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

by Abby Ayles

  “Christopher said that Miss Warrick is a woman and has ears for the family. Then, um… she is apart from it and has good hands and good scent. And he in-ends to ask her hand for a marriage.”

  Edmund filtered Amy’s report through his mind, trying to make sense of what she had heard and what must really have been said.

  “I see,” he replied. “And what did Miss Warrick say?”

  “She said nothing,” Amy replied. “Maybe she was crying and happy.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I came outside but I was sad. So I came to see you. They are all playing crickets.”

  Edmund turned this over again.

  So, Miss Warrick had accepted the proposal and then gone out to join Christopher in a game of cricket?

  He supposed they must both be very happy.

  Amy was already wiggling free of his grasp and dropping to the floor, from where she strode purposefully for the door.

  “Where are you going, Amy?” he asked.

  “Crickets,” Amy declared, vanishing into the corridor.

  Left alone, Edmund sunk back against the support of his chair and mulled it all over.

  The idea of Miss Warrick accepting a marriage proposal from Christopher somehow made him want to snatch up the inkwell from his desk and dash it against the wall.

  He did not, for it would have been nigh on impossible to clean up, and besides, the inkwell had been his father’s.

  There was nothing quite else that would have allowed him to express precisely how he felt at that moment.

  So, it seemed that his warning to Christopher had been taken as a personal challenge after all. Damn the boy! Had he even real feelings for Miss Warrick, or was it all part of his endless game?

  And hadn’t Edmund predicted this even when Miss Warrick first arrived? She was pretty and slight, and cultured despite her fallen status.

  Of course she would have been attractive to Christopher. It was those same qualities that had attracted himself.

  But Christopher was a cad, a scoundrel. Edmund doubted that he had ever even felt the true stirrings of love, but only played with hearts as in a game that he enjoyed thoroughly.

  Could it be possible that he would toy with Miss Warrick so? Oh, but Edmund would skin him alive!

  He rose and walked to his window, looking down into the grounds and finding Samuel and Christopher practicing their cricket technique while Patience and Amy looked on.

  “Throw it faster!” Samuel shouted, wielding his bat with fierce determination.

  Edmund had to close his eyes and back away. Was it all really coming undone like this?

  He thought back to all of the help that Miss Warrick had been, all of the times she had stepped into the breach when he needed assistance.

  She had been patient and kind to the children, useful and efficient as his secretary, and charming in every conversation. She was prettier in a plain dress than any woman he had ever seen in fripperies at a ball, and she watched over him with a grace that warmed his very soul.

  For some time, he had known – even if he had never admitted it to himself – that his affections for her were growing. He had called it attachment when he thought of it at all, but perhaps a more accurate term would have been love.

  He thought of losing all of that warmth from his home, from his very life, and it squeezed on his heart like a tight fist.

  Edmund sat down at his desk and took out his quill, and a fresh piece of parchment.

  With regret and pain lacing his features, he laboriously wrote out a notice of how much money he would afford Christopher and his new wife per year to ensure their comfort. It was the right thing to do, after all.

  As soon as they came clean and announced their betrothal, he would share with them the news.

  He placed the paper away in a drawer of his desk, no longer wishing to look at it.

  How long did he have before they would come to him, breathless with excitement, to tell him all? Perhaps no more than a few hours, at the longest. Only that amount of time in which he could still harbour denial.

  Edmund reached for a bottle of whisky that was kept inside a secret drawer of the desk, and poured himself one small glass. A stiff drink would help him to keep his composure, he reasoned. He was going to need it in order to look Christopher in the eye and pretend to be pleased.

  One thing was abundantly clear, and that was that things would have to change immediately.

  He could not bear to let them continue as they were, not knowing it would all soon be over anyway. Miss Warrick would have to be governess only, and remove herself from his side.

  Edmund sat in his study and waited, and though Christopher did not come to him at all that day, he thought he detected a hint of merriment in his eyes when they finally sat down to dine.

  Christopher had a secret, and it seemed that he was going to have his fun with it before he revealed all.

  Fine, then; let him have it his way. Edmund would wait, and not let on that he already knew. The boy could have his fun. What did it matter, anyway?

  Chapter 30

  Joanna was relieved to be free of Christopher’s gaze once he had gone to play with the children, and yet more relieved still when the family were called to dinner.

  She could avoid him easily for the rest of the night, which would give her time to recover somewhat from her embarrassment.

