N (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 27 - Who Works

By the time they retired to bed, aunty had entertained everyone with some of her more adult songs. Constance tapped her feet to the tune, highly amused, hoping the staff had not overheard the lewd lyrics. She had rattled around the house on her own, lonely, lost, the beauty and fragrance of the tea plantations now a distant memory. The occasional visitor dropped by for afternoon tea. Apart from the vicar who was a regular, always in search of a wealthy benefactor able to contribute to the upkeep of the church, particularly its leaky roof. She obliged with a large donation each Christmas and a hamper for the vicar's family as a token from the estate.

The task of keeping the estate running until such time as it passed directly to her, or Alice's child, was not taxing as such. It ran itself for the most part, the staff attending to its upkeep without too much assistance, making sure repairs were carried out, larders stocked, the gardens managed, the butler overseeing all bills. A genial fellow, late fifty's married to the housekeeper, the pair keeping the house in order. Not one for gossip, accepting his new mistress had different ways, he was more than happy to turn a blind eye to what went on in the bedroom, counselling other members of staff to do the same, if they wanted to keep their jobs.

Then there were all of Alice's businesses. Not one of Constance's strengths, she continued to use the services of two accountants, one being Mr. Jeremy Chetri, very capable if a little young. His business acumen exemplary and his profound knowledge of the Indian tea market making him popular among plantation owners. The other was a Mr. Randolph Nedley, acquaintance of the Russell family, with a well-established accounting practice in London. Alice had never met him, unable to visit given the vast distance between them. She relied on the good judgement of her husband's family and George, who was an astute businessman.

Nicole knew none of this. Having been nothing more than a stable lad and tent peg puller, the concept of owning a business, let alone several, was as alien to her as words on a page. Constance had told her she was independently wealthy. To her that meant nothing. All she understood was she had a large house, possessing lots and lots of windows, with an equally large stable block surrounded by trees. Lots and lots of trees. She would need to become acquainted with all matters, learning how manage the entirety of her inheritance. If she so chose.

Waverly had continued with Nicole's learning, as best she could, the urgency of reading words on the chalk board often overlooked for the urgency of reading lips, as her N called it. If only she had known this would be an important skill in the future. The reading of course. And writing. Not the joining of lips. Oh for the gift of foresight. Nicole would also need to learn how to count beyond five, her mother's finances requiring a keen eye for bigger numbers. So much to do, so much to learn, Nicole was happy simply to be sharing a bed with Waverly.

The butler was summoned by Constance to show aunty and Wynonna to their rooms. Nicole could hear Wynonna whooping as he opened the door to her room, she giving him strict instructions on what she wanted for breakfast. She would need to return to the circus mid-morning to resume solo performances. For now, she was more than content to be living the high life. Aunty was a little too drunk to care which room she got, attempting to give the butler a kiss on the cheek, he resisting.

Nicole opened the door to her bedroom as quietly as she could, entering, making sure she locked it once inside. Waverly was lying on top of the bed, still dressed, a blanket over her, a tray of food untouched on the small table beside. She had had nothing to eat all day. Nicole knelt before her, brushing her hair back, worried she needed something inside her, as much for the growing child as her. Waverly stirred, opening her eyes, gazing at Nicole, a smile forming. She went to get up, the motion of which made her retch, holding onto the edge of the bed not sure if she was about to throw up.