girl alternated between childish silliness and a startling maturity, undoubtedly arising from her upbringing. It was obvious that she had taken on the role of protector, looking after her elderly nurse and seeing to many of her own needs.
From Helen’s description, the nurse sounded a loving incompetent at best and a senile invalid at worst. Allowing the woman to leave the nursery maids behind also cast doubt on the competence of the Westron housekeeper and steward. At the very least, they would have needed the servants during the grueling week of travel that brought them to Cornwall.
“Where did you find her, Miss Thompson?” asked Burgess when they at last presented themselves at the door. Anxiety troubled his eyes despite his wooden countenance.
“On Lookout Peak.” Burgess’s expression changed to horror.
“I want to show Miss Elaine around the house,” announced Helen. “She has never been here before.”
“Of course, my lady,” answered Burgess smoothly. “But perhaps you could first find Mrs. Burgess and ask that a tea tray be readied.”
Elaine started to protest the need but was stopped by the command in Burgess’s eyes. As soon as Helen left, he relaxed. “Pardon me, Miss Thompson, but this was a complete surprise. The message announcing their arrival must have gone astray.”
“Is Rose not yet returned from her mother’s sickbed?” Rose was the only housemaid at Treselyan.
He shook his head.
“You have a problem, then. From Lady Helen’s comments, I deduce that her nurse needs at least as much care as the child and that both nursery maids were left behind.”
“Exactly. Is there anyone in the village who would be willing to work here during their stay?”
“Not to my knowledge. Betsy Higgins just accepted a post near Wadebridge and Lisa Smith is still abed with an inflammation of the lungs. You will have to send to Bodmin. And someone must instill a little caution in that girl. I was near the cave when she came upon me. She seemed fascinated by the place.”
Burgess paled.
Elaine shook her head. “We both know how impassable that path is after a storm. One slip and she would be over the side.”
“We must forbid her to leave the grounds.”
“Miss Becklin has more experience with children than I, but I suspect Lady Helen is the sort to balk at obedience. On the other hand, she seems very intelligent. Perhaps explaining the dangers would have more effect.”
Helen returned and guided Elaine through the house. It was old-fashioned, worn, and neglected – hardly surprising given the estate’s history. But Elaine was able to make enthusiastic remarks about the well-proportioned rooms and the beautifully textured paneling in the hall and the library. Helen finally returned to the drawing room where Burgess produced a tea tray. Though her hands shook, Helen managed the teapot and passed a plate of cakes and scones, successfully carrying off the role of lady of the manor while she chattered about her recent journey. Only then did Elaine excuse herself.
But once she was alone, her footsteps lagged. The afternoon’s confrontation had triggered too many memories and had opened a Pandora’s box of emotions. Uppermost was an unexpected wave of sorrow that she would never have a child of her own. She had vowed eight years earlier never to