  She retired to her chamber earlier than usual, wanting no risk of a chance encounter in the corridors should she linger for longer. Despite the fact that they had left things in an amiable fashion, she was uneasy at the thought of it all.

  It had been a queer proposal, and their conversation had been out of place. Returning to the role of servant and master required some time and distance.

  Her great consolation and joy was the fact that a letter had arrived from Esther, and hearing from her sister was enough to put a smile back onto her face. All the more so, since she knew now that there was something she had to share in return.

  Though she would not tell another soul about Christopher’s offer, her sister was removed enough from the situation and a trusted confidante.

  Still, first there was the matter of reading what her sister had to say.

  Joanna tore open the envelope excitedly, reading her sister’s familiar hand with a greed for news.

  Dearest Joanna,

  Oh, my dear, I know I should write to you in response to your last letter. There are many questions and things to discuss. But I hope you will afford me some leave to give you my reply to those matters another time, for I have an important item of news to impart!

  I can barely contain my excitement, and I know that you will feel the same for me.

  Joanna, it is the best, the most wonderful news. I am with child again!

  Charles is still requiring my attention most of the time, but I hope that we shall be able to give him a younger sister.

  I know from my own experience that a sister is the most precious thing in the world to have, so I hope that I can give that to him.

  If I do – well – I should not hint – but I think I have already chosen a name!

  My lord Castleford is so beside himself with happiness. We shall grow our brood most readily, as we both dote on Charles so that I think we should both like to have a great deal more.

  We shall fill our hall here with laughing faces and tiny feet.

  Oh, Joanna! Eight months more before I can bring into the world another babe to join our family. You were such a comfort to me before, so I hope you can join me again. This time I hope our little one will wait until the appointed time! The midwife tells me that it gets easier with each one.

  I shall end here as I must write next to Mama – but I send you my love, Joanna, and ask you to pray for my child!

  Ask God to bless us with a girl in due time!

  All my love and affection,

  Lady Esther Castleford

  Joanna read the letter over again with a growing sense of dismay
.

  Yes, it was a wonderful piece of news that Esther should be able to grow her family, but Joanna feared for her health. The last birth had been so sudden and difficult, with much risk to both mother and baby.

  Was there not equal risk that the same would take place again?

  Joanna paced her room, wringing her hands. This was a dilemma indeed.

  She wished that her sister would be safer, more careful. It should not have been thought of to try for a child so soon again, with Charles still but a babe in arms and Esther only just recovered from the ordeal she endured with him.

  But what was she to do? The deed was done. Esther was with child. Such a condition could not be reversed.

  And beyond that, Esther was a wife now – a lady. It was her duty, expected of her, to bear her lord many children and raise them in health and happiness. There had to be an heir to their title and lands, and more to distinguish their family further and gain connections with others.

  It was the way things were done, and that was that. Even if Joanna worried terribly for her, there was nothing to be done about it.

  Esther was happy, and she supposed that, for that reason, she ought to be happy too.

  That thought played on her mind, and it was not without some reluctance that she turned to address it.

  Sitting down on her bed with the letter safely tucked away in her desk, Joanna took out the blue ribbons that Christopher had bought her and twisted and turned them in her hands.

  The fabric was innocuous, a little nothing… Yet it held a deeper meaning, belied by its appearance.

  It represented his feelings, or at least his supposed feelings. It was a measure of his intentions to propose, surely a signpost that he had intended to show that he was courting her.

  Joanna had dismissed it out of hand at the time, but it must have been his plan all along. She thought of the tales she had overheard of Christopher buying jewellery and gems for other women, and smiled to herself self-deprecatingly. She supposed he thought she was beneath such gifts.

  Trinkets, anyway, that she would have felt honour-bound to return even if he had offered them. It would not have been appropriate to keep them after having refused his proposal in such a way.

  And was she mad, to have done so?

  Joanna stood and paced again, unable to keep still. The thought of Esther growing her family by another head already, with Joanna still unwed and unlikely to be so, made her miserably jealous.

  She wanted children of her own, too, and a husband to please. Perhaps for the first time, Joanna allowed herself to acknowledge this fact: she desperately wanted to be married, and yet it was not something likely to ever happen for her now.

  Not especially after she had turned down the hand of an Earl’s second son, all out of pride and misplaced affection for his brother.

  Oh, what a fool she must be! Should she go and tell him that she had changed her mind?

  No, but it was too late. They had spoken frankly, and Christopher had even admitted that he was not badly wounded by her refusal. To try and accept it now would only offer her shame, and perhaps his cruel laughter in her face.

