Marnie entered Miss Robin's generously sized and well-appointed study. There was a vast dark wood desk, polished to a high shine, and two chairs in front of it. Marnie headed for one of the chairs, which was where she usually sat while being admonished by Miss Robin.
"Not there, Miss Stowe. You are drenched and freezing. Go and stand in front of the fire."
She obeyed, walking over to the blazing fire, around which were a sofa and two armchairs. Miss Robin rang the gold bell on her desk. When her assistant, Mrs. Pendleton, entered, she ordered her to bring Marnie a towel and fresh gown and underthings. When Mrs. Pendleton returned, Miss Robin instructed her to help Marnie dry herself and change into the fresh clothes.
"Thank you, Mrs. Pendleton. Please take those soiled things to the washing room at once. And bring us some tea and cake."
"Of course, Miss Robin."
When the door shut gently behind Mrs. Pendleton, Miss Robin said, "Sit, please, Marnie dear. We have much to discuss."
Marnie sat, her thoughts racing. Why was Miss Robin not cross with her? Why was she speaking kindly? It was unnerving. Marnie found herself blurting an apology.
"Miss Robin, please forgive me. I knew not what I was doing. I was beside myself. I know I must be punished—"
Miss Robin held up both her hands.
"Marnie, please stop. I feel that I understand the reasons for your outburst all too well."
"Miss Robin, please, no—"
Miss Pendleton re-entered the room, wheeling a trolley on which stood the tea, milk and sugar, in fine china vessels, and a fresh fruitcake. Miss Robin usually did not allow the girls to indulge in treats like cakes during their time at the academy. Eating plain fare, she explained to new Privettes, was a way of teaching discipline.
So, when Mrs. Pendleton cut a chunk of the delicious, buttery fruitcake, still warm from the oven, placed it on a plate decorated with tiny crimson rosebuds, added a dollop of fresh cream and passed the plate to Marnie, Marnie's heart sank. She set the plate back on the trolley.
Something terrible was about to happen.
Miss Robin did not speak until Mrs. Pendleton had poured the tea and left the room once more. She took a long sip from her dainty cup, and said, "Miss Stowe, please know that what I am about to say, I do not say lightly. I am proud of the work I achieve at this academy. I am proud of my Privettes, my graduates, my chaperones, my reputation—"
"And I have damaged that reputation through my actions. And I truly am sorry," said Marnie, unable to stop herself from interrupting. Waiting to hear what her punishment would be was too excruciating. "Please, do not delay the news of my punishment any longer. I cannot bear the dreadful anticipation. Am I to be caned again? Put on display? Given a figging? All of those things? Please have mercy, Miss Robin, and just tell me!"
Without meaning to, she had raised her voice once more.
"Calm yourself, Marnie. Have some cake. It is quite delicious. And drink your tea. Your nerves need settling."
Marnie tried to pick up her cup. It rattled against the saucer. Her fingers would not stop trembling. Eventually, she brought the cup to her lips and took a sip of the sweet, hot tea. It was calming, she supposed, but she could taste nothing.
"Allow me to resume," Miss Robin said. "Marnie, you have undergone every punishment that we at this academy have ever devised and some that few other girls have ever required. You have become involved with gentlemen and then broken off from their attentions. You have destroyed property. You have shown blatant disrespect for your teachers, chaperone, and other Privettes. You are one of my longest standing pupils. I do feel that since your arrival here, you have grown and matured—somewhat. But it is time to face facts. Today, you bit a man hard enough to draw blood. We can only hope that he has no wish to pursue the matter of his injury with the constabulary."
She sighed once more and removed her spectacles in order to rub her eyes.
"Miss Stowe. What I mean to say is this. Perhaps it is time to accept that my academy is not the best place for you anymore."
Marnie sat in stunned silence.
"I must leave?" she said.
Marnie could not believe what she had heard. Miss Robin knew that she would have nowhere to go if she left the academy. Her father's rules had been clear. She would not be able to return to her family.
