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Jo gestured for Nora to leave the sitting room with her. “Let’s take that walk.” She went into the entryway, where she donned gloves and a hat. “Will I be warm enough?”
Nora was wearing one of the few serviceable gowns she owned—a light wool—and nothing else for added warmth. “You’ll be chilly at first, but you’ll warm up.”
Jo nodded and opened the door for Nora to precede her outside. “Are you going with him to Dorset?”
The sun was now peeking through the clouds. Nora tipped her head down so that the rim of her bonnet shaded her eyes. “There isn’t room for me. I have to find another arrangement.”
Jo stopped in her tracks, turning to stare at Nora. “You can’t mean—”
Nora touched her younger sister’s arm gently. “No, I do not expect to live with you. I know Matthias would never allow it.”
Jo exhaled, her expression pained. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s my fault you’re married to such a stiff-neck anyway.” Because Nora’s ruinous behavior had ruined her chances for a Season.
Jo frowned as she glanced back toward the vicarage. “Don’t say that. I know you see him as unforgiving and judgmental, which I agree are not the best traits for a vicar,” she said wryly. “However, he’s a kind husband. I could do far worse.”
I could be unmarried like you.
The unspoken words invaded Nora’s brain and took up residence. This was not the life she’d planned. Alone. Lonely. And now with an absolutely unknown future before her. All because she’d flirted with the wrong man and foolishly accepted his love-soaked, specious invitation to meet him privately. She’d quite made her own mess.
Nora started walking again, and they made their way along the narrow lane that led to the vicarage before cutting across the field to a shallow stream where they liked to take picnics in the summer. “Anyway, I was hoping you could help me think of something. I doubt Aunt Polly would take me in.”
Jo made a face. “You wouldn’t want to live on a sheep farm. I don’t suppose Cousin Clara would allow you to live with her, not after what happened. No, that way is closed I think.”
Firmly.Nora nodded in agreement. “Father suggested I become a governess or a lady’s companion.”
“That’s not a terrible notion,” Jo said. “Is experience required for such work?”
Nora shrugged. “How difficult could it be? Especially as a lady’s companion?”
Jo winced. “Will your…past be an issue in obtaining this sort of employment?”
Nora exhaled. “I don’t know. But I don’t seem to have any other choice. I shall write to an agency in London and make an inquiry.”
“Perhaps you should use a different name—maybe take Mother’s.”
Nora smiled as she cast a sidelong glance toward her sister. “And become Eleanor Godbehere?” They giggled together.
Jo shook her head. “Poor Mother had the most tragic surname.”
And ill-fitting since God hadn’t seemed to be anywhere around when she’d succumbed to a long and particularly painful illness when Nora had been just seven and Jo only five.
As they neared the stream, Nora stopped and stared at her younger sister, whose life she’d also inadvertently ruined nine years ago. “I think I’d prefer to be honest about who I am. Disingenuousness is what led me into disaster in the first place.” She’d told Cousin Clara, her sponsor, that she was going to the retiring room with another young lady. Instead, Nora had gone to the library to meet Lord Haywood, the man she’d fancied herself in love with.
Jo strolled to the edge of the water. “I suppose that’s the best thing to do.” She smiled at Nora. “You are not at all the foolish girl you were nine years ago.”
“Thank goodness, no.” Nora shuddered to think of that wide-eyed, naïve young lady. If she could go back and behave differently, she’d do it in a trice. She bent and picked up a smooth rock, then joined Jo where she skipped the stone into the brook with a flick of her wrist.
“Will you be at all anxious to be in London?” Jo asked.
Nora thought about what she might say or do if she saw the people who’d been so quick to disdain her, or worse, if she encountered Lord Haywood. She shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. “I may not even end up working in London.”
“If you’re to be a companion, I daresay that’s precisely where you’ll be, especially with the Season starting.”
Yes, that would be the best arrangement. The thought of returning to London—the dinner parties, the promenades, the balls—was a bit daunting, but it would also be a change of pace from the lonely life she’d inhabited in St. Ives. It was also far better than a sheep pasture.
“You’ll write to me every day?” Jo asked, her gaze earnest and intense. “I will write to you too—for support.”
