The Key to the Governess's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  In all of his thoughts about pursuing the woman that he had come to love, Peter was still wondering what she would think about all of this. Would she approve? Would she allow him to move forward in matrimony with someone of another class?

  It was a question that he did not necessarily want to answer.

  His mother was a decent woman and she was typically kind. But would she be willing to see her son married to someone who would not necessarily be accepted by society at first?

  That was the question. And it was one that he was frightened to ask.

  Of course, Peter realised, he was getting ahead of himself. He was still engaged to Lady Seton.

  He would have to take it one step at a time.

  Chapter 29

  A chill had settled in the air. Despite the fact that the days had been growing warm there were still hints of spring rains about, although it was usually in the evening and night when the cold made her threats.

  Beatrice was not able to avoid some of her duties outside, such as collecting wildflowers that the girls could use for making little crowns.

  Truthfully, this was hardly something that had to be done. But, Beatrice knew that they would enjoy it. She also hoped that their mother and father would enjoy the production that they were putting together.

  It was not as though she could take flowers from the main garden, so she found herself wandering down a path away from the house as the rain began to drizzle in small, steady drops.

  Mary and Cecile had been practicing and memorising a small play. It was a children’s story about little fairies that they had asked Beatrice to write for them.

  Although she would rather have taught them a great work from one of London’s most excellent playwrights, the majority of those had more adult subject matters then she wished for the girls to learn.

  Therefore, she had chosen to write something for them now, that they might learn the skill of memorisation until the day they had matured enough to perform Shakespeare or Etherege or Congreve.

  As she continued milling about the path, she heard footsteps behind her.

  Beatrice turned and saw Isla on the path as well, her hair just starting to grow damp from the rain that threatened to pour.

  “Isla? What are you doing out here?” Beatrice asked, clutching the stems of some of her blooms.

  “I had to get out of the house. I could not just sit there, idly waiting for whatever is to happen with my fate,” Isla said.

  “Oh, dear. What more has happened?” Beatrice asked.

  “I hardly know anymore. In one moment, it feels that everything will be all right. We have a ball coming up and it seems that Lord Hawthorn understands that I have an affection for Lord Beckridge. I could be wrong, of course, but I certainly believe that he understands,” Isla said.

  “You think so? That is good news, at least. If he understands, he may be willing to set you free from the engagement,” Beatrice said.

  “In truth, I believe that he would be more than happy to. The problem, however, is my father,” Isla said.

  “You think he would be unwilling to let you marry Lord Beckridge? Even now? Even if Lord Hawthorn were to end the engagement?” Beatrice asked.

  “That is the question, really. And I worry that my father would be terribly furious at Lord Hawthorn. It would not be good for my reputation, of course, but I believe that Lord Hawthorn would see to it that everyone understood we had parted amicably and I know that he would support Lord Beckridge in a pursuit of marriage,” Isla said.

  Beatrice wondered if that was true or if Isla was simply being optimistic.

  “He would support his dearest friend marrying his betrothed?” she asked, as gently as she could.

  “I know that it sounds foolish, like the notion of a dreamer. But I truly believe it, Beatrice. Honestly, I have seen the way the two treat one another and, if Lord Hawthorn is willing to end our engagement, I can see no reason why he would not support—nay, urge—Lord Beckridge in courting me,” Isla said.

  “I do hope you are right. It would make me happy to know that you are with the man that you love. If that were possible I should certainly support you, so perhaps you are right and they are as close as we are,” Beatrice said, taking one of the flowers and tucking it behind Isla’s ear.

  “Well, that is the other side of it, really. Lord Hawthorn has every reason to wish for this engagement to come to an end, just as I do,” Isla said, touching the flower to secure it in place.

  “Why is that? Why would he not wish to marry you?” Beatrice asked.

  Isla looked at her with amusement.

  “Do not pretend that you don’t know,” Isla said.

  “Know what?” Beatrice asked, not understanding the point Isla was trying to make.

  “Beatrice, it is clear that Lord Hawthorn is in love with you. As clear as it is that Lord Beckridge and I love one another. Do not play the fool. Whether you truly are not aware or you are only putting on a show for my effort, you must concede to the fact that he loves you,” Isla said.

