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

by Abby Ayles

  Now things were beginning to fall together in front of her eyes. Joanna sunk into a waiting chair, surveying the empty room and thinking about what she knew.

  Patience was gone. Christopher was gone. And it was the night of the ball that Edmund had decided none of them would visit.

  Now it all made sense.

  Christopher must have taken Patience to the ball, against Edmund’s wishes and without his knowledge.

  What should she do?

  Joanna sat with her mind racing, trying to see the best way forward.

  If she woke Edmund and told him what had happened, he would be furious. There would be another big row with Christopher for certain, and both of them would be punished in some way.

  Patience, she knew, would not see that Joanna was only doing her duty. No; the girl was headstrong and proud, and she always wanted her own way. That meant that if she found out Joanna had raised the alarm, she would never forgive her. She would be surly again and refuse to listen or take part in lessons.

  Taking the scenario to its logical conclusion, Joanna could see only one outcome.

  Edmund would dismiss her if she was not able to perform her duties as governess correctly. He only allowed her to stay because the children liked her so much, and he had already made it clear that another failure would not be tolerated.

  But what if he found out that Patience was missing, and that Joanna had known? Would she not then be in even more trouble? She imagined that he would dismiss her on the spot, and she would be forced to pack her bags and be on the next coach. Perhaps he would not even allow her to say goodbye.

  The situation was impossible! No matter where she turned, it seemed that the only outcome would be that she lost her position and was cast out into the world again. She would have nowhere to go, and she desperately did not want to lose her place here. She was so fond of the household, and she wanted nothing more than to stay with them.

  There was but one option that left her with her position intact. That was if Patience and Christopher returned without raising the alarm, and Edmund never found out that they had gone.

  Of course, it risked much. It required the missing siblings to return under cover of darkness and absolute silence, so as not to wake Edmund or any of the other servants. It required them to keep the secret, without throwing it Edmund’s face one day when they rowed again.

  And there was also another face to it that was particularly pertinent to Joanna.

  That was that she was remiss in her duties if she did not look after Patience. Having the girl off in society without her true guardian, or the chaperone that said guardian had appointed, risked her coming in for some scandal.

  And there was yet the possibility that the news would reach Edmund some other way – through the mouths of those who had also attended the ball and seen Patience there.

  Joanna sat, toying with the blue ribbons that she had pulled down out of her hair, twisting them between her fingers. She felt completely a-flutter, with both her mind and her stomach tied in knots.

  What should she do? There seemed no possible outcome that was good on all counts.

  It was very late, and past time that she should have raised the alarm already. By now, Edmund might indeed wonder if she had waited on purpose to give Patience some time to enjoy herself.

  Oh, it was all coming unravelled! How she wished that she had a crystal ball or some other instrument of magic, that she might be able to look into the air and see that Patience was well!

  Joanna waited, heavy with indecisiveness. She could not sit any longer, and began pacing across the floor. She was well aware that she should not be in Christopher’s room, had no right or reason to be there, but now she also feared slipping out into the corridor and having someone else see her there.

  The sound of hoofbeats and the grating of wheels on the driveway led her to the window. There, under the light of the moon, she saw a carriage approaching. It was pulled by two horses, a smaller affair with less space than the family carriage.

  She knew it on sight: it was the vehicle that Christopher had been using to make his visits.

  Joanna gathered her skirts and rushed down the stairs as quickly as she could without raising any noise.

  She had just arrived at the front door and flung it wide open when the carriage pulled up outside, the horses blowing and snorting.

  Christopher stepped out of the carriage first when the coachman, who gave Joanna an apologetic look, went to open the door on the side of the vehicle. He turned then and offered a hand to Patience, helping her step down daintily.

  “Where have you been?” Joanna hissed quietly, stepping over to them, even though she full well knew the answer.

  “Ah, Miss Warrick,” Christopher said, smiling gaily. “Don’t be alarmed. We’ve had quite the fabulous evening.”

  “We went dancing,” Patience laughed. “I’m not surprised you are jealous to not have been invited.”

  “Shh!” Joanna cautioned them, glancing back towards the house. “Speak quietly, or you will wake Lord Kelt. Lieutenant, I have been beside myself with worry. How could you take Miss Patience out to the ball in secret, against our Lord’s wishes?”

  Christopher laughed, though quietly. “Do not fret, little Miss Warrick,” he said, smiling and linking his arm through hers as if he were escorting her on a country walk. “It was a masquerade ball. Miss Patience and I both wore masks. No one even knows we were there.”

  Joanna’s anger faltered. Could it really be true? If this was a saving grace, a way that she would not have to lose her position, then she would grasp it with both hands – as a dying man, an anchor.

