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

by Abby Ayles

  There was the sound of a throat cleared in the doorway, and Edmund looked over to see Cook standing there.

  “Breakfast, my lord,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

  “Thank you, Cook,” Edmund said gruffly, feeling his own cheeks burn a little. He had not thought that he would be overheard. “Set it down on the dresser, here.”

  Cook did as she was bidden, and then withdrew to the hall again. “I think she will recover, my lord,” she said hesitantly, pausing and looking back.

  “You are confident in that?” Edmund asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “I feel it,” Cook said. “She’s a strong young woman. She won’t abandon us.”

  “Thank you,” Edmund said again, and meant it.

  With Cook’s departure, they were alone again.

  Edmund thought of picking up a book to read or even stepping to look out of the window, but he might have missed something: a flicker of movement, a groan, an essential moment in which Miss Warrick’s brow needed to be mopped.

  He applied some cool water to her face again, noting how small twitches brought her closer to the source of the water when he did so. She was in there, somewhere. He knew it.

  The food grew cold beside him, and Jenkins gave him a disapproving look when he came to replace it with some cold luncheon meats.

  “My lord, you must eat,” he said. “I beseech you. We cannot have any more illness in this house.”

  Edmund took his point, though he wondered when the man had decided it was acceptable to offer orders to his master instead of the other way around.

  “I will,” he promised. “Are the rest of you well-rested? Your service has been much appreciated these few days. I know you have sacrificed your own sleep and time.”

  “We are, thank you, my lord,” Jenkins nodded. “Slowly, we begin a return to normality.”

  “Almost,” Edmund said, casting a sad gaze back to Miss Warrick.

  He started from his chair, then, and grasped up a cup of water, for her eyes were fluttering and she was moving her head.

  “Miss Warrick?” he said, slipping a hand behind her head to support her neck. “Are you with us?”

  Miss Warrick groaned, and her eyes opened fully, though she did not yet speak. She seemed unable to handle even the light of the chamber, and squinted around like a kitten.

  “Here, drink this,” Edmund urged, putting the cup to her lips.

  He knew from experience that the thirst was great upon waking from the sickness, and that water was an essential need.

  She drank slowly, and even managed to raise her head a little more under her own power before sinking back onto the pillow.

  “How long?” she croaked out, focusing on Edmund at last.

  “It has been three days since you swooned again,” Edmund said. “I came home shortly after. Over a week since you fell ill.”

  Miss Warrick opened and closed her eyes slowly, seeming to adjust to her surroundings. “Where am I?” she asked.

  Edmund smiled. “I thought you should be familiar with it,” he said, teasing her gently. “It is my chamber.”

  Miss Warrick took this in, as well as his position in the chair. “You watched over me?”

  “Yes, Miss Warrick. Quite some reversal of our positions. The children are recovered. All are healthy now save yourself.”

  “I am mighty glad to hear it,” Miss Warrick said, settling further against her pillows with a tired sigh. “I worried for them.”

  “Too much,” Edmund said. “You almost dug yourself an early grave.”

  Miss Warrick said nothing to that, and Edmund leaned over to gently place the back of his fingers against her forehead.

  “Your fever is broken,” he told her. “You will be well now. But you may need further rest.”

  “I am so tired,” Miss Warrick said, and even attempted a chuckle. “I have quite worn myself out with sleeping.”

  Edmund smiled at that. “This time I will leave you some privacy,” he said. “Please, sleep. When you wake again, eat these luncheon meats. You will need sustenance.”

  He rose then, and left the room as her eyes closed once more. Pulling the door shut behind him, he met Jenkins’ eyes with a happy smile.

  “Will you stay here, Jenkins? You should be able to hear if she needs assistance.”

  “I will, my lord,” Jenkins said with a grin. “I am most happy that she is recovered. Will you spread the joyous news?”

  “I will,” Edmund promised, stretching out his shoulders and feeling the ache of three nights’ sleep in a chair.

  Chapter 38

  For days, everything was a struggle.

  Joanna felt as though she had undergone the most strenuous physical test of her life, and more. It took until the end of her first day awake before she could so much as lift herself into a sitting position in bed, and then she was most chagrined to realise that she could not return it to its rightful owner.

  “I shall sleep in a guest room,” Edmund told her with a smile. “I would not dream of disturbing you until you are more yourself again. What kind of gentleman would I be?”

  Her shame grew when she could not but move her feet to the floor the next day, before she had to retire again and sleep.

  But finally, with the help of Mary, she was able to stand and remove herself from the bed, and half-stagger along the hall to her own chamber on the third day.