  Joanna sat down again on the bed, and even curled under the covers, trying to convince herself to sleep. How would it be if she were too tired to rise and do her duties in the morning?

  The children needed her.

  Yes, the children. That was a thought that gave her comfort. Even if she was not to have children of her own, she at least had these charges under her wing. They were beautiful children, a joy to teach, and that was more than many women could hope for.

  While Patience was still a little standoffish, lost in her own world and halfway to being a woman already, it was different with Amy and Samuel. They were almost children of her own, lost without a mother and father as they were.

  The door to Joanna’s chamber creaked open then, and she sat bolt upright, out of shock and fear.

  Who could it be at this late hour? Was it Christopher, that scoundrel, seeking to bring dishonour on her head by appearing in her room at such an inappropriate hour for the sole cause of irritating his brother?

  But no. A small head peered around the door, and Joanna recognised Amy’s soft curls. She let out a sigh of relief.

  “Miss Amy?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet so as not to cause any disturbance to others asleep down the corridor. “What is it?”

  Amy studiously entered the room and closed the door behind her, affecting a silent care that let it click shut with a quiet noise only. Then she tiptoed across the wooden floorboards, raising her legs high into the air to avoid making a sound.

  “Miss Warrick,” Amy whispered loudly, as soon as she was close by the bed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “And you shan’t sleep wandering around the house like this,” Joanna admonished her. “Why did you come to me?”

  “I want to sleep with you,” Amy said, indicating the patchwork quilt across the bed.

  “What’s wrong with sleeping in your own room?” Joanna asked, trying to be gentle even while persuading her to go back to bed.

  Amy made a face. “It’s cold,” she whispered.

  Joanna paused for a moment. She wanted to ensure that Amy would sleep, but it was unorthodox for her to sleep in the room of a servant. She ought to have been with her sister, if anything.

  “What of Miss Patience?” Joanna whispered. “She might keep you warm.”

  “Patience snores,” Amy said, so matter-of-factly that Joanna had to stifle a laugh.

  At last, she had no recourse.

  “Climb in, then,” she said, shuffling backwards and patting the empty space on the mattress.

  Amy used her knees to heft herself up onto the bed, and she had soon wriggled herself into a comfortable position that somehow took up most of the available space. Joanna bit her lip to keep herself from laughing again.

  “Miss Warrick, will you stay with us?” Amy asked.

  Joanna frowned. “Of course I will stay with you,” she said. “What’s brought this on?”

  “I just wondered,” Amy said, sighing and nestling down closer into the blankets. “It’s too bright.”

  Joanna took the hint and leaned over to blow out the candle beside her bed.

  She lay down again, and felt the little body of her young charge moving to snug against her for warmth.

  “Night-night, Miss Warrick,” Amy said sleepily, her words already muffled and obscured by the blanket.

  “Night-night,” Joanna whispered, listening for Amy’s breathing shallowing out as she fell asleep.

  She lay awake for some time longer, considering her situation and all the angles of it.

  All things taken into account, she decided that she was a lucky woman. She had a home, a roof over her head – and a grand one, at that.

  She had found a family who liked and respected her even on her first assignment as a governess, and she loved the children as if they were her own.

  She was blessed, too, with the fact that Samuel had been held back from school. In any other circumstance she would not have had the pleasure of teaching him.

  She had, too, a wonderful household, with Jenkins who was as avuncular as they came, the clumsy yet amenable Mary, and even Cook with her talent for pastries.

  Add to that, too, her employer, who treated her kindly and even allowed her to take on more responsibilities.

  All in all, she was happy, she concluded. Perhaps a family of her own might have been a happier goal, but there was nothing for it. Since this was to be her lot in life, she was abundantly satisfied to know that her circumstances could have been far worse.

  That, she decided as she closed her eyes and fell asleep at last, would have to be her outlook and approach: to remember just how lucky she was and feel gratitude, not remorse or sorrow.

  Chapter 31

  Edmund kept to the resolve he had made with himself. Things had to change, and they had to change immediately.

  He had not quite brought hims
elf to the task of addressing her directly, but he had left for the office early the next morning with Miss Warrick on his mind. She need not know that he was aware of her betrothal, but it was certainly inappropriate to let things carry on as they were.

  He did not know what kind of game Christopher intended to play, and how long he would wait before giving the confession of his happiness. But since this timeframe was yet to be determined, the only thing Edmund could do was to take matters into his own hands as far as he was able.