  “You are sure that no one saw you?”

  “Quite sure, Miss,” Christopher said. “And, see: I even persuaded a friend to lend Patience a gown so that she would not be recognised by the fabric. I will hide it in my carriage again tomorrow and return it post haste. I was at her side all night and chaperoned her to your own high standards, I assure you.”

  Joanna allowed herself to relax a smidgeon. “Lord Kelt will never find out?” she asked, needing still that last little piece of reassurance.

  “Never,” Christopher said, turning to face her earnestly. “Especially not, my dear Miss, if you take Patience up to her room now and have her tucked safely into bed. Will you do that for me?”

  Joanna nodded dumbly, taking Patience by the arm to hurry her inside the house.

  She did not like the idea of deceiving Edmund one bit, but if it was the only thing that would allow her to stay, then so be it. She would keep her silence.

  Chapter 21

  Life at the Hardwicke manor had become sweeter, somehow, even with the injury to Edmund’s arm.

  Spending more time at home was doing him good, and he was happy to see more of his family. Miss Warrick’s help, too, had become an invaluable resource.

  He had found himself restrained on more than one occasion from the harsh words he would normally have reserved for the mistakes she made from time to time. He had to remind himself that Miss Warrick was not a trained secretary, nor a hired one.

  Edmund tried to be a fair man and a level-headed employer, though he did not always succeed. At times, when his arm caused him pain and the work was urgent, he could snap at her more harshly than he had intended.

  “Forgive me, my lord,” she would say immediately each time, ducking her head and fetching a new sheet of paper to correct her mistakes. “I will endeavour not to let this happen again.”

  Then he would soften inevitably and feel a heaviness in his heart for having scolded her. “Your work otherwise is good, Miss Warrick,” he would tell her. “I thank you for your efforts. Let us begin this letter again.”

  As the evening came, they found themselves working later and later. Finally, even though it was time to break for dinner, they reached a point where all the work was not done. Being away from the office, and unable to address matters in person that should have required but a brief conversation, was leavi
ng Edmund far behind on the management of the company.

  “Miss Warrick,” he suggested, hearing bells ring downstairs to summon him to his dinner, “I wonder if we might return here after we both have dined. I do not wish to keep you awake late into the night, but these duties do seem to increase each week. Will you return and write a few letters more?”

  “Of course, my lord,” Joanna nodded, giving him a brief smile as they left the room behind.

  He was never entirely convinced of whether she was very eager to do her work, or whether she was simply good at pretending that she enjoyed following the orders he gave. For, after all, she had not much choice but to follow them.

  It was around this time that a change came over them, a new circumstance which had not before been the norm.

  One late night after dinner, Edmund found himself sleepier than he had supposed. He had been hardly able to rest the night before, having spent so much time thinking about the letters that still needed to be addressed and wondering about the fate of the company’s ship from Africa. It had not docked as expected, and was now over a week late. There was always some worry like this with his trade, that a ship and its cargo would be lost at great expense.

  So, as their arrangement of continuing to work after dinner was new, and as Edmund had much fatigue, he forgot to think about Miss Warrick waiting for him in his small office. After dinner, he simply retired to bed, putting himself under the covers and letting his eyes fall closed.

  It was only a light slumber that he managed, however, for he woke up quite suddenly a short while later when the door to his chamber swung open.

  It was not clear what it was that induced Edmund to keep his eyes closed and feign sleep even when he was wide awake. It was a small suspicion, perhaps, on the part of his subconscious mind that Christopher might sneak in whilst searching for money.

  There was a small “Oh,” and then he knew that it was Miss Warrick that had entered the room.

  Since he was already awake, and the situation was now quite an awkward one, he could think of no way to feign his awakening that would not be awful for them both. Thus, he kept his eyes closed, and tried to regulate his breathing to an even and calm pattern.

  He had expected that Miss Warrick would close the door and leave quite shortly, as she would no doubt be flustered to have come upon him in this way.

  He knew well what the mishap had been: on waiting for him in his office, she perhaps imagined that he was reading or collecting his thoughts in his chamber instead. Perhaps she even intuited that he had quite forgotten. Expecting him to be awake, she had quite naturally come in, never imagining that he would be sleeping.

  But there was a long time, an interminably long time it seemed, in which he heard nothing.

  Then at last her light footsteps tapped their way towards the door and closed it.

  It was sheer fortune that he did not commence the embarrassment again right away, for his instinct had been to shift his position and even open his eyes. But he did not do so immediately, and this gave him the chance to hear what came next before he reacted.