"It gives me no pleasure to suggest it," said Miss Robin. "But our aim here is to teach discipline. If I have not been able to teach you yet, I must question whether it is possible to do so at all."
"B-but I thought you had never given up on a Privette—not ever—that's what everyone says!"
"And that is the truth. Or at least, it has been. But I never give a guarantee. And it is imperative that I put your best interests above my own pride and vanity in maintaining a flawless record. I thought you would prove suitable for this life—I am having to confront the possibility that I was wrong."
Marnie's eyes were wide with shock.
"Miss Robin—please—can you not—I will withstand any punishment, I will do as you say, I promise!"
"Marnie, I know you have a good heart, but I'm afraid it's too late—"
"But I have nowhere else to go!" Marnie cried, finally, in desperation. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. No one, not even Miss Robin, saw Marnie Stowe cry!
"I know. I have no intention of sending you to the workhouse," said Miss Robin. "Tomorrow, while the girls are at morning lessons, I am sending you to an address where there is someone willing to take you on as a governess. You will meet her tomorrow at ten o'clock sharp—a carriage will be here for you at nine."
"A governess?" Marnie could not keep the horror from her voice.
"Correct," said Miss Robin.
"But—"
"That concludes our interview, Miss Stowe."
"But—"
"Enough. Be downstairs in your travelling clothes tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp. And, Marnie—please—make the most of this opportunity. It may be the only one I am able to find for you."
Later, Marnie sat with Georgiana at recreation hour, a chessboard set up on the table between them. Weeks earlier, Marnie had discovered a chess set on one of the shelves in the parlour and had tried in vain to teach Georgiana to play. Georgie did not have a mind for chess—she did not like to take risks and so moved each piece as little as possible.
Marnie, on the other hand, had been taught by her father. This was in the days when she was just a small girl of no more than six, and her father still had hope that one of his children, at the very least, would be a son.
He had taught her not only how to play, but to play to win. One of the few indoor pursuits Marnie enjoyed was a game of chess. She had grown so proficient at it that her goal became not only to win but to win by as few moves as possible. But she had given up on trying to light a similarly competitive fire in Georgiana. Georgie didn't care whether she won or lost, which made playing against her very vexing indeed.
But playing chess still had one useful function. It meant the girls could talk without having to pretend they were reading or pressing flowers or doing needlework.
This was a ruse Georgie was happy to go along with. She detested needlework more than she detested chess, and so she played her own plodding version of the game as Marnie, quick as lightning, won game after game.
But that night, Marnie could barely find it in herself to play at all. Georgie had set up the board in order to speak freely to her friend, but Marnie could only spin the black queen in her hand with a faraway expression on her face.
"How bad was it?" Georgie asked finally.
"I-I don't quite know," said Marnie. She found herself at a loss for words.
"What do you mean you don't know? Did Miss Robin use a strap on you? A paddle?"
Marnie could hardly bear to look at Georgie's concerned, open face. "She didn't do anything."
"What?"
Marnie's voice dropped to a whisper. "It's worse
than that," she said.
Georgie continued to stare at her, her eyes wide-open and round. "How could it be worse?" she finally blurted.
Marnie closed her eyes. "I've been expelled," she said in the quietest whisper she could manage. She was aware that there were other girls, curious about what had befallen her in the aftermath of her outburst, who were keenly trying to listen in on their exchange.
"Expelled!" Georgie tried and failed to keep her whisper quiet.
"Hush, for goodness' sake!" said Marnie.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Marnie. It's just—it's just impossible!"
"Well, it happened."
"No, I mean it's not possible. Miss Robin doesn't give up on any of her girls, not ever. She's famous for it. No—I simply do not believe it!"
"Believe it, Georgie. I suppose I simply behaved so abominably that I gave her no choice."
Georgie shook her head. "No. I don't believe it."
"I'm being picked up tomorrow to interview for a governess position," said Marnie. She almost shuddered physically at the word 'governess'. "I had better be successful. If not, it seems I will be left to my own devices."
