Secret Dreams of a Fearless Governess: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Novel

by Abby Ayles

  Perhaps I should try to take charge on my own.

  It’s quite new still, being the lady of the house! I forget sometimes that I can order her about as I please. When she barks at me like a fearsome dog, I give in just like that.

  Tell me, Joanna, how can I be stronger about this?

  Well, I shall depart now and hope this letter reaches you safe and well.

  Do write me, Joanna, I am anxious to hear from you.

  Your ever-loving sister,

  Lady Esther Castleford

  Joanna read the words over and over again, a smile lingering on her face.

  It was so wonderful to hear from her sister, and to know that Esther had not changed despite the distance between them.

  Perhaps Joanna would never attend a ball as a lady again, or have to tend to her own household as a wife. But at least she could hear about it from Esther. That was enough, at least for the moment, to cheer her up.

  Still, it wasn’t as though she would never go to any ball – since she already had one coming up.

  Being a chaperone was likely to be a very different experience from being the young lady who needed one, but she would be able to watch others dancing in their beautiful gowns and see young romances forming.

  Joanna’s pulse quickened at the thought of it. The music, the dancing, the conversation – all of it was going to be so much fun. Even to just be near it rather than really part of it was something.

  And there was something else, too: she realised that she was looking forward to the prospect of spending more time in Edmund’s presence.

  Granted, she would not be there as his equal. But he had given her his trust in allowing her to chaperone Patience, and that was a real honour.

  Joanna settled down at the small table in her room and picked up a quill. She had bought some paper in order that she might write to Esther, having already expected to receive a missive from her soon.

  After a moment’s thought, she began to write.

  My dearest sister Esther,

  I am so glad to hear from you. I miss you terribly also, and Mama and Papa.

  It is quite different to be a member of a household, rather than a family. I wish often that I could see you all again, especially to spend more time with Papa.

  The children are such lovely creatures, and even bring me gifts to lend me some cheer.

  All the same, I do so hope to see my sister’s face again soon.

  Though please do not think that I am mistreated! Indeed, I am made to feel very welcome here. The children are wonderful.

  There is Miss Patience, who is sixteen years old and quite beautiful already. She is impatient to attend her first ball. More on that anon!

  Mr. Samuel is a delight, though he should be old enough to go off to school. The poor mite was struck with the same sickness that took his parents and has been left quite weak.

  I have hope, however, that his condition will improve. After all, he is a robust boy, and still struggles even daily to regain his strength. His character, I believe, will see him through it.

  My youngest charge is Miss Amy. She is such a darling, believe me, Esther. When I was feeling a little lonely, I was quite chagrined that she found me crying in the schoolroom. Me, supposed to be her strong governess!

  Well, she is such a pleasant child that she soon made me a doll from rags that I am to keep as my companion against loneliness.

  They are so well-learned already, I fear my job is perhaps the easiest it could possibly be.

  The Earl of Kelt is gone often on business, and when he does return home it is often late in the evening. I have taken to spending most of my evenings in the schoolroom. I do not wish to disturb him as he has such important work to undertake.

  But I shall be spending more time with him soon. I mentioned a ball earlier! Oh, Esther, I am to attend as the chaperone of Miss Patience. Lord Kelt wishes me to watch over her. He will be quite busy with his conversations and so I am required.

  I can hardly wait to be in the midst of society again, even if I know it will not be quite as before.

  Regarding your housekeeper, I think you should stand your ground with her. After all, Esther, you are the lady of the house – and don’t forget it!

  You ought to put her in her place. If she will not listen, why then you may as well go behind her and ask your other servants to follow your instructions only.

  I do wish I could see your puppy. He sounds like quite a charm. Yours sounds so much like a happy house that I am relieved for you, dear sister. I only have to think of your happiness and mine is quite assured.

  I may see about some time to visit you, though I fear Lord Kelt has no such plans to take a trip.

  Your loving and happy sister,

  Miss Joanna Warrick

  After checking over her letter, Joanna smiled to herself and sealed it into an envelope.

  How dull life would be if you could not converse by letter!

  She wrote her sister’s address on the front, thinking all the while of how long it would take for the message to arrive, and how long she might have to wait to read a response.

  Chapter 10

  The night of the ball seemed to approach interminably fast.

  Edmund could have wished for nothing more than to put it off forever, but no man could hold back time. Before he had time to gather himself, it was upon him.

  At least Christopher had given up on his insistence of attending. That was one thing less to concern himself about. The threat of the removal of his allowance was enough, it seemed, despite all of his bluster.

  The carriage stood ready to take them away to the Haverhams’ estate, and Edmund stood waiting in the cold air with his pocket watch.