  Removing her sweat-soaked day dress and undergarments was a blessing the likes of which she had never known. Her skin smelled like fever, and sluicing it off in a tin tub was a great joy – even if she needed Mary’s help even to climb into it.

  Feeling the last vestiges curl away from her hair in the water brought back some of her self again, and she felt much refreshed once dried and dressed in clean garments.

  “Burn it, Mary,” Joanna said when the maid held up her gown with a questioning look. “Even if it were to cost all my yearly wage to replace it, I don’t think I could ever wear it again.”

  Mary giggled, but she took it away all the same and followed her wishes.

  Joanna was beginning to feel stronger, even if only by small steps. She did not want to linger too long; there were duties that she had to get on with, after all.

  “Miss Warrick,” Christopher said, appearing in her doorway as if reading her thoughts. “How are you feeling? The children are asking after you, and I told them I would make a report.”

  “I should be down there myself,” Joanna said. “Let me gather my strength, and I will come down to the schoolroom. The day is not yet wasted, and I can begin their instruction again.”

  Christopher shook his head. “You work too hard,” he said. “The children are on enforced rest anyway. Patience and Amy are much recovered, but there is no need to push things too far. Though I am told that your presence is welcome in the drawing room, should you feel up to it.”

  Joanna nodded. “I think I can manage that,” she said. “I shall just ask Mary to help me with my hair.”

  Christopher cocked his head. “Is it so terribly unfashionable to wear it down around your shoulders so?”

  Joanna smiled. “I think it unprofessional, Lieutenant. I must be the very picture of presentation in order to instruct Amy and Patience.”

  “But today you are off-duty,” Christopher reminded her. “Come. If you wish, I will give you my arm and you can come down with me. Poor Mary can’t be asked to cart you around all day, like a workhorse.”

  Joanna blinked at his choice of words, only causing him to laugh uproariously.

  “Well, Lieutenant, when you put it like that,” she said, as his levity subsided. “I would be most honoured to accept your invitation.”

  Christopher nodded and moved to her side, holding his arm out with the elbow extended so that she could hook hers through it.

  Once she had slowly pulled herself to her feet, he waited to be sure that she was stable before moving off, keeping to her gentle pace.

  “Take as much time as you need
on the stairs,” Christopher said, as they approached the descent to the main hall.

  “It is getting up them again later which concerns me,” Joanna said, smiling ruefully. “Perhaps we might go down close to the side, so that I may hold onto the bannister as well as your arm.”

  Her legs were like jelly, shaking each time she lowered the weight of her body down another step.

  It was only her firm grip on the bannister and Christopher’s watchful strength which kept her from tumbling down all the way to the bottom.

  At last, the ordeal was over and they stood in the main hall.

  Joanna took a moment to breathe and collect herself, and Christopher waited patiently until she nodded that it was alright to go on.

  She was not quite prepared for what awaited her when they pushed open the door to the drawing room.

  The whole family were seated on various chairs and sofas, relaxing together and engaged in their own activities. Edmund sat reading the newspaper on one side of a well-cushioned French sofa, while Samuel was amusing himself with the pages he had already discarded on a nearby chair.

  Patience and Amy sat close by one another on a chaise, each engaged in embroidery, Amy peering her small head over her sister’s work to copy her actions. They were both draped with soft blankets over their knees, and Jenkins stood by at the back of the room, ready to serve in any way that he might be required.

  Each of them turned to her with an expression of delight as she entered, and Samuel even sprang to his feet.

  “Miss Warrick!” the children exclaimed.

  “You’re alright,” Patience said joyfully.

  “Quite so,” Joanna said, flushing to be greeted with such warm affection. “The Lieutenant thought I ought to prove to you all that I was yet living.”

  “Admirably done,” Edmund said, looking at Christopher with a spark in his eye. “Come, allow Miss Warrick to sit down by me. The cushions are most comfortable.”

  Joanna allowed herself to be led over and sank gratefully onto the soft sofa.

  Before she had time to adjust to her new seat, a blanket appeared from nowhere and was thrown over her legs.

  “Do let us know if you require anything, Miss Warrick,” Edmund added. “Jenkins has been instructed that you are to receive all you need for rest and recuperation.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Joanna said, flushing again. “You are all far too kind.”

  “Only as kind as you deserve, Miss Warrick,” Christopher said gallantly, sitting down by the empty fireplace and stretching his legs out in front of him.

  Joanna could only smile and blush further, looking around at the happy faces surrounding her.

  They soon resumed their idle chatter and pastimes, and she began to feel just as at home as if she had been sitting amongst her own family.

  That thought almost brought her to tears, and she was forced to hang her head for a time, looking down at her blanket to blink the moisture away.

  “Are you quite alright, Miss Warrick?” Edmund asked, with some concern.

