The Redemption of the Puzzling Governess: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance

by Fanny Finch

  But there was nothing at all for her to do about it. Delia had to simply accept that society would always see her as the instigator.

  It seemed very clear to Delia that the Baron was insinuating that the Earl wished to use her.

  While this was not the first time someone had suggested this, his attitude was entirely new. It was as though he was discreetly attempting to slander the Earl.

  Delia would not allow herself to be fooled. Suspicious of the Baron, she felt herself growing more and more protective of her employer. She would not allow anyone to speak so harshly against him.

  It was rather clear to her that he had not the Earl’s best interests in mind. Not only that, but he seemed to be no friend to the man at all.

  Delia knew that she was right to remain silent. She had spoken enough of her mind as the moment warranted. However, it would not have done well for her to speak further.

  Hoping that the Baron recognized his failure, Delia glanced back at him. Indeed, he was watching her still. He was watching her with anger and resentment.

  He did not like having failed. He did not like having caused her to simply grow towards her feelings for the Earl. It was obvious that she had only come to appreciate him more.

  Delia felt a deep sense of dread. She knew that she was frightened of the man, but had no desire to show it. She straightened her back once more. Making every attempt to appear strong, she took Grace’s hand again and continued the walk.

  Not only was she concerned about her own reputation, but she began to worry for the Earl of Dulshire. Were these his only friends? Were these the types of men he spent his time with?

  It was clear to her, that this supposed friend of his had a poor attitude towards him. Such an influence left her concerned.

  The afternoon had not been a pleasant one. Delia wished that she might be able to escape all of the events of the day but that was far from an option.

  Grace was growing more and more weary and Delia was more bothered by the moment. However, the Earl remained with his group of friends for a time.

  She wondered if he had seen the Baron speaking with her. Had he noticed it at all? Had he wondered and been concerned?

  It seemed as though he was doing quite well, laughing among the men. Others had joined them now and there was not much sense in trying to get his attention to tell him that Grace was tired.

  “Let us have a seat, Miss Grace,” she said. Delia led the child to a bench where they rested for a bit. She imagined that Grace must be exhausted and, before long, the child was sleeping against her.

  Delia did not mind. She merely felt sad that Grace had been so worn out by the walk. They could not have continued much longer and there was no telling at all when the Earl would be finished.

  She watched as the majority of the people in the park changed over. Those elderly and young women who had sneered at her in the morning had departed and new ones were taking their places.

  These new women had not seen her with the Earl. They did not judge her. To them, she was as every governess ought to be. Invisible. As if they did not see her existence, she was able to hide from them all even in this plain sight.

  Delia didn’t mind too much. She only wished for Grace’s sake that the Earl would take note of them.

  But he was laughing and entertaining the men. It was not a side she had seen of him. But it was rather refreshing to see him with them. Still, she was frustrated by his apparent forgetfulness. Had he discarded them entirely?

  The Earl of Dulshire was clearly a man who preferred his own company and the privacy of his home. And yet, here, now, his mood was one of friendliness and expression.

  Delia could not quite figure him. Had he noted how she had been treated earlier? Why was he leaving them to wait for so long?

  The Baron was still among the group of men. Delia wished he would leave. She wished he would have no influence over the Earl. But that was not her decision to make. And it was not as though her employer was going to listen to her concerns.

  She was a governess. No one would listen to her concerns.

  Chapter 18

  “Are you two ready?” the Earl asked, trying to be cheerful.

  He was not thrilled by the look on Miss Caulfield’s face. It was rather evident that she was unhappy and Grace was just waking, stretching her little arms. He could sense that he had waited far too long in his attempts to appear as though all was well and normal.

  “Yes, I believe we are ready,” Miss Caulfield replied without emotion.

  The Earl of Dulshire was embarrassed. He wished he had recognized the mistake of leaving them so long. In some ways, he wondered if it had been a subconscious attempt to prove that he was considering himself over them. That was not the man he wanted to be. But it was what society expected of him and would help be rid of the rumors.

  “The coach is this way,” he said, reminding Miss Caulfield who stood and helped Grace with the doll she had dropped in her resting state.

  “Yes, thank you. I remember,” she replied.

  He knew that her distant emotion was deserved. He had done little to warrant any response from her. And she gave none.

  “The day is still rather beautiful, is it not? I feared that a rain would come in and ruin our time. It is a great fortune that we were spared that,” he said by way of making conversation.

  “Yes, very fortunate,” she echoed.

  “I saw no other children, which surprised me. I had rather hoped that Grace might have the opportunity to interact with other girls her age. But it seemed that they were all much older than she,” he continued.

