"Oh Clary, he doesn't listen. He keeps saying how pretty I am. He once grabbed my hand so tightly, he wouldn't let go. He is quite ... strong and overpowering. I was led to believe, by him, of course, that he is a war hero and fought on the Peninsula with Wellington's army. Therefore, I should be nice to him."
Jane lowered her gaze to her lap, hiding behind her lashes and fiddling with her bedraggled lace-edged handkerchief. “Besides, Clary, it is rather difficult to ... well, to be rude to a worldly man like him."
"How old do you judge him to be, Jane?"
"In his middle thirties, I think. Older than the marquess."
Clarissa pictured a large man with a well-padded frame, a paunch, and a ruddy complexion that was most likely brought on by his imbibing of too many raw spirits. A man whose lips were slobbery and wet, whose cigar's smoke smelled unpleasant, and who reeked of unwashed small clothes. “Can you not complain to the marquess?"
"Oh no, Clary, I wouldn't dare!” Jane exclaimed. “As it is I find it hard to approach the marquess. He makes me quite nervous. He is very tall, very imposing ... and intimidating!"
"In what way does he intimidate you?"
"It is hard to explain,” Jane said, shifting her gaze to the greenery outside and noticing the late afternoon sun was edging close to the horizon. “Of course, part of it is because of his rank. He is not partial toward his daughter, either. He does not seem the least interested in either me, or anything I am trying to teach her. I repeat, Clary, that it is a struggle to teach Lady Beatrice something—anything—that might interest her. Most times His Lordship looks at me as if I were part of the woodwork. Those piercing eyes of his look cold and hard, and I get the impression he is quite unfeeling where his daughter is concerned. He seems to concentrate entirely on his pleasure and his friends and acquaintances."
"Not a pretty picture, Jane, I must say."
"He did acknowledge me with a slight nod when I passed him in the second stair hallway last week. I was surprised, because he is not usually anywhere near the schoolroom. He never stops by to ask about his daughter's progress or lack of it. Instead, I speak only with Mr. Griggs about Beatrice's lack of academic enthusiasm."
"Hmm ... how peculiar! Oh dear, you seem to have gotten yourself into an awful pickle, Jane. It seems exactly the wrong situation for you to be in."
Clarissa knew how hapless Jane was in coping with small difficulties in life, let alone a highly-ranked employer who ignored or frightened her. And certainly, she would be intimidated if she were plagued by a persistent guest with lascivious intentions. Clarissa read novels how men like Mr. Black pursue unworldly and innocent maidens like Jane. Not, of course, to marry them, but rather to force them to succumb to what novelists call ‘a fate worth than death.'
"Go on, Jane. I want to hear more about the marquess,” Clarissa prodded.
"Well, as I said, mostly he ignores me. Mr. Black is much more terrifying. Oh Clary! What can I do to make him leave me alone?"
Clarissa stopped to think.
Before she could reply, Jane blurted out, grimly. “It is no use—I simply cannot stay at the Priory. That is why I came to beg your father for a new character. Nor do I want the marquess's steward made aware I am looking for another situation, or Mr. Griggs may dismiss me out of hand."
"How can you hide it from him?"
"I am not sure, but I must. I thought to write to one of the Domestic Bureaus in London, Clary. You know—many of them do the interviewing for their clients. Perhaps I can ask Lady Sutcliff to recommend me elsewhere if I write and beg her to do so."
"If what you said about her being kind is true, I am certain she will."
Jane sat unmoving, only her elegant fingers opening and clenching in her lap. “I would rather she not mention my intentions to the marquess until I have actually found another position. Although since I seem invisible to his eyes, it may not matter after all. But then I shall no longer have a home, Clary. Papa's distant relatives live in the north of England. But truly, I do not wish to live with them; I don't even know them."
"You can always stay here with us,” Clarissa offered.
Jane's eyes brightened. “Do you mean that?"
"Of course, I mean it. Papa and I would love to have you remain with us until you are settled. When Papa arrives home, I know he will write you a new character. Or, if you like, I can write out the same one Mama gave you to Lady Sutcliff. If I sign it over Mama's name, no one will know the difference."