  The time appeared to show correctly what he thought it did, but still he was missing two ladies who were supposed to be inside.

  “If they are any much later, I shall have you drive us away without them,” Edmund muttered to his driver, pacing back and forth in front of the carriage.

  He turned to walk back across his own path again and saw them at last coming out of the house.

  Patience was being hurried along by Joanna, though she kept trying to turn back and fuss with something.

  “Please, Miss Patience, your hair is perfect,” Joanna was insisting as they came closer. “You don’t want to miss the first dance, now, do you?”

  At that suggestion, Patience gave a squeal and began to move faster.

  They reached the carriage and scrambled inside with the driver’s help, Patience almost falling back with a yelp as one of her shoes caught on the step.

  “Onwards, then, man,” Edmund told the driver, helping himself up after them and closing the door in a rush. “I thought I was going to have to leave without you.”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t!” Patience exclaimed.

  She was still attempting to fuss with a strand of her hair. Joanna pulled her hands away from her neighbouring place on the seat and tucked it back in neatly.

  “There,” she said. “Now, stop touching it, or it will fall out again.”

  “You’ll fix it for me, won’t you?” Patience whined.

  “Of course,” Joanna smiled. “But try not to touch it all the same.”

  “I would have,” Edmund said. “I was getting impatient.”

  “Getting?” Patience said. She was talking too loudly, jumping in too quickly. The excitement was obviously overwhelming her. “You’re always impatient.”

  “Then you should know not to keep me waiting,” Edmund pointed out. “I’m surprised that Miss Warrick could not get you ready quicker.”

  “I do apologise, my lord,” Joanna said, bowing her head. “I tried, but there was a lot of preparation to be done.”

  Edmund made a noise and looked out of the window, leaving the women to chatter between themselves.

  Patience could not stop fiddling with this ribbon or that hem, and Joanna had a great deal of trouble stopping her from fussing with everything.

  He sn
uck his gaze back to observe them, watching as Joanna patiently took care of his younger sister.

  She was dressed, he was surprised to note, in a gown that was of fair quality. It suited her well, and was not so old that it appeared unfashionable. Even if he was not an expert on gowns, he could see that.

  In fact, with her hair done up and a light flush of excitement on her cheeks, she looked rather pretty.

  Edmund found himself staring at her, and when her gaze met his, he quickly looked back out of the window again. Instead of the scenery flashing by, however, he was looking at Miss Warrick’s reflection.

  The journey was too short, and again Edmund found himself wishing he could put the ball off forever.

  Watching Patience descend from the carriage as he held out his arm to help her, he observed her beauty and wondered if it was too late to take her back home.

  Perhaps the driver could escort her there. Anything, surely, would be better than having to parade her around inside.

  It was difficult to admit to himself, but Edmund really rather wished he could protect Patience indefinitely. If she were kept safely at home, she would never have to run into some bounder or cad who might break her heart – someone, he added to himself, not unlike Christopher.

  He led Patience into the house on his arm as Joanna followed behind, emerging into a well-lit entrance hall and from there into a bustling ballroom.

  The walls were painted a jaunty pastel yellow, and a string quartet were playing soft tunes as guests arrived.

  “Miss Patience Hardwicke,” the Master of Ceremonies announced, taking a number to pin to Patience’s gown.

  Edmund watched him, feeling quite out of sorts. Of course, there was no reason why this should be different to any of the other balls he had attended in his life. Somehow, though, seeing his sister announced like this made it a different matter altogether.

  “Oh, this is so exciting!” Patience exclaimed, as they walked in to stand amongst the other guests. All were standing around and conversing, waiting for the dancing to begin. “When do you think we will start?”

  “Very soon, I’m sure,” Joanna said, when Edmund did not make any answer. “We have to wait for the hostess, first. Lady Haverham will call the first dance.”

  “Ah, Lord Kelt!” A voice came from behind them. “I thought I might meet you here. My wife, Lady Kelverley.”

  “Lord Kelverley,” Edmund acknowledged, turning with a sinking feeling. It was just his luck that this odious man would be in attendance.

  “Lady Kelverley. My sister, Miss Patience Hardwicke, and her governess, Miss Warrick.”

  “Charmed,” Lady Kelverley put in.

  She was approaching elderly, with her hair done up in a more old-fashioned style. She wore a dark gown, quite different to the light colours of the young ladies around her.

  “Yes, what a lovely party you make,” Lord Kelverley said. “Say, Edmund, I wondered if you had any news on the China ship.”

  Edmund gritted his teeth. Well, he had wanted to come here to talk business. So be it.