  “Indeed. There were none her age,” Miss Caulfield agreed, having no opinion of her own.

  She truly had shifted into the shell that belonged to women of her station. A governess was not allowed to speak with her own voice. She was only allowed that of an echo or a shadow. She had begun to play the part perfectly that day.

  Before long, they were all settled in the coach feeling uncomfortable. He knew that he had not stuck up for Delia as he ought to have. There was something strange about the day and the park.

  The Earl wished that he could go back and say something. He wished that he had addressed with her at the time the fact that they had been stared at. He wished that he had acknowledged it rather than simply trying to escape.

  But what reason was there for them to not be allowed to walk? Why should anyone have a problem with the governess joining when the Earl had taken his daughter? After all, it was her duty. It was her job.

  The Earl was frustrated by the fact that he had to consider these things. He did not understand why it was that society would take issue with a young woman simply doing her job.

  And yet in many ways the Earl knew that he was in denial. He knew that his governess was beautiful. He knew that people in society would consider that. So, in many ways, it did make sense for them to judge.

  The Earl of Dulshire was a widower. As a widower, he had not the luxury of being free from rumors. No, indeed they seemed to amplify.

  How was it that a man such as Lord Conmeyer could have an affair and still have standing in society? How was it that a married man could behave so terribly improperly and not be judged? And yet for a man like the Earl, a man with no wife at all, it was deemed inappropriate.

  The Earl was relieved that Miss Caulfield had seemed not to be bothered other than her distance. He did not know if she truly felt that way, or if she was merely trying to overcome society. However, she had been strong. It reminded him once more of how attractive he found her.

  Things remain silent in the coach. And as a result of that, the Earl could sense that there was something else wrong. While Miss Caulfield had done well at the park, perhaps now in privacy, she was more willing to show her feelings.

  It was more than possible that she was frustrated, angered, and annoyed by his lack of action. And yet he knew well that there was nothing he could’ve done.

  “Might I ask how you are feeling?”
he asked. The Earl was hesitant but could not simply sit by as she was in evident distress.

  She looked over at him, then glanced at Grace who was now sleeping again. When she turned back to the Earl, Miss Caulfield sighed with a false smile.

  “I am very well, my lord, thank you. Just tired,” she replied, making up a fake excuse. She did appear quite tired, but the Earl knew that it was only one aspect of her temper. What it was that truly held her down, he could not say.

  “I was simply referring to the park. Did you enjoy your time? I know that oftentimes those who walk the park are not the kindest of people,” he admitted. It was the best way he could think to excuse her for not enjoying herself while she was there.

  “Perhaps it was just not the right time for me. I imagine that were there more governesses around, I’d have been perfectly fine,” she said in a satisfactory tone.

  The Earl still did not believe her. He could sense that she was making every effort to ease the situation and to see good in it. But he saw no good. He saw only her pain and that caused him a grief he was quite unable to express.

  “Well then, if that is all. I do believe you will have a great many opportunities over time to be around young women in the same position as you,” he said, not knowing if that was offensive.

  “That should be rather nice,” she replied.

  “Yes, I am sure that as Grace ages, you will make a good deal more friends and acquaintances,” he continued.

  The Earl recognized that he was pushing. He had little more to say and Miss Caulfield was not responding much to what he had spoken. He wondered if he would be better off remaining silent until the coach reached his home.

  Still it seemed as though she was bothered. Still he could sense that Miss Caulfield was angered, annoyed even. He had also seen that his friend, the Baron, had spoken to her. She had seemed unnerved by him at the event at his home.

  Perhaps that was what was currently bothering her. Perhaps his dear friend had yet again said something to her distaste. He wished that she would understand that the Baron was a good man. And yet she seemed to have something against him.

  She had not mentioned him speaking to her. She had not mentioned much of anything. But the Earl could still sense through her silence that she was unhappy.

  He tried to shift his thoughts towards Grace. She seems significantly more joyful. The day out had done wonders for her.

  Seeing his daughter so delighted was enough to lift his spirits. Even if only for a moment, she distracted him with the way her pretty little eyelashes rested on her cheek. She looked so much like her mother, but she no longer held the painful memories.

  The distraction was brief, however. Frustrated and wishing he had solutions of some sort, the Earl once more allowed his thoughts to turn to the young woman beside him.

  He wondered how he might make things better for Miss Caulfield. As he had said, she would be around more women of her station when Grace was older, but for now, she was stuck amongst the elitists with no one of her own status. The house staff were beneath her in many ways, and they differed from her significantly.