"But Clary, your mother is no longer with us. Do you think that is quite ... honest?"
"Pish posh! Of course, it is! It would be just as if Mama were writing it."
"Yes, I suppose so,” Jane murmured doubtfully. “It is very kind of you, Clary, but I still have to go back and face Mr. Black and the marquess tomorrow."
"Tell me more about the marquess.” Clarissa asked, the corners of her mouth twitching. “How old is he?"
"He's younger than Mr. Black, that much I learned. He's quite handsome in a scary kind of way. I dare not stare at him lest he catch me, Clary, but he has black hair with some gray at the temples and ... and silver eyes. Oh, those piercing eyes!” Jane felt herself shiver. She chose the rest of her words carefully. “You know servants gossip, Clary. His Lordship has a wicked reputation with the ladies."
"The marquess? Is he like Mr. Black, Jane?"
"I have no idea.” But Jane's misgivings about the marquess had escalated after what she heard about his week-long house parties. “As I told you, he has never so much as spoken a word to me."
"Hmm, I see.” Clarissa nodded sagely. “Well, Jane, Mama warned me what happens to naïve governesses living in an aristocratic situation. Undoubtedly there are unscrupulous bachelors sleeping under the same roof with ... with innocents like you, Jane. You mentioned that Mr. Black nor the marquess are married. Not, of course, that is the end and be all of it if they were, but...."
"Oh, you must mean—oh my! I truly was not concerned about the marquess. I told you he looks right through me."
"Never you mind, Jane. Mama told me all male aristocrats, no matter how old or young, think nothing of having their naughty way with innocent servants—just like Mr. Black. In those big, rambling houses, a governess sometimes does not have a safe niche in which to hide. Especially if she is trapped in the schoolroom. You, of all people, are fair game for either one of those ... those unspeakable cads."
"But, Clary...” Jane hesitated, puzzling it out. “Do you really think the marquess...."
Clarissa nodded her head with a certainty. “Why should he be different?"
Jane felt shocked and looked shocked. “I suppose if you say so,” she agreed, finally, her expression taking on a haunted look.
"You can wager I wouldn't let any man take advantage of me, Jane. But, oh, what a dastardly predicament you are facing!"
"Well, that is why I must leave. Even though I lock my room at night, Clary, I am still afraid. What if Mr. Black accosts me in the corridor and pounces on me when I'm not looking?"
"Do you think he would dare?"
"I don't know. The door to my bedchamber seems strong enough, but I cannot seem to get a night's rest worrying about it. It is probably silly of me, but by morning, I have a wretched megrim. And I am so tired and sleepy, I can scarcely go over the lessons with Beatrice with any sort of attention. Oh, Clary, I just want to run away from there and hide!"
Clarissa's friend's creamy complexion looked unnaturally pale. Dark circles under her eyes looked like lavender-tinged bruises. Jane had dug worry grooves deep into her forehead and around her mouth, making her look older than Clarissa remembered.
Jane had always been high strung. If she had any sort of disagreement with her father or anybody else, she would cry herself sick because of it. Good grief! If Jane had those nervous palpitations now, she would never have been hired.
"I believe what you need is a holiday, Jane. Are you entitled to one?"
"I forgot to ask for one when I was engaged,
” she replied.
Feeling wretched, Clarissa saw watery tears glistening in her friend's eyes. She quickly put her arms around Jane's shoulders. “Somehow, dear friend, I shall find a way to help you. I promise!"
Chapter Five
"I must go back to the Priory, but, oh, Clary, I am sure Mr. Black will be there ... waiting for me."
"What is obvious is that you must not go back, Jane.” As Clarissa spoke, she knew it was the only solution. She felt Jane trembling when she hugged her as if she were in the middle of winter instead of today's spring-like weather.
"Now listen to me, Jane,” Clarissa said, “you must be sensible about what I am proposing. First, you are to stay here at the vicarage. You will write to Lady Sutcliff asking her for help. And you must contact the Domestic Bureau in London, too."