Georgie furrowed her brow. She was a plump girl with dark hair that shone like onyx, known for her optimism and air of general cheerfulness. But in that moment, her brilliant black eyes were filled with such concern that it wrenched Marnie's heart. If Georgie gave up on her, who else could possibly have any faith?
"What about the major? Major Chance?" Georgie said suddenly.
Marnie laughed bitterly.
"I doubt we'll be seeing him again," said Marnie. "Ah, well. Probably for the best. Let's face it, Georgie. Men want women like Delilah—sweet and innocent and soft and pretty. They don't want difficult girls like me."
"I don't think it's so simple at all. I find men to be most perplexing creatures," said Georgie. "They say women are the mysterious ones, but men have their own quirks and their own mysteries, just as we do. Who knows what they're truly thinking?"
"That is not very comforting, Georgie."
"Oh, you misunderstand me. I only mean to say that it is quite wrong to say all men want the same thing. I saw the way that major looked at you. I'd say you've not heard the last of him."
"Georgie, please. I bit him."
"I know. I saw the major when he came back inside—we all did."
To her surprise, Georgiana was neither appalled nor dismayed.
"But do you know what, Marnie? He didn't look angry. Not in the least. He was smiling. I think he liked you all the better for it."
Marnie looked at her friend. "You're not serious."
"I am perfectly serious," Georgie said. She took the queen from Marnie's hand, placed it on the board, and started the game by sliding a white pawn forwards. "Some men want meekness, gentleness, delicacy, that's true," said Georgie. "But some men want fire. And that's something you have in spades."
Marnie scoffed but found herself thinking over her friend's words all that night. She found she was still thinking about it through the days and weeks that followed.
Chapter 5
The next day, Marnie was determined not to make a single error in her speech or her behaviour. She rose in silence and allowed Mrs. Jones to bathe her.
She was dressed in the travelling clothes that Miss Robin's Privettes wore when going on an excursion out of the academy, a plain, white, high-necked gown and matching sash, with a grey travelling cloak and white bonnet. She wore no jewels and her hair was pulled back into a simple, low chignon.
No one was accompanying her on the visit. Mrs. Jones escorted her downstairs and then watched as an attendant handed her into the carriage.
"Behave yourself, won't you?" she said, a look of genuine concern on her face.
"Yes, Mrs. Jones," said Marnie.
The coach driver flicked his whip and the horses started. The carriage heaved into motion. Marnie shut her eyes when the gates of Miss Robin's closed behind her.
The carriage rumbled through London's streets. They seemed grey and cold, even in the nice neighbourhood of St John's Wood, which soon gave way to more grime, more crowds, and more smells. The stink of burning coal, rubbish, and the runnels of filth that ran down the gutters filtered into the carriage, making Marnie wrinkle her nose.
Her conveyance rolled on through one street and another, eventually wending its way to another respectable neighbourhood where the townhouses were uniform, white, with grey steps leading to their shining front doors.
The carriage stopped in front of one that was indistinguishable from the others.
"Here you are, miss," said the driver.
A pale footman, wearing a jacket with shining brass buttons, exited the house and handed her down from the carriage.
She looked at him, then looked again.
"Robert?" she said.
"Yes, miss?" he said.
"Wait—" said Marnie. She took another look at the townhouse. Oh, no, she thought. It's not possible—
"Marnie!"
The shrill, cheerful voice sent a bolt of alarm through Marnie's entire person.
Elspeth stepped forward onto the threshold.
"Oh, and don't you look well! Come here at once so that I may look at you, you darling girl. Go on—don't keep your sister waiting!"
With great trepidation, Marnie climbed the stairs and gingerly returned her elder sister's embrace. Elspeth had grown stouter since Marnie saw her, that much was certain—there was a bag of fat hanging beneath her chin. But she was glossy all over with health and comfort, and her dress was a fine peach silk.
"I hope you aren't too shocked? I told that headmistress of yours not to give my name. I made that a condition of our entire agreement. I just knew how delighted you'd be at the surprise!"
"It's lovely to see you, Elspeth," said Marnie mechanically, struggling to process what was happening.
