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

by Abby Ayles

  Joanna was sitting in the schoolroom with a book, reading quietly to pass the time before she would retire to sleep, when she heard the sounds of a carriage rolling into the grounds.

  She supposed it may have been a visitor for Lord Kelt which he had neglected to tell her about – which was perfectly alright, considering that she was only there for the children.

  She ignored the noise, and was thinking about going to her bedchamber after finishing the chapter she was reading.

  A clattering from the hall, however, drew her attention once more.

  When it was followed by a loud whoop, she could not contain her curiosity. Something did not feel right, and she swiftly moved out into the corridor to assess what was happening.

  Back in the main hall, she soon found the source of the noise.

  Christopher was there in his red uniform, laughing helplessly with an arm slung around the shoulders of another young man in the same colours.

  They appeared to be attempting to support one another in standing up, but even as she watched, the other man dropped to the floor and clattered against a large vase once again.

  “Second Lieutenant Hardwicke!” Joanna gasped out loud.

  That was enough to draw the attention of both men. They paused for a moment, and then Christopher dropped his friend’s arm to address her.

  “Ahhh, the lovely Miss Warrick!” he proclaimed loudly. “So delightful to see you again. Allow me to present my dear friend and fellow officer, Second Lieutenant Jasper Rivers.”

  Rivers began laughing again from his position on the floor, as if the whole matter was one irresistible joke.

  “Shh!” Joanna hushed them urgently, casting a glance up the staircase.

  This was not good. Edmund would be furious if he was woken up by his brother in such a state.

  The two men had clearly been at their spirits for some time, and the empty bottle still clasped in Rivers’ hand was a testament to the way their carriage journey must have gone.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Warrick,” the coach driver whispered.

  Joanna started; she had not even seen him lingering in the shadows near the open doors.

  “They insisted on coming in, and I couldn’t persuade them to retire.”

  “The night is still young!” Rivers exclaimed, rolling himself into a sitting position. “Surely you don’t expect us to retire when there is so much more fun to be had?”

  Joanna stared at them in dismay. All she could picture was the look of fury on Edmund’s face when he came down the stairs and found them. If they were not quietened down, it would only be a matter of time before he woke.

  She made a quick decision, looking to the coach driver for help.

  “Perhaps you could continue your fun in the sitting room, officers?” she said, hoping that her tone made it clear that it was a demand, not a suggestion.

  It took both herself and the coachman to corral the drunken soldiers into the sitting room, and further persuasion to convince them to at least sit down. Both of them claimed that the floor was rising to attack them at least once, leading to a suggestion that they might go to war against it; it was only the coach driver’s strong arm that prevented Christopher from drawing his sword and slashing away at it.

  “No, but you’ll stay with us, won’t you, Miss Warrick?” Christopher asked, reaching out and grasping hold of her arm as she walked by him.

  “I’ve to pay your driver,” Joanna said sharply, attempting to pull her hand away. “He must return to the town for his next fare. You had forgotten to give him anything.”

  “Oh, that,” Christopher said, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “Jasper, pay the man, won’t you?”

  Jasper mumbled something incomprehensible and thrust a hand into the air, containing a small leather pouch that jingled as it moved.

  Joanna took it from his hand and extracted the driver’s fare, slipping him an extra coin for the trouble he had taken.

  She had only finished seeing him off at the door when she heard a crashing noise coming from the sitting room, and had to rush back to see what had befallen them now.

  “Oh, Miss Warrick, excellent timing,” Christopher said, prompting a fresh round of laughter from Rivers. “We seem to be in need of your assistance.”

  A small side table loaded with a tea set, no doubt left behind by Edmund after the maid had already retired for the evening, had crashed over onto the ground, spilling everything.

  A teacup and saucer were both completely smashed, and the teapot was leaking its last dregs onto a fine rug.

  Joanna gasped and rushed forward to pick everything up quickly, as Christopher tried and failed to set the table back the right way up.

  “Please sit down, Second Lieutenant Hardwicke,” she said. “Please. Let me clear this up.”

  He fell down rather than sat down, next to his friend Rivers on the couch.

  “Don’t you think we should get more wine, Jasper?” Christopher moaned. “I do so feel that we should get more wine.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Joanna whirled around with her heart hammering in her chest, to see Patience standing in the doorway. She had drawn a thin robe on over her nightgown, though her hair was still twisted and tied up with rags.

  “Miss Patience,” Joanna said, hurrying over to her with the remains of the teacup in her hands. “You should go back to bed. Lord Kelt is not going to be pleased if he finds us all here.”

