by Abby Ayles
“Miss Warrick,” Amy said, quietly, while her siblings were engaged in reading their own books. “What will you do when we’re all growed up?”
“Grown up,” Joanna corrected her, half-absent-mindedly. “I shall perhaps have to find new employment. Though by the time you are grown, sweet little one, your sister may already have her first children, or Lord Kelt may be married with children of his own. In that case, I would hope that I may be allowed to remain and continue as governess here.”
“I hope that happens,” Amy said, dangling her legs in the space under her chair and swinging them backwards and forwards. She could not quite yet reach the ground. “Will you stay here forever?”
Joanna was taken aback, as always with this darling child. She always said the most loving and genuine things, that struck right home in Joanna’s heart.
But what followed after was a barb of sadness, because she knew that she could not say yes. “It is not up to me, Miss Amy,” she said softly. “It will be your brother’s decision, for the most part. If I am no longer wanted, then I will have to go.”
“I will always want you,” Amy declared in her matter-of-fact way. “So, you can stay.”
Joanna chuckled lightly. “Thank you, Miss,” she said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Talking of babies had reminded her that there was something else she needed to do.
She had still not spoken to Edmund about her sister’s pregnancy, and the idea of going to be by her side when the baby was due.
She had been half-afraid to ask it, since he had been so kind to her, particularly in not dismissing her when Rivers had first come to the house. She was grateful to him, and felt perhaps a self-flattering notion that he needed her, now.
If she went away, maybe she would prove that to be a lie.
Still, the question had to be asked; the turning of the skies would not wait, and if she did not ask soon, the baby would be arriving into the world without her presence.
As soon as she left the children for her luncheon and hurried from there to Edmund’s office, she made up her mind that she must ask – and today.
She paused outside his office door, remembering the nerves that had hammered her heart when she first waited outside of a door to meet him. Strangely, she felt much the same today.
What a difference the time had made – and yet no difference at all.
Joanna took a deep breath and opened the door before she could change her mind.
“Lord Kelt,” she said. “I’ve a request to make.”
“Hmm?” Edmund opened his eyes and looked at her.
For a second, they both just stared. Joanna felt her cheeks beginning to burn.
Edmund was nestled cosily in his padded armchair, and had evidently fallen asleep after eating luncheon. His hair was somewhat mussed with sleep, and his eyes barely opened. She had woken him.
“I’m sorry, my lord, I’ll come back later,” she said, hurriedly reaching for the door handle again.
“No,” Edmund said, stirring himself.
He rubbed his eyes, and she was reminded of how young he was. Even though he was a serious man, with many responsibilities heaped on his shoulders, he was only a few years her senior. She often forgot that that was the case.
“Wait. I’m awake. Come in. We should work.”
“I didn’t mean to…” Joanna began, fidgeting awkwardly in the doorway.
“Neither did I. You have done me a favour. I can’t sleep the afternoon away,” Edmund said, gesturing to the desk. “Come, really. Sit.”
Joanna took her customary place at the desk, her mind now only just catching up to what she had seen.
She thought of how restful Edmund had looked when she came in the door, almost angelic even, and was regretful that she had interrupted his sleep.
But he was insistent, and she could not refuse the request of her employer.
“I had something that I wanted to ask of you,” she said, hesitantly, not wanting to give up the intentions that had brought her to the room in the first place.
“Go ahead, Miss Warrick,” Edmund said nodding his head permissively.
“It’s about my sister, Lady Esther Castleford,” Joanna said. “I have received word from her of the most joyous news – she is with child.”
“Then congratulations are in order to her,” said Edmund. “I take it there is some purpose to your sharing this news with me, beyond wishing to spread good cheer?”
“Yes, sir,” Joanna said. “She has requested that, as her sister, I join by her side to help her through the childbirth. She is most anxious that I’d be there for her in what will be both a difficult and a wondrous time.”
Edmund inclined his head slowly. “So, you are requesting some leave of absence in order to visit her?”
“If you require my services and cannot allow me to go, then I shall stay,” said Joanna.
She wanted to make it clear that she understood her position here. She was an employee, and if he refused her request, that would be that.
But she fervently wished that he would give her the chance to support her sister. She waited, her heart pounding, to hear his verdict.
“How long until the baby is due?” Edmund asked.
“Only a couple of months,” said Joanna. “I feel I should have raised the matter sooner, but things have been so hectic here. I was not sure whether you would be in a position to let me go.”