  “Oh, yes, my lord,” Joanna said, finding no other words that could be sufficient to express her happiness at that moment.

  To be accepted in this way, only if for a short time while she recovered from the sickness, was more of a gift than she had ever thought to receive again.

  “You know, I wanted to ask your opinion,” Edmund said, keeping his voice low and darting a look in Patience’s direction. “Lord Edward Haverham. The third son – do you recall him?”

  “He danced with Miss Patience, twice if I remember correctly,” Joanna nodded. “The red-headed young man.”

  “Yes, exactly him,” Edmund replied. He hesitated, and lowered his voice yet further. “Did you find the impression of a suitable young man in him?"

  Joanna followed his gaze towards Patience, and caught his meaning. “You mean, as a beau, my lord?”

  “I was with the Haverhams lately,” Edmund confided. “Lord Haverham has expressed his interest in having his lad court our Patience. What did you think of him?”

  “He was well-mannered enough,” Joanna said, thinking back. “I think the Lady’s impression of him was a good one. He certainly cuts a dashing figure, for a young lord.”

  “I had thought to perhaps allow some courtship,” Edmund said thoughtfully, checking that Patience was not paying attention.

  “They can linger a year or so. There is no need to rush them together, but the family wanted to visit us anon. Perhaps when we have recovered a little more, it can be arranged.”

  “I think it might be wise, my lord,” Joanna agreed.

  He seemed to take that as answer enough, and settled back to his newspaper, satisfied.

  They passed away the hours of the afternoon in this fashion, and though Joanna had nothing with which to occupy herself, she was tired enough that to simply sit and observe was sufficient.

  She admired the way that Patience took time with her sister, helping her complete difficult stitches, and how Edmund soon moved on to conversing about Latin conjugations with Samuel.

  As the day wore on, they engaged in short but strenuous debates on a number of matters, and Christopher showed Samuel the correct way to carry out a military salute.

  Amy scrambled onto Joanna’s knee, where she had only enough strength to allow her to sit and to listen to her childish stories about fairies and elves.

  It had been a most magical day; the kind of day that Joanna felt she would one day wonder about.

  Had it all been real, or simply an extension of her feverish dreams? Could she really be so fortunate as all this?

  The fatigue hung heavy in her bones, however, and by that she knew it all to be true. She even dozed off at one quiet point as the hour grew late, and was only woken by the family rising to go to the dining room.

  “Will you dine with us, Miss Warrick? I think your recovery warrants a special occasion,” Edmund offered.

  Joanna gave him a rueful smile. “I am sorry to miss it, my lord, but I fear I have not the strength nor the appetite. I shall be satisfied with a bit of Cook’s broth and then shall retire to my chamber.”

  “As you wish,” Edmund said, allowing the others to file out of the room as he remained seated beside her. “Is there anything more we can do for you?”

  “No, for the moment. I have enjoyed a delightful day, my lord. I thank you greatly.”

  “Have you energy yet for a little more excitement?” Edmund asked. “Leave us, Jenkins, if you will.”

  The butler stepped out of the room with a knowing look, and Joanna turned her eyes back to Edmund in wonder.

  “There is something I have been wanting to say to you, Miss Warrick,” he said.

  With a flash of inspiration, Joanna thought she understood his meaning. “I do not require any sort of apology, my lord,” she said. “It was a misunderstanding only. I am only pleased beyond measure to be allowed to stay.”

  “It is not that,” Edmund said with a self-conscious laugh. “Though you do, in fact, require and deserve an apology. My behaviour was beyond boorish.”

  “It was no such thing, my lord,” Joanna said, shaking her head. “I forgive it entirely. It was only a misunderstanding.”

  “Well, but you see, there was a reason behind my actions,” Edmund said.

  He sighed, and stood, beginning to pace in front of her.

  “I find myself quite unused to this kind of talk. You will forgive me, I hope, if I am not as eloquent as I would otherwise wish to be.”

  “Certainly,” Joanna said.

  There was a growing concern inside of her that had begun to gnaw at her belly. What could it be that he needed to discuss which was so difficult?

  “You see, I had a realisation while you were lying a-bed, Miss Warrick. We were frightened, all of us, that you might not wake up. Your sacrifice and insistence in looking after the children made your sickness all the worse, and we began to think it had taken too great a toll.”

  Joanna opened h
er mouth to apologise for causing worry, but Edmund held up a hand.

  “No, Miss Warrick, let me finish what I have to say, lest I lose the nerve to say it,” he said. “Imagining that you would never wake again, I found it a reality that I could not bear. The thought of continuing life without your presence was simply outside of consideration. I could not fathom an existence without your person beside me.