  She really had no one at all.

  Yes, he ought to have said something earlier. At the park, he could have made a show, a grand gesture of her being a great governess and looking after his daughter before allowing them to run off together.

  And he was a fool to have stayed for so long with the men. It had been terribly selfish. He hadn’t even really enjoyed it. It was, once more, just a show.

  “I saw that you spoke with Lord Woldorf?” he asked, realizing that he might as well bring it out into the open.

  Miss Caulfield turned to him again and she seemed even less desiring to speak on the matter. He tried to read her face, but it was clear that she was not fond of his friend.

  “Yes. I did speak with him. He came over to me,” she said defensively. If she thought he was accusing her of something, she was terribly mistaken.

  “Did he have much to say?” the Earl inquired, not knowing where to proceed with the conversation. It had seemed odd at the time that he had gone to her, but the Earl brushed it away. The man was a good friend. He was probably merely commenting on her skills with his daughter after having seen Grace perform the poem at the dinner.

  “It would seem as though he very much enjoys making conversation of his own choosing,” she replied vaguely.

  He had no idea what that meant. What sort of conversation? And of his own choosing? What had he chosen? What was it that bothered her so?

  The Earl did not want to press, but he also felt desperate to know. Not only that, but the Baron was known for his appearance. Society called him an attractive man. Had Miss Caulfield noticed this?

  The jealousy that was creeping in was irritating. Why should he mind if she found another man attractive? What was it to him?

  “I suppose we all enjoy making conversation of our own choosing,” he commented nervously.

  “Yes, I suppose so,” she replied dryly.

  The Earl was at a loss. He wished she would answer him fully. But she had made it clear. She would not discuss anything further and he would not be able to push her to do so.

  Silence returned to the coach and he stared out the window, hoping that he might find a way to bring some comfort to the young woman. She had made such a great impact on him and he couldn’t understand why.

  He had met many young women. Even after losing his wife, they had been paraded past him with comments about how his daughter needed a mother. But not one of them, despite beauty and skill, not one made an impact.

  When he watched how loving Miss Caulfield was with his daughter, he was captivated. In those unguarded moments when he caught her reading and studying, he was in awe of her mind. He saw the ways she tried to be kind to everyone. He had noted that no one seemed beneath her.

  The Earl wondered what captivated her. What were her interests and desires for life? What were the things that got her truly excited?

  His attempts to get to know her better had failed. Even this day, this walk that he had planned, had been intended as a means of getting to know her better. But it had done quite the opposite. It had driven her away.

  When he considered all that had passed with his wife, the Earl decided he had to simply accept the fact that he was a failure. He could not make women happy.

  Not his wife. Not his governess. Not even his housekeeper. He failed consistently in every respect. Miss Caulfield was the most painful of all of them. No matter how he cared for her, even when he was not supposed to, he failed to make her happy.

  Chapter 19

  “You seem in a mood,” Amy commented. Delia looked up and saw that her friend was dusting the bookshelves. She had hardly noticed her coming into the library.

  Delia had felt uneasy since entering, feeling the terror of the Countess watching over her from the portrait. She would glance up now and then, with a deep and unreasonable fear that the woman’s face would be distorted in anger at her. Could a portrait read her thoughts?

  “I’m not in a mood. Whatever do you mean by that?” Delia asked in annoyance.

  “I mean that I have been in here for nearly ten minutes and you’ve not even noticed. In that ten minutes, I have seen you look at the portrait four times and you haven’t turned a single page of that book in your hands. Adding those to the scowl on your face and I would say that you are most definitely in a mood,” Amy laughed gently.

  Delia sighed in irritation.

  “Do you really have to notice these things?” she asked.

  “Well, you are one of my only friends. So yes. When you are in a state like this, I have little other choice than to be concerned. Such is the burden of friendship that I do actually care about you,” Amy replied with a smirk.

  “Perhaps it would be better for us both if you did not,” Delia remarked in a monotone voice.

  “Please, just tell me what it is that's got you so upset,” Amy urged.

  “If you truly want t
o know, then of course I shall tell you. And you also must know that I was not such a moody type long ago. I was filled with joy. I had ambition. I had dreams and desires. I fear that you have come to know a very unpleasant version of me,” Delia confessed.

  “Well whatever version of you I know, I am glad to know her. And you ought to remember that. You are my friend, whether you believe it or not,” Amy said with a look of pain on her face. Delia was grateful for a friend who cared so much.

  “You know that walk that we went on yesterday?” she finally proceeded.