More Than a Governess

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘I have tried to keep out of your way,’ she said. ‘It would be best if I did not come down to the drawing room tomorrow night….’

  ‘No, you must be there. Frances wants to talk to you about the children.’ He raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Promise me one thing: you will not leave the house again unaccompanied. Until I know why Minna was abducted, I would not put any of you at risk. My people will not take it amiss; I have told them something of the danger, and asked them to be on the watch for strangers.’

  ‘Very well, sir. But may I take the children on to the moors? I would like them to sketch the house from the hills.’

  He turned, saying over his shoulder, ‘Yes, yes, as long as you take Fewell or one of the footmen with you.’

  Juliana watched him walk away and felt her heart sinking. This was intolerable: she must find another post. How were they ever to bear this torture until September?

  Chapter Sixteen

  High winds and frequent heavy showers put an end to any hopes of going out of doors the following day and Juliana kept the children in the schoolroom for most of the morning. Thomas sulked at first, because Giles had asked him if he wanted to go out rabbiting, but Juliana was firm—Thomas was behind on his lessons and must stay indoors. A diversion was caused shortly after luncheon when a large parcel was brought up to the schoolroom.

  ‘It is addressed to you, Juliana,’ cried Gwendoline, taking the package from the footman and carrying it to the table. ‘And there’s one of Papa’s visiting cards tucked under the string, look.’ She lifted it out and turned it over to read the message scrawled on the back. ‘Louisa has sent this for you,’ she read. ‘You will oblige me by wearing it this evening.’

  ‘It is the new dress Aunt Louisa has had made up for you,’ said Wilhelmina. ‘To replace the one Gwen spoiled.’

  ‘Yes, well, never mind that,’ said Gwendoline hastily. ‘Will you open it now?’

  Juliana smiled. ‘Why don’t you open it for me?’

  ‘I’ll fetch a knife,’ said Thomas, running to the desk.

  With Amy and Minna looking on, Thomas cut through the string and Gwendoline carefully peeled away the paper to reveal a large printed box. She threw back the lid and pulled out a long, creamy dress packed in layers of tissue paper.

  ‘Oh, it is lovely!’ breathed Amy as Gwendoline shook out the material and held it up for inspection.

  Juliana caught her breath. The gown was made of the finest muslin and seemed to float on the air. The frilled hem was decorated with pink ribbon and appliquéd acanthus leaves, with a matching decoration around the deep neckline and tiny puff sleeves.

  ‘Oh, I cannot wear it!’ she whispered, pressing her hands to her cheeks.

  ‘Of course you can,’ said Gwendoline, holding the gown against herself and taking a few skipping steps across the room. ‘It is perfectly exquisite.’

  ‘That is just it,’ sighed Juliana. ‘It is far too fine for me.’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ declared Amy, ‘you will look beautiful.’

  ‘But I am still in mourning for Papa.’

  Wilhelmina spread her hands. ‘Aunt Louisa did not know that,’ she said.

  ‘The Major insists that you wear it,’ said Thomas, waving the visiting card. ‘Besides, when Papa died and we had no money for mourning clothes, you said people in straitened circumstances should not worry about their dress, as long as their grief was sincere.’

  Juliana frowned. ‘Your memory is far too good, Thomas,’ she said severely. She took the gown from Gwendoline and carefully folded it back into the box. ‘No,’ she said, trying not to sigh, ‘my grey silk will be much more suitable for this evening.’

  ‘Oh no, please, Juliana!’ Gwendoline caught her hand and gazed up at her imploringly. ‘If you are taking us down to meet Lady Frances, please wear your new dress. Lady Frances is always so…so bang-up prime that you will want to look your best!’

  ‘Gwendoline, where in heaven’s name did you pick up that phrase?’ demanded Juliana, trying to sound severe. ‘If Thomas taught you that—’

  ‘No, no, it was Giles,’ said Gwendoline quickly. ‘But that’s not the point—Nurse is always telling us that Lady Frances is terribly modish.’