"I cannot leave the Priory without giving in my notice,” Jane sputtered. “If I just walk out like that no one will take me on. This is the way of it, Clary. Mr. Griggs engages the Priory's staff. Why, when one of the housemaids ran away to get married, he told the marquess's housekeeper, Mrs. Ash, ‘That ends her employment with us! It is disgraceful not to notify one's employer. It sets a bad example to everyone working here.’ And that was the end of that!” Jane said.
"How long does one need to give notice and still get a decent reference?” Clarissa asked.
"At least a month before leaving,” Jane answered. “Sometimes longer if they cannot find a suitable replacement.” Jane's handkerchief swiped at her watery eyes again. “I cannot bear another month of staying awake and waiting for Mr. Black to ... to attack me in the schoolroom."
Jane was so distraught that Clarissa hugged her tighter and said, “Hush, Jane. I will ask Olly to make you a soothing cup of tea. You will feel much better after you have calmed down."
"I cannot calm down until I leave the Priory and ... and stop Mr. Black from pestering me.” She hid a tiny hiccup behind her fingers.
"Never fear, you will. And I will help.” Wiping a tear with her thumb from her friend's cheek and patting the back of her hand gently, Clarissa released Jane. “I am planning to help you right now."
Clarissa pressed an index fingertip against her pursed lips. The gesture was unconscious and always helped her ponder through a sticky problem.
Jane watched Clarissa's expression, feeling better already.
Abruptly, Clarissa rose to her feet and began to pace, muttering to herself. “Hmm, tell me something, Jane. Before you left Warner House, did you look ill? Discomforted?” She turned to look at her friend. “Well, did you, Jane? Perhaps, you even complained to Mrs. Pritchett."
"I do not remember, but Mrs. Pritchett must have noticed I was agitated, because she told me it was all right for me to borrow the carriage and come visit you."
"There! You see!” Clarissa smiled with satisfaction.
"Clary, the woman is jealous of any time I spend with Lady Beatrice. Therefore, she was glad when I left the house. She once stated that ‘Governesses are nothing but trouble and unnecessary much of the time.’”
"Oh, Jane! That is the last thing you are!” Clarissa encouraged.
"Well, I try not to cause trouble.” Jane stretched her lips into a wry smile. “But I wish I never had to leave Lady Sutcliff."
"Cheer up, Jane!” Clarissa said, seeing her friend's face. “I have found a way out of your troubles."
Jane glanced up hopefully, but her blue eyes still looked apprehensive in her pale face. Clarissa sank down in the chair across from her again. “Now, don't say a word until I finish telling you my plan."
"But..."
"Shush! No buts, Jane, just listen."
Poised to explain, Clarissa's expression turned serious. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “As I said, Olly will look after you until you feel better. So you have nothing to worry about while you are here."
When Jane opened her mouth to protest, Clarissa held up a hand to command silence. “Then, instead of you going back to London, I will go there in the marquess's rig. When I arrive, I shall advise Mrs. Pritchett that you became decidedly ill when you arrived to visit me at the vicarage, and that I came to take over as governess until you are well again."
Clarissa leaned back and smiled. “Of course that will be for a short time only, Jane, until you find a new position. There, you see? Everything will work out quite nicely."
Jane straightened up, looking stunned. “But that's ridiculous, Clary! You cannot just show up there and claim to be a governess!"
"Who says? I was taught by your father, and I am as capable of teaching as you are."
"Oh, Clary,” Jane murmured uneasily. “That might be so, but believe me, no one can teach Beatrice anything. She is inattentive and belligerent. The girl does not apply herself. She has a stubborn streak and does whatever she pleases no matter what I ask of her. It is evident that no one disciplines her either. Certainly not her father.” Jane added, “You are a dreamer, a romantic, a lady like your mother, Clary, but I do not think you have the patience to be governess to an unruly child."
Clarissa watched a shudder ripple through Jane a second time.
"I can deal with that obnoxious Mr. Black more effectively than you can, Jane. In fact, I plan to give him a well-deserved lesson on how to comport himself like a gentleman—one he will not soon forget."
"Oh, no, Clarissa! Please, do not even speak to him! Do not go near him! I rather you did not!"
"Unlike you, Jane, I am not the least afraid of him. I have nothing to lose by putting him in his place, either. And besides, you won't be able to stop me, because you will be here—and I will be there—with Lady Beatrice at the Priory! Meanwhile, I know you will find a happier situation."