  “Christopher?” Patience exclaimed, clearly not listening at all. “You’re home!”

  “Yes, my little chicken, I’m home,” Christopher said, beaming and throwing his arms out towards her theatrically. “Come, give your big brother an embrace, a real welcome home.”

  Patience laughed and bounded over to squeeze him tightly, tucking her head under his chin as he patted her back.

  “And an embrace for your big brother’s best friend, too?” Rivers said, clearly eyeing Patience with a look that was not at all to Joanna’s liking.

  “Miss Patience,” she snapped, throwing all the might she could muster into the words. “Come away and sit down by the fireplace before you catch a cold.”

  Patience sighed and rolled her eyes, but she came.

  Just what she needed, Joanna thought, looking around the room in despair.

  She had wanted to send Patience back up the stairs, but it seemed a compromise was necessary even to ensure that she would partake in proper behaviour.

  Joanna lifted the table back into its proper position and deposited her handful of shards onto it, hurrying to pick up the teapot and the rest of the pieces of saucer before someone stepped on them.

  “We were just discussing the need for more wine, dear sister. Wouldn’t you like some?” Christopher said.

  “Miss Patience does not drink wine,” Joanna said, firmly, not even bothering to turn back to address them.

  “Is Miss Patience allowed to speak except through the medium of her governess?” Rivers asked, causing Christopher to fall about laughing again.

  “I think you officers may wish to be more concerned about how the pair of you will speak, if you wake Lord Kelt,” Joanna said. “You may find that you have more explaining to do than you are capable of, sirs.”

  “She has a tongue, this one,” Christopher said, with what almost sounded like admiration. “Does she address you this way in class, sister?”

  “I’m a good student,” Patience said, a little too primly. Rivers and Christopher guffawed together again.

  “Miss Patience, I really think you may be better placed in your bed,” Joanna said quietly, directing her comment to her charge alone.

  “But everyone’s having fun,” Patience pouted. “And Christopher won’t be home for long.”

  “You are correct, dear sister,” Christopher said. “In fact, you may be shocked to learn that this visit was not planned in itself. We simply found ourselves a short distance from here with no more wine left to drink. So, we came. Now, where is that wine?”r />
  Christopher lurched to his feet again and began to stagger around the room, unsteadily reaching for cabinet doors and making a generally poor job of searching the room.

  “We should have music with our wine,” Rivers said, waving his hands in the air as if to conduct an invisible orchestra.

  “Should I play something for you?” Patience asked eagerly.

  Joanna finished dusting her hands off above the table, everything now righted again, to catch a look on Patience’s face that was not at all good news.

  Following her gaze, she reassessed the Rivers fellow. His dark hair was long and tied at the nape of his neck, with a few strands working their way loose to hang about his face. He had a strong nose and full lips, and his eyes, now that Joanna looked closer, might well have been green.

  Of all the soldiers Christopher brought back to parade in front of his impressionable young sister, it had to be one that looked like that.

  “This is no time of night for music,” Joanna said, hastily. “It is an hour for sleeping. You will wake not only Lord Kelt, but your other siblings too. The young ones need their rest.”

  “Perhaps they might appreciate the chance to come and dance along with us,” Rivers said slyly. “I see there is a pianoforte in the corner. Are you able to play it, my lady?”

  “Of course I can,” Patience said happily.

  Both of them had ignored Joanna’s words entirely.

  “Wine!” Christopher exclaimed, finally brandishing a loft a bottle which he had found tucked inside a cabinet.

  “That is port, actually,” Joanna said, seeing the label.

  “And can you sing, too, beautiful one?” Rivers asked.

  “No, she cannot,” Joanna said automatically, precisely at the same time at which Patience said: “Yes, I can!”

  Christopher found his way back to the couch and settled himself again, working on dragging the cork out of the bottle of port.

  “Are you going to entertain us, dear sister? I should think you don’t know any of our army songs.”

  “You can teach me,” Patience beamed, already making her way to sit on the pianoforte stool. “I’m a fast learner.”

  “Absolutely not,” Joanna said.

  She had heard an army song once when visiting London with her father, as they passed a group of drunken soldiers spilling out of a public house. It had been a bawdy affair, and she was not at all willing to allow Patience to learn one on her watch.

  “Play something sweet, from my sweet sister,” Christopher suggested, finally getting the cork out and taking a swig directly from the bottle before passing it to Rivers.

  “Yes, I’m sure there is an angelic voice to match the angelic outside,” Rivers suggested, taking his own swig.

  Joanna wrung her hands. “Don’t touch those keys,” she said, running out of options. She could see no way to stop them if Patience did not listen.