  For Miss Warrick was still in the room, as he knew from the gentle steps that padded over somewhere close to his bureau.

  There was a small, quiet creak from the chair that rested in front of it, and then nothing for a long while again.

  She was sitting there, he knew, at his bureau, and watching him. Even without his eyes open, Edmund could feel her gaze lying heavy on him.

  It was not quite so unwelcome as he would have supposed, however. Rather it was like the weight of a warm blanket, placed over you with care.

  Why did Edmund not at least feign waking, or attempt to stir so that she would be alerted and leave the room? Why did he not chase her away? It was not quite proper for her to stay, and yet there was something that kept him still and quiet.

  It was, after all, a warm feeling to have someone watching over you. He had not experienced this since his days as a boy, when his mother would do the same.

  But could it truly just be a gratitude at the idea of having someone mind his dreams for him that kept him quiet?

  Could it truly be only that which made him fail to mention it the next morning, when he woke to find the room empty and Miss Warrick retired?

  Was it truly only that which made him feign sleep again the next night when she crept in after their work was done? Or the next? Or the next?

  Whatever his inner reasons, Edmund kept up the pretence. And from that night, Miss Warrick was by his side as he slept, with all the calming presence of a guardian angel.

  Chapter 22

  “Miss Warrick,” Jenkins said, holding out an envelope with a frown wrinkling his elderly face. “There is some correspondence for you. It was marked urgent.”

  Joanna took the letter from him, concern washing over her like a flood.

  It was not unusual for her to receive messages from her sister, of course, but urgent mailings were a new thing entirely. She had never in her life recalled an occasion when a letter for her would have been marked as urgent.

  She tore open the envelope there in the corridor, not wanting to stand on ceremony or retire to privacy when such worry filled her mind. Surely, she thought, it could only be bad news!

  Miss Joanna Warrick,

  I am writing you on your sister’s behalf. There has been some difficulty and her child appears to be coming now. I know you had arranged to visit us in some two months, when we believed it would come into the world, but we beg you for Esther’s sake to come as soon as you can.

  Yours,

  Lord Castleford

  Joanna read the letter over three times, trying to find the trick or the joke that would reveal itself to her.

  Surely, this letter was not to be taken in all seriousness? Surely, Esther could not be giving birth to her child two months early?

  Joanna sank into a chair in the hall, fearing that her legs would no longer hold her up.

  “Are you quite well, Miss Warrick?” Jenkins asked.

  Joanna found that she could not quite gather the strength to reply.

  Mary was passing by them with a broom, fresh from sweeping some area of the house. “What’s going on? Miss Warrick, you look mighty pale,” she said.

  “Not now, Mary,” Jenkins said, shooing her away. “I fear she has received some bad news. Return to your duties, now, there’s no time for idle gossip.”

  Joanna was grateful for his interference, but the shock was beginning to wear off. “It’s about my sister,” she said.

  “Ah,” Jenkins replied, moving to sit beside her. “Lady Castleford was with child, was she not?”

  Joanna nodded dimly. She stared at the paper again, as if there was a chance that it might have a different message this time.

  “They say that she has gone into labour. It is two months early.”

  Jenkins nodded seriously. “You plan to request leave from Lord Kelt?” he asked.

  “I must go,” Joanna said. “I will likely miss the birth, but I must go all the same. The family will need me. Either as an aid to Esther while she becomes accustomed to life as a mother, or…”

  “Or to attend the funeral,” Jenkins replied, with an apologetic look. “This is much to lay on your shoulders, Miss Warrick. Allow me to petition Lord Kelt on your behalf. I have little doubt that he will allow you to go, even if it is earlier than planned. You should go to your chamber and prepare yourself for the journey. I shall have the carriage readied for you.”

  Joanna stood, unsteady on her feet but imbued with a sense of purpose now that he had directed her what to do.

  “Thank you, Jenkins,” she hurried out as she made her way up the stairs.

  When she was done packing the small belongings she had into a case, and had changed into a dress more suitable for travelling, Joanna returned to the main hall.

  There, she found not just Jenkins but also Edmund waiting for her, to her surprise.

  “Miss Warrick,” Edmund said. “Jenkins
has given me the details of your situation. I give you leave to go. I understand how important it is that you be with your sister at this time.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Joanna said, dipping her head.

  It was partially an act of deference, and partly an attempt to hide the tears that were swimming in her eyes.

  “Will you be able to complete your work? I am dreadfully sorry that I cannot continue to take down your correspondence for you while I am away.”

  “I will manage just fine,” Edmund assured her warmly. “Give our thoughts to your sister. I sincerely wish that you will find both her and the baby in good health when you arrive.”