Edmund thought the matter over for a moment, placing two of his long fingers across his lips. Then he gestured expansively with them, a small shrug.
“I see no reason why you cannot go,” he said. “You have done well in your work here, and if you feel that the children need supervision during the time you are away, I will bring in someone on a temporary basis.
“However, if we plan to put Samuel back in school in the autumn, then perhaps a short break first from studies will do him well.”
Joanna felt a rush of gratitude through her very cool. “Thank you, Lord Kelt,” she said.
She had not realised exactly how much she wanted to go until he granted her permission, and the words were spoken from the heart. Her gratitude was more genuine than perhaps it had ever been before.
“Nonsense,” said Edmund. “I would not hold you back from your family. Of anyone in our beautiful green countryside, perhaps our family is the one that understands the most exactly how valuable it is to spend time with those you love while they are with you.”
Joanna inclined her head sadly, giving a moment’s thought to both her own father and the parents of the Hardwicke household.
This sadness was a touchstone for both of them, it seemed, and barely a week would pass before one or the other of them referenced it in some way.
But this, she felt, was just one more matter in which she had a connection to her employer that made them well-suited to spending time with one another.
Anyone who had not suffered a loss such as theirs, she felt, might be less sympathetic to the sadness that ran like veins through the very flesh of their lives.
So, that was done – and the agreement was made. Joanna wrote Esther immediately, letting her know that she would be with her sooner rather than later. Edmund had granted her a full month away, if she needed to use it.
He did, however, express a heartfelt wish that there would be no complications with the childbirth, thus allowing Joanna to return sooner – and not, he hastened to assure her, because he was begrudging of the time.
Letters were greatly on Joanna’s mind that week, and perhaps that is why she was more attuned to notice when Patience was writing during class.
Normally, she might have assumed that the girl was just doing her work as instructed, and let her be. But, as she worked diligently with a studious Samuel on his advanced arithmetic, a small suspicion arose in her mind that Patience was writing something that looked suspiciously letter-like.
“What is that?” she asked, getting up from her place by Samuel and rounding the desk quickly
.
Patience tried to quickly put the paper away inside one of her books, but Joanna was there quicker.
She pulled the piece of paper quickly from the younger girl’s hand, despite her protests.
“That’s private,” Patience said.
Joanna completely ignored her, quickly scanning the words she had been writing.
It was clearly a letter, and more than that – a letter for a recipient that she should not have been corresponding with.
Dear Lieutenant Rivers,
I have been thinking of you since you were here with my brother. We had such fun together over those few days, and I wish they could be here again.
You were so dashing in your red uniform, I have been able to think of nothing else.
Please do tell me when you are next on leave, for I should very much like to see you again. Do you think you will come back to…
Joanna was shocked. “This letter is meant for Jasper Rivers,” she said, quite forgetting his title in the moment. She was beyond shocked – into anger already. “Have you been corresponding with him?”
“No,” Patience said.
Her face was flaming red, and she had a sulky look about her – as if she might alternately begin to cry or throw something across the room.
“I just wanted to write him something. I wasn’t really going to send it.”
“Then why did you write it?” Joanna demanded.
She stood over Patience, not allowing her to worm away. She ignored Samuel and Amy, who were both watching them with wide eyes.
“I just wanted to pretend. It was silliness, nothing more. I don’t even know where I should send it in order to reach him,” Patience said.
She tossed her hair defiantly back over her shoulders.
Joanna sat down in a chair close to her, putting the letter down on the table between them.
“This is extremely important, Miss Patience. Tell me the truth now. Are you corresponding with Lieutenant Rivers?”
“No, I told you,” Patience insisted. She looked away, her eyes sliding to the floor. “I was just… playing.”
Joanna hesitated, biting her lip.
She read the letter over again. There was nothing incriminating there – nothing that would point to an ongoing correspondence, or a real desire to meet.
“Do you promise me that was all this was?” Joanna asked. “Do you swear it?”
“Yes, I swear it,” Patience said, still not meeting her eyes. Her cheeks were flaming yet brighter, and she looked on the verge of tears now. “Don’t tell Edmund.”
Joanna weighed that in her mind.
She had a duty to tell Edmund, really, not only as Patience’s governess but as her appointed chaperone. She had warned him that something like this could happen, so he could hardly be surprised.
But Patience had been settling back into her lessons lately, and Joanna wanted no repeat of the incident in which she had refused to take her lessons.