  ‘And she is an earl’s daughter,’ put in Wilhelmina.

  ‘Yes,’ nodded Gwendoline. ‘So surely you would not wish to look like a dowd tonight?’

  Remembering her encounter with Lady Frances, Juliana was aware that she desperately wanted to look her best that evening. She tried one last argument. ‘But I have no gloves or slippers to match.’

  ‘Yes, you have!’ cried Amy, diving into the box. ‘Lady Varley has sent you some.’ She held up a pair of shell-pink slippers and matching long gloves.

  ‘And a fan, too,’ added Wilhelmina, who had been rummaging through the packaging.

  ‘How—how kind of Lady Varley,’ uttered Juliana in failing accents.

  ‘So you see, you have no excuse not to wear it,’ concluded Gwendoline.

  Juliana looked at the happy, expectant faces around her and capitulated.

  Juliana stared at her reflection.

  ‘I suppose it will do,’ she sighed.

  ‘Do?’ cried Nurse, bustling around the room behind her. ‘You look as fine as fivepence, and no denying it!’

  ‘The children are behaving as if this is some sort of special treat for me.’

  ‘And so it is: you have the perfect opportunity to wear your new gown. They are very much looking forward to going downstairs; they have heard so much about Lady Frances and at last they are going to meet her.’ She sighed. ‘It was said she would have married the Major first time round, if he had not set his heart on Harriet Blakeney. Now, well…he’s a widower and she’s a handsome widow; ’tis only natural they should think of marriage.’

  ‘Yes.’ Juliana felt as if a lump of lead was lodged in her chest. She squared her shoulders. ‘Are the children ready, Nurse? It is time to take them downstairs.’

  ‘Aye, Miss Juliana, they have been ready and waiting these ten minutes past.’

  Juliana cast another look in the mirror. ‘The neck is so low; if only I had a shawl to put about me…’

  ‘Nonsense, you look positively lovely.’ Nurse came over and kissed her cheek. ‘Now off you go, dearie. Keep your head up, and smile; you look as fine as any lady, I promise you.’

  With these words of support ringing in her ears, Juliana called to Gwendoline and Wilhelmina to join her, adjured Thomas and Amy to be good and set off for the drawing room. Plumstead, the Major’s butler, was waiting to open the door for them.

  After the gloom of the main staircase and hall, the drawing room was glaringly bright. The rain clouds had given way at last to a blue sky and the evening sun blazed in through the long windows, filling the room with a dazzling, golden light. Juliana stopped in the doorway, blinking. When her vision cleared, she observed that the dinner party had been a small one. There were only two ladies present: Lady Frances Ridlington and an older lady whom she guessed was Countess Mattishall, Lady Frances’s mother. Besides the Major and his son, the only other gentleman was a cheerful-looking man in a green frock-coat. Earl Mattishall, she concluded.

  Major Collingham came forward to greet her. ‘So you came.’ He added in a low voice, ‘I wondered if you would heed my request.’

  ‘Request, sir?’ Juliana murmured, bringing the children into the room. ‘I thought it more in the nature of an order.’

  ‘And you are wearing your new gown.’ The Major continued as if he had not heard her. ‘I knew it would suit you; Louisa has such excellent taste.’

  She blushed, and could not think of a reply, but none was necessary for he was already taking his daughters forward to introduce them to Lady Frances. She immediately embraced them and presented each of the girls with a small, elegantly wrapped package. She smiled down at them.

  ‘Now you must open them immediately, and tell me if you like your gifts.’

  The bows were
untied and the wrapping speedily torn away.

  ‘Ooh, a stocking purse!’ cried Wilhelmina, holding up a long knitted tube ornamented at each end with coloured beads. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

  ‘My cousin-companion Beatrice made it,’ explained Lady Frances. ‘She is for ever knitting, so I thought she might produce something useful for me.’

