by Abby Ayles
Something in him had changed or perhaps opened again when he held her in his arms while she cried. He shook off the notion, however. No doubt it was just manly desires. After all, without all those frocks to cover her up, Miss Jacobson was actually quite pleasant to look at.
He didn’t care a wit for her beauty, however. The day his wife died he swore there would be no other for him. Of course, Lady Grimshaw had only encouraged him to find a mother for their children on her death bed. He would hear none of it.
She had smiled at him in that knowing way and weakly passed a letter off to him.
“Just in case you change your mind,” she had said in her weak voice before giving way to coughs again.
Grimshaw had looked at the letter in his hand, and were it not for his wife’s presence he would have immediately thrown it into the fire. It was titled ‘To Lord Grimshaw’s Future Wife’.
He had shoved the note into the top drawer of the dresser in his wife’s room and had not thought of it again until this moment. His mind mentally saw the sealed letter again and wondered over the words inscribed on top.
He reassured himself again, there would never be a future wife for him. He had had his happiness and though it was fleeting he had two beautiful girls to show for it. That was enough for him.
***
Miss Hannah Jacobson stood before her own mirror in her room much the worse for wear. She did her best to stuff her hair in the cap before setting a hat on top of that. It was her Sunday hat with a bright yellow ribbon bow tied around its wicker brim.
She didn’t feel bright at all like the hat on her head or the matching corn blue dress with its yellow flower pattern. In fact, if she could crawl back into her bed and never come out that would have suited her just fine.
Of course the girls would be waiting for her. She was to pick them up at the nursery and escort them down to meet their father in the carriage. Together they would ride into town and attend the weekly services.
Hannah would have said that she was rather settling into her life at Brighton Abby up until yesterday.
Now she had been accosted, had the weight of Mr. Poole possibly lurking around every corner, and worse had made a fool of herself during the night.
How much of what she shouted had been screams and how much had been words? What she feared more than ever was that she may have said something pertaining to Baron Edgley.
If that were the case, Lord Grimshaw would certainly look into her past employment wondering why she would call his name at night.
It would only be a matter of time then before the baroness would spread her lies even to this far-flung country house.
Hannah was sure by week’s end she would be unjustly ruined again and have exhausted all opportunities for employment.
What was she to do then? She certainly couldn’t return to Hendrick’s Preparatory School. They had, of course, offered her a place there since she was one of the most accomplished students.
She could bear living on the streets better than returning to that place. Yes, life would be better for her as a teacher than a pupil. No longer would she have cold drafty dormitories, forced washing in water that must have the ice broken first, or improper clothing against the winter cold.
She could never treat those girls the way she was treated nor bear to watch another do so and keep her mouth silent. She had been beaten, shamed, and starved enough in one childhood to ever stand by and watch it happen to another.
No, she would never be a good fit for Hendrick’s and she doubted that the baroness hadn’t already written to them as well. No welcome was to be found there.
As nervous as she was to see Lord Grimshaw this morning after such a personal and embarrassing encounter last night, it was a necessity. Only then could she gauge his own mind, and perhaps decipher how much she had said through her screams.
She didn’t feel up to the task after such a fitful night of sleep but there was nothing to be done for it. After all, if Hendrick’s was good for one thing, it was to teach young ladies to withstand almost any amount of starvation or sleeplessness and still perform up to snuff.
She placed her pin in her hat, covered both her hands in laced gloves, and left her room to collect her two wards.
Chapter 8
Grimshaw had convinced himself by the time he left his room and made his way downstairs that all feelings and nervousness was nothing more than imagined.
Still, he couldn’t help but stare as he watched Miss Jacobson descend the stairs with his two daughters in hand.
Of course, both girls had been dressed in their finest by dutiful Abigail. Caroline was wearing a grey silk dress with a burgundy rose pattern running down in stripes with matching burgundy velvet bows in her dark brown hair.
Rebecca looked ever the baby in her pink silk dress with its matching pink petticoats sticking out of the bottom. It had been a gift from his last trip into London and he was happy to see her in it.
Rebecca loved everything girly still and Grimshaw wanted to savor that in his youngest daughter as long as possible.
But not even the beauty of his little girls could keep his eyes off of Miss Jacobson. As she slowly made her way down with a child in each hand, she rather looked like a golden angel from the large window reflecting light behind her.
The large yellow ribbon in her hat reminded him so much of the hair he had rested his head against only the night before.
He was surprised to see too that for the first time Miss Jacobson was not wearing the large spectacles that had hid most of her face since he first met her.