  Beatrice scoffed, unable to deny it as firmly as she wished she could.

  “Please, do not pretend otherwise. Tell me, do you like him in return?” Isla asked.

  “What?” Beatrice asked, her voice shrill and horrified that Isla had asked her the question that she hoped would never come.

  But Isla just looked at her with a serious gaze and a raised eyebrow, not willing to let Beatrice get away with acting shocked by the very idea.

  Beatrice took a deep breath, finding it difficult to get any air. She had not anticipated this conversation to come so soon. No matter how many times she had thought about confronting the issue, she was not prepared when it came to her instead.

  How could she confess the fact that she was beginning to fall in love with Isla’s future husband?

  “Yes,” she said, firmly, releasing her breath with the word. “But I would never betray you, I promise. I would never allow those feelings to proceed forward if you did not wish for me to, and it is utterly ridiculous anyway because he is your future husband and a duke and I am simply a governess who works for your family, so really it is only a little infatuation which must be ended.”

  The words came out in a rush and with great agony.

  Beatrice could not explain why it was so difficult to tell the truth. It should have been the easiest thing in all the world. Nevertheless, it was a painful fact to admit.

  The affection that she held for Lord Hawthorn was one that she would forever be ashamed of. He was wonderful, of course. But this was only evidence that she was unable to maintain her self-control; that she could not refrain from loving him even when it was for the sake of Isla.

  But she saw something very different in Isla’s face.

  “Thank you for telling me, Beatrice,” Isla said. “Thank you for your honesty in a time when I needed to hear the truth more than ever. It was good of you to be open about this.”

  “I am so sorry,” she said in a whispered apology, shame overwhelming her.

  “Why? Why would you be sorry for loving a man who clearly loves you in return?” Isla asked.

  “Because he is your intended. I cared for him even before I knew that you did not. It was wrong of me, Isla,” Beatrice said, angry at herself.

  “Stop, Beatrice. You need to stop being so difficult about all of this. I know that you would never betray me. Even if I had loved him and even if my feelings for him were equal to yours, you surely must know that I trust you. I trust that you would have remained silent for my sake, that you would have been happy for me, standing by my side as I married him,” Isla said.

  “You trust that? You believe that I would be a good enough woman that I would have set my feelings aside for your sake?” Beatrice asked.

  “Have you done anything different? This whole time, even knowing that I have feelings for Lord Beckridge and that I am indifferent toward Lord Hawthorn, you still honoured me and honoured our friendship enough that you refrained from
sharing your feelings. You cannot help what is in your heart, but you chose not to act on it out of concern for something more,” Isla said.

  “I still do not think I was all that trustworthy,” Beatrice said.

  “You have never given me reason not to trust you. I know the sort of woman that you are. Of course I trust you,” Isla said.

  Beatrice was moved, thankful that Isla was so willing to approve of her feelings. It was not what she had anticipated, but she was thankful for it.

  “You are far too kind to me,” Beatrice said, still thinking it a marvel that Isla was not angry with her for loving the man to whom Isla was meant to be wed. Beatrice thought that if the situation had been reversed, surely she would be upset at her friend for falling in love with her betrothed. It was wrong of her, so very wrong. She could not deny that.

  Isla had been far kinder than Beatrice deserved.

  “Be that as it may, my father will not be so kind,” Isla warned her.

  “I would not expect that he would be,” Beatrice confessed.

  “My father wants this marriage more than he has ever wanted anything for me. It is difficult for all of us, but I cannot deny that he would do just about anything to see this through, to make certain that this marriage proceeds,” Isla said.

  Of course, Lord Seton would never change his mind. He wanted his daughter to marry Lord Hawthorn no matter what; Beatrice did not need Isla to tell her that.

  And yet, perhaps, he would one day understand that Isla didn’t love Lord Hawthorn. Maybe, on that day, he would give her permission to end the engagement.

  And then, Beatrice would be free to love Lord Hawthorn as she wished.

  “I want to help in any way that I can, Beatrice,” Isla said.

  “What do you mean? There is nothing that can be done. And it is hardly only a matter of your father. Even if the engagement ended, and even if he suddenly approved, all of England would be in an uproar to see someone as grand as Lord Hawthorn married to a lowly governess from up near the border,” Beatrice said.

