The Gilded Cage - Accepting My Place

The Easter Eight

The main difference between being a nanny and being a big sister was love. Nanny Scott had the natural authority of her position in the family and a paddle, whereas Hermione the big sister had to rely on gentle persuasion and the deep feelings I shared with the girls. I loved them, and tried to show it in everything we did together, and they loved me, so when I had to ask them to do things that they did not want to do, they did it for me. Even Nicola. I let her get away with quite a lot, whenever I could, and in return, she behaved perfectly for me. Nurslings do not get a lot of leeway, generally. Nicola did not get away with anything a normal seventeen-year-old would not consider a basic right, but in our cloistered world, our gilded cage, little things meant a lot to a nursling. I let her help dress herself and put on her own shoes, when it was possible to do so. I fed her on my lap, but she would be holding the bottle. And when we could talk, I talked to her as a sister, not as her superior in any way. And on the Monday, when Helen came up and told the girls about Karen, giving as few details as possible, Nicola found out the whole truth from me as soon as I could talk to her, in hushed whispers. Her eyes boggled, but she kept the secret for me, because I had put all my trust in her. I thought that she deserved to know as much as I did because the others were much more accepting than we were.

But Karen did not arrive on the Monday. Helen did not know why, but I assumed that Karen and her mother were dealing with other things. The only additional information I did glean, at dinner with Mama and Papa, was that the debts Mr Davenport had left behind him, when he ran away with his bit on the side, were all in his wife's name. Apparently, she had been made a director of his businesses for tax purposes, or so he told her, and she had signed several pieces of paper which left her exposed to charges of fraud and a possible prison sentence. But Richard Ellesmere could make it all go away by paying off her creditors. In return, I assumed, he fully expected his sister and her daughter to do as he said, which in his eyes, Papa said, meant that the shame his sister had brought on his family would be erased, if they rejoined the community and lived strictly according to the doctrine. But then, late on the Tuesday morning before Good Friday, in the middle of the school holidays, Helen popped upstairs to the nursery where the girls were having a quiet play, and told Annie that Karen was on her way. So, we put the girls in the playpen, with pacifiers in place, with enough books and toys to keep them amused, and I sat on the sofa next to them, also silenced, which left Annie free to deal with any problems with Karen.

It felt so surreal to me. I had introduced all of my sisters to the nursery, and had a hand in a lot of other transformations on my visits to Charlesfield, but that was all before I experienced the shock of it for myself. I knew what was going to happen, and I knew why and how, whilst I did not like Karen much, but that did not mean that I did not feel sorry for her. Especially as her fate was obviously not her choice. I looked at Annie, who was still my nanny, who was in position at the top of the stairs, wearing her long grey skirt and Edwardian blouse, and she gave me a look that suggested she was feeling similar emotions. But she had agreed to do it, after I had gone to bed on the Sunday night, after what she would only say was a free and very frank exchange of views with Papa over a lot more wine. I hoped her bonus was massive. And then we all heard footsteps on the stairs, and I held my breath, not sure what to expect, although I assumed that Karen had already been under some sort of discipline since the Sunday afternoon as she had been living with her uncle and his family.

"Here we are, Nanny...this is Camilla Ellesmere...and isn't she a dear little thing?" Helen announced, a little uncertainly, and I glanced at Caris, whose eyes were as big as planets. Karen was holding hands with Helen, or rather Helen was clinging onto her, looking both terrified and angry, all at the same time. She was dressed as a nursling in a red tartan dress, and her hair was in bunches, with red tartan ribbons. There was a red pacifier in her mouth, and she looked about twelve, if I had to put a number on it. Not for the first time, I marveled at how appearances could deceive. She was dressed like a little girl, and so that was what I saw. That was what we all saw, a rather frightened little girl, struggling with her emotions. I thought about God at that moment and wondered what His plans really were.