He couldn’t help but notice her perfectly clear blue eyes that matched her dress perfectly, as well as the soft indent of dimples on either cheek. Perhaps if she smiled, they became more pronounced.
He suddenly felt an unnatural desire to say something funny only to experiment with the truth of his hypothesis.
“Have you forgotten your spectacles?” Grimshaw asked as soon as the ladies finished their descent and came to stand before him.
He wanted to say how refreshing he found seeing her perfect porcelain skin without their hindrance but knew that would be far too forward.
“Yes,” Miss Jacobson said, releasing Caroline’s hand and pinching the bridge of her tiny nose. “I only need them for reading.”
“Will you not need to read the hymn book? We have time to wait if you need to go and retrieve them,” Grimshaw added rather reluctantly.
He was hoping to see more of Miss Jacobson without the constant shield her glasses caused by seeing truly into her eyes.
“No, I will be fine. It is only for excessive amounts of reading, like schoolwork,” she continued in her fabrication of a story.
In all honesty, Hannah had reluctantly gone without the eyewear only because the crying the night before had given her such a headache. She couldn’t bear the pinching sensation the spectacles gave behind the ears and at the bridge of her nose in such a state.
She had rather hoped it wouldn’t make that much difference, but the earl had commented on it.
He was also looking down at her in a way that was quite frightening at the moment. She hated to sound vain, even in her own head, but she was sure that her beauty was nothing more than a curse set upon her.
Luckily no more words were said on the matter and Hannah followed behind the earl, who happily took Caroline’s free hand, as they left Brighton Abby.
Hannah had to shield herself against the bright light as they exited the manor house. It seemed to be so beautiful and alive outside that she wondered for a second if it could be Easter Morning.
The carriage ride into the town was one to remember for her. On her way to Brighton Abby, it had been much too dark to see the fields of green or trees fat with spring leaves. Now there seemed to be every shade of green surrounding her.
Along the road’s edge sprang little wildflowers. Hannah wondered if she might take the girls to pick some in the afternoon.
As the town came into view Hanna
h couldn’t help but feel a little excitement. She was finally seeing it for the first time.
It resembled more of a quaint village than a town, with only one main street that led to a large square. In the middle of the square was a communal well and behind that stood the stone church.
It was by far the finest building in the village. It was made even more beautiful by the plump purple wisteria that climbed up its side.
Hannah couldn’t help but breathe in the fresh new life that seemed to rain down on her with the rays of sunshine as she exited the earl’s fine carriage.
Already there was a steady stream of villagers in their Sunday best greeting the vicar at the door and making their way into the church.
Upon their exit, the carriage driver continued on, no doubt to a stable to settle the two white horses that galloped with great majesty.
The earl led the way as Hannah followed behind with one girl in each hand. Rebecca was clinging to her in a loving way. Caroline, on the other hand, hadn’t quite warmed up to Hannah yet, though she did stay dutifully by her governess’s side.
Rebecca was young enough to love almost anyone unconditionally. Caroline on the other hand still remembered well the bitter sting of one abandonment after another and Hannah was sure that it would be a much more delicate process for her to open her heart again.
Hannah should have not cared a whit for such a thing. Certainly her teaching at Hendrick’s was to do her job most professionally and without emotional attachment. Such things were only a hindrance and inappropriate in the eyes of her childhood instructors. Hannah found, quite oppositely, that it was the emotional connections that truly helped her wards to grow into well-rounded human beings.
Hannah studied the rest of the congregation as they entered the chapel. Aside from her small party, it seemed that most were just humble farmers. She did recognize a few members of staff from Brighton Abby however. Her heart ran cold at the realization. Why it hadn’t crossed her mind before, she didn’t know.
Certainly, if the earl attended services in Concordshire then so did the rest of the household. If there was a parish supported by the earl on his property then he would certainly attend there. Along with the townsfolk and nearby farmers, there would also be a healthy dose of Brighton Abby staff members in today’s congregation. That, unfortunately, would include Mr. David Poole.
“Good morning, Lord Grimshaw,” a feeble voice crooned with a bow.
Looking upon the vicar, Hannah had to guess he was close to the end of his life. No doubt it was the reason for the younger man at the parish at the time of their last governess’s service.
Though she was told now both Miss Watts and her new preacher husband were removed from this place elsewhere.
“Good morning, Dr. O’Driscoll,” Grimshaw responded in his deep commanding voice. “Please let me introduce our new governess,” he added with a sweeping hand back for Hannah to come forward. “Miss Hannah Jacobson.”
Hannah curtsied respectfully. He seemed to eye her with a raised brow. Perhaps Dr. O’Driscoll was just as wary of her due to past governesses brought to his service.