"No, no!” Jane exclaimed. “You are who you are—and I am me. Allowing you to assume my dilemma gives me the shudders! Oh goodness! I am such a cowardly country mouse."
"I know,” Clarissa agreed with a soothing, if patronizing smile as she patted her friend's arm. “That is why you cannot stay there another month, enduring Mr. Black's unprincipled behavior. I shall work out your notice for you."
Jane's thin hands shook as she spread them in a second gesture of protest.
"No, no, listen Jane. I will explain to Mr. Griggs what happened with something that is convincing.” Clarissa paused. “I know, I will tell Mrs. Pritchett that you developed a fever and ... a ... a rash, and that Dr. Twilly thought it may be.... umm, let me see. Ah ... well, look here. How about the measles?” she said, bobbing her head. “There you go! Definitely, measles."
"But I had meas..."
"No matter, Jane. I shall tell Mrs. Pritchett that you did not wish to pass the infection on to Lady Beatrice or anyone else at the Priory.” Then Clarissa concluded, “I shall say I was seeking a position, but because of our friendship, I agreed to stay on temporarily for you which will cause no inconvenience to the marquess."
Clarissa's smile was triumphant. “I shall find time later to apprise him or his steward that you shall not be returning. That allows them time to hire someone new. I will tell them I shall leave when the month is up."
"Oh Clary, what if the marquess ... or Mr. Griggs ... refuses? What then?"
"Why would either of them refuse? They will suffer no inconvenience in the exchange since they are getting one competent teacher in place of another."
Clarissa's eyes lit up. Just thinking about staying at the Priory sent excitement coursing through her. She was anxious to assume Jane's position. She could then explore the ancient estate, and observe the aristocratic members of the ton who are the guests of the marquess's parties and balls. She would jot down her impressions of London's Polite Society in a diary, and someday she would write a romantic novel of her own and earn enough to pay her father's debts.
"Oh, Clary, I am not sure this will work,” Jane hedged. “Do you think he will believe you?"
"Of course, he will,” Clarissa snapped, briskly. “You always believed me, even when I teased you. You laughed, and said I
had too honest a face to fabricate.” Clarissa grinned. “And the marquess cannot possibly complain, since you are doing what is best for the child by not infecting her with the measles.” Clarissa squeezed her friend's hand. “You will see, Jane. Everything will be fine when I get finished explaining."
Clarissa continued to pump Jane's memory for details about the Priory.
"Well, let me see, Clary. Daniel did tell me—"
"Daniel?"
"The marquess's cousin, once or twice removed, I think. He is the library's caretaker at the Priory. It is a marvelous library. Daniel lives on the Priory's grounds in a small cottage and ... well, he and I spoke often when I was looking for ideas for my lessons. He is the one who told me the Warner family has a reputation of being clever statesmen and distinguished soldiers. I learned the marquess's elder brother was killed on the Peninsula. That's how he became the Marquess of Chester. His Lordship fought in the war, too."
"Is there a family history written down somewhere?” Clarissa asked.
"Yes. There is one in the library, but I never had time to read it. By the time I help put Beatrice to bed along with Mrs. Pritchett, then tidy the schoolroom, I am usually too weary to read anything."
Jane mumbled a few more words of protest, saying, “I should not permit you to fill my shoes, but at the same time, I could be searching for a new position."
By the thoughtful tone of her voice, Clarissa knew her friend was weakening. She also knew Jane was greatly relieved to have the problem taken off her hands.
Before leaving Lower Cadbury, Clarissa would write herself a reference in case anybody asked for it at the Priory. She would sign it with her father's name.
"What if they find out who you are?” Jane had asked when Jane learned what her friend planned.
"You know as well as I do that no one ever heard of Lower Cadbury—it is in an out-of-the-way place,” Clarissa replied. “Believe me, Polite Society and its aristocratic population is quite unaware of either Papa or me."
Jane thought that to be true, so she agreed. “All the same, I should never forgive myself if Mr. Black ... well, hurt you in any way."
A Temporary Governess Page 4