"Elspeth—why, I believe that's Mrs. Talbot to you! No, no, I'm only kidding. Come in, come in."
Marnie looked around the entrance hall where she stood. It was crammed with furniture and decorations—side tables, stuffed benches, ornaments in the shape of milkmaids and cowherds, vases with tall, bright flowers. It made Marnie feel claustrophobic.
The main feature of the entrance hall was a portrait of the Talbot family, which had been commissioned from one of London's most fashionable painters. It hung on the far wall. Marnie could see how the painter had attempted to smooth Mr. Talbot's craggy face and give a kinder aspect to Elspeth's. Despite his efforts, the two children looked as spoiled as they were, while Mr. Talbot's face looked sly and greedy. Elspeth's smile was smug, and the rings crammed onto her fingers glittered.
"Usually, I'd invite you into the drawing room, but that seems like an odd thing to do, given you'll be employed by us! What a funny old thing. It's such a laugh! Isn't Father a perfect beast?"
"Father knows about this?" Marnie said.
"Lord, no. Not yet, anyway. I think, one day, I shall simply invite him to tea and watch his reaction when he sees you busily tending the nursery in a plain gown and a dear little cap! Ah, I do love a bit of sport. Come now. Reginald is waiting for us in his study."
Marnie, a sick feeling roiling through her stomach, followed her sister. Elspeth also had the wide behind that Marnie possessed, and it was with panicked revulsion that Marnie watched it sashay up the central staircase, turn left, and halt before a closed door.
Elspeth didn't knock before entering. Her husband, Reginald, was smoking at his desk, his shirttails out, his cravat untied. He coughed in surprise, then stood and hastily tucked his shirt into his trousers and buttoned them.
"This wife of mine will be the death of me!" he roared. "You and your dreadful tricks, Mrs. T! You'll be the death of me, I say!"
He barked a laugh, which soon became a hacking cough. Mr. Talbot was never seen without his pipe, and as a result, the room was filled with a low, blue-grey smoke. It gave a greyish cast to his skin and a brownish cast to his teeth. His
family were exceedingly wealthy, having earned their money through trading with America. Marnie didn't know the nature of Mr. Talbot's business, only that it was bound to be something as odious as he was, himself.
"And here's the help, eh?" he said. "Welcome, girl, welcome."
Mr. Talbot approached Marnie and plucked the pipe from his mouth to place a wet kiss on her cheek. Marnie forced herself to smile.
"I hope you'll give us the family rate," Mr. Talbot said, returning to his chair. "Governesses are charging like the devil these days, so when Mrs. T said she'd had a letter from your headmistress asking us to house you, I thought 'by golly, I think I can solve both our problems'. Two birds with one stone and all that. A lucky thing for you, isn't it? You'll be among family."
"Very lucky," said Marnie.
"Have a seat, dear," said Elspeth. "Let me bring the girls in to have a look at you. It's been so long since you've seen them—why, you'll hardly recognise the little dears!"
Soon, they were ushered into the room, and Marnie knew she would have recognised these particular children from one hundred paces away. They had their father's greedy sheen to their eyes and their mother's turned up nose.
"Girls, meet your new governess," Elspeth said, beaming and settling into an armchair.
The elder girl, Elizabeth, had fair, curling hair and a furious expression. She said, "Do you speak Italian? Do you play the harp?"
"No," said Marnie. "I have French and some knowledge of the piano."
She didn't mention how rudimentary that knowledge was—she had found the monotony of scales close to unbearable.
Marnie was startled when Elizabeth stamped her foot. "I don't like her, Mummy. Look at her ugly face. I want a pretty governess and one who speaks Italian. I want to learn the harp. You said I could!"
The other girl, Isabel—two years younger and with the same strawberry-blonde hair Marnie had—simply started screaming. Long, loud, single-note wails, each one lasting until the child ran out of breath and took a moment to drag fresh air into her lungs.
A Major of Marnie (Miss Robin's Academy Book 3) Page 6