  Isla’s mouth twitched, frowning. It was clear that she had not thought about that.

  “I have no doubt that it can be overcome,” she finally said.

  Beatrice tried not to laugh at that, but she couldn’t imagine anyone looking past it. She only hoped that, one day, she might be able to accept that this love she felt was doomed from the start and she could move on, and just be happy that she had ever had a chance to feel love to begin with.

  “How could it possibly be overcome?” Beatrice asked.

  “Love has a fantastic way of pushing beyond the boundaries that we make for it. Do you not think that there must be a way around this? There simply has to be. I cannot fathom a world in which even love is bound by the whims of London society or the British government. No matter what a great kingdom we are, we cannot stop love,” Isla said.

  “You speak like a poet or a dreamer, but not nearly enough like a realist,” Beatrice said.

  “Beatrice, do not worry about it for the moment. What will come, will come. The future is vast and wide and you have no reason to spend your days in mourning when we do not know what is ahead,” Isla said.

  It was incredible, the way her friend was supporting her. Beatrice had never thought that she could actually have help, especially not to this extent. It was strange, being able to consider what she wanted and not feeling bad about it.

  She wished that she had been brave enough to speak up sooner.

  The rain was starting to come more quickly. The girls looked to one another and laughed, agreeing without a word that they needed to head back towards the house.

  They ran, together, their feet splashing in the mud by the time they reached the estate.

  Going inside, they made their way to the drawing room and collapsed on the settee. Beatrice was worried that they were going to get it wet, but Isla did not seem to be concerned.

  She looked at the flowers that were in her hand and saw that one had been somewhat crushed during the journey back inside, but that they were mostly intact. She would be able to make the little crowns so that the girls could do their performance that afternoon. It was certainly a good use of their time since they were stuck indoors the whole day.

  “Anyway,” Isla said, once they had caught their breath, “I was trying to tell you something before nature intervened.”

  “Yes, you were telling me that London society shall magically accept my position and allow me to marry one of the most favoured dukes in all the kingdom,” Beatrice said.

  Isla giggled.

  “No! I was trying to tell you that I shall make every effort to get out of this marriage. I know that there are struggles and complications, but if I may alleviate even one of them, I shall do it,” Isla said.

  “Really? You think you can manage to get out of it? Even with all of the demands that are on you?” Beatrice asked.

  “I believe that I can make it happen. I am not sure how, not yet. But I have to try,” she said.

  With Isla’s promise, Beatrice was growing more and more content. At last, she thought things might turn out all right.

  Then again, none of it mattered if Lord Hawthorn did not feel the same way that she did.

  Somehow, despite her better judgment, she did not think that would be an issue.

  It had been made quite clear to her that he had similar feelings.

  Perhaps it was arrogance that made her think a duke would stoop to loving a governess. But all of the evidence pointed in that direction. There was no reason she should not believe that. He had often given her a look of admiration or a misplaced compliment here and there.

  Perhaps that was reason enough.

  “Just dream about what the future might hold,” Isla said.

  “I often do,” Beatrice replied.

  Isla took Beatrice’s hand and smiled.

  Everything was going to be all right.

  Chapter 30

  The hall was glowing with light. There were hundreds of candles around the room, each one brightening up the atmosphere.

  Peter could hardly stand the wait. He had ensured that everything was decorated lavishly. From the silver ornaments to the silk curtains, he had turned the room into a place befitting royalty.

  Finally, the time came when guests began to arrive. One by one, they entered the room and the musicians struck up their instruments and began to play the chords and melodies that would be the theme of the night.

  Andrew stood beside him, as anxious as Peter was. Each of them was waiting for the woman that they loved; he wondered when they would arrive.

  One of the most painful parts of any ball was waiting until one saw the woman that he admired. Peter was aching, hoping that Miss Cloud would come without incident. It had seemed that Lord Seton was going to allow her presence and that was a great relief to him.

  After all, the whole point in hosting this ball was to make sure that he had an opportunity to see her. That, and to have some time with her and Andrew in which he might figure out how to be open with Lady Seton about wanting to end the engagement.

  With all of Lord Seton’s determination to bring about their wedding sooner, he was only more certain than ever that it had to come to an end.