Nor did she want her causing trouble, the kind of trouble that had led to countless governesses before her being dismissed.
In short, it was important for Patience to like her – both for her place in the household, and for her continuing enjoyment of her position.
It was a fine edge to walk along, between keeping Patience’s trust and keeping Edmund’s. Perhaps this truly was nothing, like the girl said.
Looking at the embarrassment on her face, Joanna wanted to believe it.
No, she did believe it. How many girlish fantasies had her and the sister gone through while they were the same age? If her mother and father knew of half the daydreams they had entertained, they would no doubt be shocked beyond measure.
And, indeed, Patience had no sister of her own age to speak to about these things. She had only little Amy, who was far too young to understand the same feelings and emotions that were growing for the first time in Patience’s breast.
She could go easy on her this time, couldn’t she? If it meant regaining her trust a little more, supporting her through a confusing time in her life?
Joanna looked at Patience carefully, and said, “I will keep this to myself. But you must promise me absolutely that you will not attempt to write to Lieutenant Rivers on your own. You must not engage with him, is that clear?”
Patience nodded, having the good grace to look thoroughly abashed.
Joanna decided that that would be enough. They need not take it any further, so long as nothing more happened.
She had no way of knowing that this would be a source of regret, before the month was out.
Chapter 19
When Christopher returned home for another short stay the next week, he had the good sense not to bring any friends with him this time.
He had no doubt got wind of the fact that his brother was more than annoyed with his behaviour, and saw the need to toe the line, at least for a short while.
Christopher never behaved well for long, but a short threat or a burst of anger was all that was needed to put him back in his place once more.
Edmund was suspicious about his reasons for even coming home this time.
What kind of entertainment did he expect to have? There was no ball to attend, no friends to spend his time with, and he certainly did not choose to engage in any kind of activities with Edmund.
Still, with no kind of evidence of anything untoward, Edmund had nothing to do but sit upon his suspicions and wait for Christopher to reveal himself.
He was walking through the house one morning, trying to find an item of his father’s that he must have misplaced, when he came upon Christopher standing at the window.
At first, Edmund did not approach him, wondering instead what he might have been looking at. Edmund stole into a neighbouring room, and looked down upon the same view.
Below the windows, a sunny day was unfolding upon the lawns of the family home. There were some stone benches arranged artfully on this outlook, where one might sit and look back at the house or towards the surrounding countryside, as one pleased.
Here, Joanna had gathered the children to take their morning lessons, giving them a taste of fresh air at the same time as their education.
Edmund watched them for a moment, wondering what Christopher might find interesting in this scene. A strange, gnawing suspicion was growing up on him now. It was one that he almost dared not act on, for fear that it might be true.
Could his brother have some kind of interest in their young governess?
The thought was instantly odious to him. Of course, Christopher have been known to chase after all kinds of women – duchesses, ladies, and even another servant that had once been with the family. His intentions were never good, and that was what worried Edmund.
Could it possibly be that he had some kind of affections towards Miss Warrick?
That couldn’t be. He couldn’t allow it to be.
Miss Warrick was the best governess they had ever had, without a doubt, and he could not have her corrupted by Christopher’s poor behaviour. It might end up thoroughly disturbing the children’s education, or even subjecting them to a scandal first-hand.
This, he told himself, was unacceptable. Something had to be done.
Edmund rounded the corridor, rushing into the room where he had seen Christopher and finding him in the same place at the window.
“What are you looking at?” he asked brusquely, although he already knew the answer.
“This fine, sunny day,” Christopher answered glibly. He turned a wide smile towards his brother.
“Do you not have any kind of industry with which to engage your time?” Edmund asked. “Something more useful than gazing at the sun?”
“I am on leave, dear brother,” Christopher said, spreading his arms expansively. “I am a man of leisure.”
Edmund snorted. “Perhaps you ought to take your leisure elsewhere, to some place where it cannot cause any damage.”
“Whatever can you mean by that?” Christopher asked, his eyes turning wid
e with innocence.
“You know very well what I mean,” Edmund said, gesturing towards the window. “Let’s not mince words. Christopher, I absolutely forbid it. Do you understand?”
“I fear I do not,” Christopher said, laying a hand delicately on his chest as if in shock.
The tone of merriment in his voice, however, suggested otherwise.
“You are only amusing yourself,” Edmund said darkly, joining him at the window and looking out at the group below them.