“And where do you hail from, Miss Jacobson?” he asked in his quaky voice while folding his hands in front of his plain black preacher’s garb.
“I was born and raised in London.”
“I would assume so, since Lord Grimshaw only seeks the best governesses and naturally they will come from the fine city. But where in London, my dear?”
Already she could see that she was about to be sized up on account of her heritage. She had none to speak of and though this man was of the cloth she suspected by his downcast eyes he planned to judge her by it.
“Most of my childhood was spent in Hendrick’s Preparatory School for Young Misses. My aunt and uncle were kind enough to sponsor me thus,” Hannah said in hopes of dodging the question.
“Ah, I know the school well. It is one of the few fine establishments left,” he said now by way of informing the earl. “So often now these schools have gone soft on their wards and forgotten the necessity of a proper upbringing in humility and the good word.”
Hannah did her best to hide the overcast shadow on her face at his words. They had certainly endeavored to teach these two things by way of regular beatings, humiliation, and starvation.
It was clear that the reverend was of the same mind; spare kindness and quicken the rod.
“I can promise you they were most thorough in both aspects,” Hannah said with a sour taste in her mouth.
Dr. O’Driscoll gave a nod of approval and a gruff grunt.
At that moment Hannah realized that the earl was studying her most pointedly. He seemed to be searching for a way into her own mind. She looked away quickly, unable to hold such a penetrating stare.
They made their way into the cool chapel along the flagstone walk, past the pews already filled with Brighton Abby’s household and farmers.
Hannah could see that at the front of the chapel were seats much more sparsely filled. The dress of the people in these pews was more refined as well. She supposed these were the few townsfolk that had a slightly better standard of living than those who sat farther behind.
Here the ladies’ dresses were of a finer quality and prettier colors compared to the demure counterparts behind. Their noses were also distinctly higher than those behind them.
The earl ushered them to the front pew and then stepped aside to allow the three ladies in his company to take their seats first.
Hannah had a strange sense of protection as the earl took his spot at the end of the pew. She hadn’t seen Mr. Poole among the congregation as of yet but it still brought her comfort to be enclosed with no chance of someone coming to her without first having to go through Lord Grimshaw.
The sermon itself was rather dull as she expected after meeting Dr. O’Driscoll. He seemed to have a great passion for reproving sinners, and he seemed to find all women fitted in this category.
With such views on the female sex, Hannah couldn’t help but wonder how he must have felt when his pupil had announced a desire to marry Miss Watts.
It was an excruciatingly long sermon for Hannah that rather reminded her of the time she spent in Hendrick’s. She couldn’t help but be proud of the two girls at her side who both sat with hands delicately folded in their white lace gloves, their gazes held steady on the face of the preacher.
It was only after the sermon when the earl’s party rose to leave that Hannah was particularly aware of all the eyes on them.
The earl for his part paid no heed and instead thanked the vicar for his words and then continued down the way, sharing words here and there with several men.
“How long do you think this one will last?” Hannah heard a lady whisper behind her hand to another.
“Well, at least she isn’t as fine to look at as the last. Perhaps that will be the earl’s saving grace. Poor dear, he was so heartbroken after his wife. Then to have the last governess abandon him.”
“It is a wonder his daughters aren’t wildlings,” the first agreed. “I heard that he refuses to take them to town for the benefit of the tutors. He insists that they stay in the county seat. One could say he is just lucky his daughters are relatively well-behaved.”
Both ladies looked in Hannah’s direction and she held their gaze. She would not hide the fact that she had heard them nor shy away from it.
One of the ladies had the decency to blush at being caught but that didn’t stop them from turning and continuing their hushed talk as they made their way out of the sanctuary.
Chapter 9
“Are you the new governess?” A soft lady’s voice shook Hannah from her eavesdropping.
Hannah turned to see a kindly older woman in a clean but worn grey linen dress.
“Yes, I am Hannah Jacobson,” Hannah introduced herself to the lady, feeling warmed by the first kind smile since entering the church.
“And come all the way from London, I hear?”
Hannah cou
ldn’t help but look down at the lady, she was only a head taller than Caroline. It also didn’t help that she had a severe bend to her spine.
Despite her uncomfortable position, she seemed a very cheerful sort. Her hair was white and her chin matched in white whiskers, with her small eyes set so far back in her plump round face that it almost looked like currents pushed into a loaf of bread.
They were dark little eyes surrounded by waves of wrinkled skin that told a lifetime story. When she smiled Hannah couldn’t help but notice that a few of her teeth were missing as well.