  Patience gave her a wide, innocent smile, and then pressed her fingers down and began to play.

  Joanna felt quite light-headed.

  Lord Kelt was going to wake up, and there was not a single chance in the world that he was going to be happy about any of this.

  Chapter 13

  It was the distant sound of a pianoforte that first broke through his dreams.

  For a brief confusing moment, he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, fancying himself still at the ball and about to dance with Miss Warrick again.

  Then his eyes snapped open in the dark, and he knew that the sound was coming from within his own home.

  He saw that the sky was still dark outside of his window, but the pianoforte was playing all the same. The notes rang through the house, completely impossible to ignore.

  What could possibly be going on? Had someone gone mad?

  Edmund struggled out of bed and into a housecoat that hung over the back of a nearby chair, before wrenching his door open.

  In the corridor he came across Samuel, peering down over the bannister into the main hall. Behind him, Amy was wandering out of her room, rubbing her eyes and clutching a rag doll sleepily.

  “What’s happening?” Samuel asked.

  “Go back to bed,” Edmund said, reaching over to mess his hair as he passed. “Both of you. Don’t worry. The noise will stop soon.”

  “But…”

  “No buts, Samuel. Go to sleep,” Edmund threw over his shoulder as he jogged down the stairs.

  The sound was clearly coming from the sitting room; he could have guessed it already, since it was the only room in the house equipped with a pianoforte.

  It was supposed to be there only for Patience’s occasional lessons and for the entertainment of guests, which they did not have at this –

  Edmund pushed open the door, and saw the whole group of them in there, laughing and having fun.

  The noise of the pianoforte faltered and stopped as Patience looked up and caught his eyes. “Brother,” she began, quietly, but it soon lapsed into silence.

  She must have known there was nothing she could say that would make him less angry.

  “What is going on?” Edmund asked, into the sudden quiet of the previously-lively room.

  “We’re having a party, brother,” Christopher said, managing to rouse himself up from the sofa. He was holding an open bottle of port in one hand. “Would you like something to drink? Come and join us.”

  “You are drunk, Christopher,” Edmund said. “How disgraceful. What is your intention, in coming here and waking the whole household with this madness?”

  “I told you he was a miserable sort,” Christopher muttered to another soldier sitting beside him, who snickered in reply.

  “They came in a coach, my lord,” Miss Warrick said quietly. “I asked them to be quiet and retire to the guest rooms, but they would not.”

  “Miss Warrick,” Edmund said, shaking his head.

  He felt a cold rage towards her, a burning disappointment. “I expected better from you. Take Patience to her bed immediately.”

  “No!” Patience protested. “I’m having fun!”

  But Miss Warrick bowed her head meekly and said, “Yes, my lord.”

  She walked over to Patience and took her by the arm, and despite her protests, the girl did not resist.

  Edmund watched them leave the room, both of them with their faces cast down to the floor.

  This was a black mark that he had not expected on their governess’ character. She should have known better than to allow her charge to fraternise with an unknown gentleman, and in her nightclothes no less.

  To say nothing of this so-called ‘entertainment’, waking her younger siblings and scaring them in the deep of the night.

  There was a pang of hurt, too, at this disappointment. He would have to send Miss Warrick away now and find a replacement, just when he had been warming to her character.

  But a black mark like this was a stain. He could not trust her as a chaperone again if this was how she acted when his back was turned.

  It would be painful to see her go, and full of regret. But she had forced his hand.

  When the door closed behind them, Edmund turned back to his brother and the new interloper.

  “What on God’s earth do you think you are doing, Christopher?” he hissed furiously.

  “We’re just having fun, brother. Maybe you should relax. If you had any of it yourself, you might not be so angry all of the time.”

  “Angry?” Edmund repeated, hardly believing his ears. “I am angry at you, Christopher, because once again you play the fool and take nothing seriously. You woke Amy and Samuel. They were scared. Did you think nothing of them?”

  “You should have let them come down and dance to the music,” Christopher said, with a dreamy look in his eyes.

  Edmund seethed. “And who, pray tell, is this?”

  “Second Lieutenant Jasper Rivers at your service, sir,” Rivers said, saluting clumsily and nearly falling off the couch in the process.

  “You serve toge
ther, is that it?”

  “Trained together also,” Christopher pointed out.

  “And who is he? Outside of the army, have you a rank, Rivers?”

  “I’m a… a gent’man, m’lord,” Rivers slurred.

  “So, he is nothing but a lowly scoundrel,” Edmund scoffed. “No title. And you bring him into our home to ogle your poor sister in her nightclothes?”