  ‘And I have a brooch,’ said Gwendoline, holding the ornament on her hand. ‘Look, Papa, emeralds, fashioned like a bow of ribbon. How pretty, thank you.’

  ‘They are only paste, so you may be easy, Damon,’ said Lady Frances. ‘I know how careless children can be. If it is broken or lost, it is of no great moment.’

  Gwendoline opened her mouth to protest, but Juliana caught her eye and urged her to silence with the tiniest shake of her head.

  Major Collingham took Lady Frances by the hand. ‘You are very kind to think of them,’ he said, raising her fingers to his lips.

  Lady Frances inclined her head, and gave a little smile. ‘I am glad they like them. I trust Giles is as happy with his sketch block and pastels.’ She raised her voice as she spoke, and directed a look of enquiry towards the young man, who was sitting in one corner.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he said, flushing slightly. ‘Thank you, ma’am, very useful. Although it is Gwen who is the artist.’

  But Lady Frances was not listening. She was giving the Major an arch smile.

  ‘Having no brothers of my own, I have no knowledge of just what a young boy would like.’

  ‘It was very good of you to think of the children at all,’ he replied.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Giles said again. He rose. ‘Papa, if you will excuse me, one of the pointers picked up a thorn while we were out this afternoon, and, although I pulled it out, I want to make sure there is no infection.’

  With a bow to the company Giles strode to the door, but the glance he gave Juliana as he passed was eloquent of the relief he felt to be escaping from the drawing room. Juliana was moving away to a quiet corner when she was called back by Lady Frances.

  ‘Miss Wrenn, I shall not allow you to hide yourself away. You must come and sit over here, where I can talk to you without having to shout across the room. Mama, this is Miss Wrenn, the children’s governess. You will recall I mentioned her.’

  Juliana made her curtsy towards the large, iron-haired lady sitting in majestic state in a winged chair and the man in the green frock-coat, standing behind her.

  ‘My parents are paying me a short visit before they go off to the Continent,’ continued Lady Frances. ‘It was so fortunate that they arrived in time to accompany me here, Damon, for it means that I could give Beatrice the night off.’ She gave a tinkling little laugh. ‘So tiresome she must find it to follow me everywhere.’

  ‘Nonsense, my love, I am sure she is very glad to repay you for taking her in.’ Lady Mattishall returned her attention to Juliana, looking her up and down in a considering way. ‘So, Major, Frances tells me you had three governesses before Miss Wrenn.’

  The children had come to sit beside Juliana on a sofa, and she was aware of Gwendoline’s anxious glance at her father.

  ‘Yes,’ he said shortly. ‘They did not suit.’

  ‘I have always considered it most important that children are taught correctly,’ declared Lady Mattishall. ‘A really good governess is a very rare thing. Miss Wrenn, you do not look to be long out of the schoolroom yourself—I suppose you must have sufficient experience for your position?’

  ‘I like to think so, ma’am,’ Juliana replied coolly.

  ‘The children like her, at all events,’ added the Major.

  ‘The children’s wishes in this matter are of little importance,’ stated Lady Mattishall with majestic finality.

  Juliana closed her lips firmly to suppress her retort, reminding herself that it was not her place to express an opinion.

  ‘Oh, fie on you, Mama,’ cried Lady Frances playfully, ‘I vow you would have us think you an ogre, but I know you would not wish any child to be miserable. I remember I was very happy when I was at school.’ She turned to Juliana.

  ‘Major Collingham tells me that your younger brother and sister participate in the lessons, Miss Wrenn. Do you not find that difficult? I mean…’ she gave another little laugh ‘…do you insist they call you Miss Wrenn when you are teaching them?’

  ‘They call her Juliana, as do we,’ put in Wilhelmina, who was playing with the shells on her new purse.

  Lady Frances raised her finely arched brows. ‘Indeed? Is that not a little…irregular? Does not the lack of respect engender a lack of discipline?’