  “Indeed, we’re still waiting for news from the journey. The Captain had assured me that we would hear next week, and not before.”

  “Ah yes, a long journey I suppose,” Kelverley blustered. “What predictions have you on the stock? Any thoughts yet?”

  Edmund resisted the urge to sigh. It might be a long night. “As I say, we’ll likely know more next week.”

  The hostess, Lady Haverham, was calling the room to attention. Edmund saw Patience and Joanna turn to listen out of the corner of his eye, but Kelverley was not done.

  “Now, what about the African matter? Lord Winsor heard rumours of something amiss. Tell me, is it dealt with? I should like to know if things are not going well.”

  “Believe me, the matter is in hand,” Edmund said.

  Why were these old men always doubting him? He had the experience and the knowledge – and he worked hard. Of course everything was under control.

  “I don’t know where Lord Winsor gets his information, but it is incorrect. Perhaps you should advise him not to listen to the gossip of charlatans.”

  As he turned, Edmund felt great alarm to see Patience being led away by a young man with the red hair of a Haverham.

  He was about to start forward in protest, but Joanna stepped to his side.

  “Lord Edward Haverham,” she said quietly. “Third son. He asked to accompany Patience on her first dance, very politely too. I shall keep a watch on them. I have heard that Lord Edward’s reputation is good. We should not be too concerned about him having wicked intentions.”

  Edmund looked down to see that Joanna was only partially mocking him. She wore a gentle smile, and with another glance at Patience, Edmund knew he had no reason to object.

  He sighed, nodded, and watched her go into position.

  “Not ready to let go of her just yet, Lord Kelt, eh?” Kelverley said, laughing. “She will have a grand old time. Young ladies like that think of nothing but dancing.”

  Edmund nodded, trying not to take offense with Kelverley’s tone or the way he had read him so clearly.

  He told himself that Joanna was watching, but still he could not help but glance over at Patience every few moments to be sure that there were no signs of improper conduct. All the while as Kelverley prattled on about Africa this and India that, Edmund was only half-listening.

  He was thankful that Kelverley only required half an ear. The old man was complaining his same old complaints, and worrying in his usual way over the outcome of trade deals and shipments that would not be known until weeks or months in the future.

  Even so, Edmund was forced to acknowledge that he might not have been the best conversational partner when he found he was expected to answer a question without having heard what it was.

  “Hmm,” he said, enigmatically, hoping that would suffice.

  Thankfully it seemed to, as Kelverley launched on into a diatribe about the reliability of Welsh sailors.

  Edmund realised that he was clenching and unclenching his fists and tried hard to relax. Each time that he looked over at Patience, he was almost angered to see her smiling.

  Who was this boy, to pay her compliments and tell her witty jokes that made her laugh so?

  At least half a dozen times, he wanted to go over and interrupt them, and pull Patience away.

  At last, the long minuet was over, along with the torture that went with it. Edmund felt he could breathe again at last as Patience returned to his side, a little out of breath and flushed with happiness.

  He was able to disentangle himself from Kelverley before the next dance began. Edmund turned, thinking that he would quiz Patience on her dance partner and his propriety, but the girl was already gone again.

  He saw her being led away by a slim lad with dark hair, who must have been only eighteen or nineteen himself.

  “Eldest son of Lord Winsom,” Joanna supplied, predicting his need for information once more. “They will take just one dance together. I believe the boy is being pressured into dancing with as many ladies as possible by his mother, who looks rather formidable.”

  “Winsom,” Edmund repeated, looking around the rest of the guests. “Pray, where’s the boy’s father?”

  “Over by the carriage clock, there on the table,” Joanna said, discreetly inclining her head towards the other side of the room.

  “I need to speak with this man,” Edmund said, but then hesitated, looking over at Patience.

  “Go,” Joanna told him. “I’ll watch over Miss Patience, my lord. I won’t take my eyes off her.”

  Edmund nodded sharply, and strode around the side of the dancers until he reached Lord Winsom.

  There, he was forced to wait for the man to finish his conversation with a portly gentleman who had lost all hair but the heavy grey whiskers and sideburns on his head.

  “Lord Kelt, isn’t it?” Winsom said, turning at last as if recognising and greeting an old friend from years ago. “Fine
ball, don’t you think?”

  “Quite,” Edmund said, looking up and watching the dancers again. “It seems your boy is dancing with my sister.”

  “Ah, yes,” Winsom said, watching them for a moment himself before turning his back on the scene. “They cut a fine figure.”

  Edmund watched them, then glanced over towards Joanna.

  This was no good. Now he had both of them to keep an eye on. “Lord Kelverley tells me you have been listening to rumours about the African matter,” he said, trying to keep himself on track.