  ‘Not at all,’ returned Juliana. ‘I find they all mind me very well.’

  ‘Perhaps they do, for now, but you have been with them for, what, a couple of weeks.’ She raised her eyes to Major Collingham. ‘I am surprised at you, sir, allowing such laxity. I cannot think that you, as an army man, approve.’

  The Major shrugged. ‘I leave the running of the schoolroom to Miss Wrenn. It is, after all, why I employ her. Lord Mattishall, I have ordered coffee to be brought in, but there is a very fine cognac here that I think you will like…’

  Lady Frances accepted the Major’s rebuff without demur and began to talk with her parents about their plans to tour the continent.

  ‘Think of it, Damon,’ she said. ‘Paris, then Switzerland in the summer months, and for the winter, Naples and Rome! How I would love to see Rome.’

  Lord Mattishall chuckled as he accepted his glass of brandy from Major Collingham. ‘Aye, my little puss likes to be on the move—London, Brighton, wherever society is at its liveliest.’

  ‘And what of the country?’ asked the Major.

  ‘Oh, one tires of the country quicker than anything,’ said Lady Frances, rising. ‘Unless, of course, one is kept well entertained.’

  She smiled at the Major, who raised his glass to her.

  ‘Then we must do our best to amuse you.’

  Lady Mattishall questioned Juliana about her family, and although she thought some of the lady’s questions impertinent, she answered truthfully, glad that she need not give her attention to the little group in the corner, where Lady Frances was conducting a lively conversation with the two gentlemen. Once the coffee was finished Juliana sought leave to take the children away. The Major gave his permission and she prompted the children to bid the guests goodnight.

  ‘Lady Frances really is beautiful,’ said Wilhelmina as they trooped up the stairs.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Gwendoline. ‘Just as Papa told us she would be. Did you notice her gown? The bodice studded with pearls and little embroidered roses all round the hem and sleeves.’

  ‘Just like a fairy princess,’ breathed Wilhelmina. ‘And she gave me a purse, even if I have no pennies to put in it at the moment.’

  ‘That was very kind of her,’ said Juliana.

  Wilhelmina turned to her sister. ‘Do you like your brooch, Gwen? It looks very well against your gown.’

  Gwendoline looked down at the bow-shaped ornament pinned to her bodice. ‘Yes, it is very pretty.’

  ‘Tomorrow you shall both write a thank-you note to Lady Frances; then she will see how neat is your handwriting.’ And she will know that I am teaching them something, she added silently.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The following week dragged by. The rigours of the journey north paled for Juliana as she struggled to maintain a cheerful demeanour while an aching unhappiness grew within her. She took her meals in the schoolroom, sending the children down to the drawing room each evening with Nurse. Her only glimpse of Major Collingham was from the schoolroom windows. In fair weather or foul the Major rode out every day, and every day Juliana stood by the cracked window pane and watched him trotting out of the yard and cantering through the park on his powerful black hunter. She tried to tell herself that he was merely riding over his own lands, but it was difficult to continue with this comforting thought when Nurse made constant allusions to the changes soon to come to Bla
ckthorpe.

  ‘It is a match, you mark my words,’ she said to Juliana. ‘He will soon propose to Lady Frances, I am sure.’

  The children had gone to bed and they were alone in the schoolroom. Juliana did not reply, but continued to tidy the room, putting away the books and returning the globe to its place on the top of a large cupboard. Nurse lowered herself into the rocking chair by the hearth and gave a contented sigh.

  ‘I have always said it’s time the master married again. It’s not natural for a man to live alone, and the children need a mother. I don’t deny that he was head over heels in love with Miss Harriet, but it is eight years now since the poor lamb died.’

  ‘Lady Frances is a very suitable match,’ remarked Juliana, feeling that some response was required.

  ‘Aye, that she is, and it’s not as if the master will be marrying her for her wealth alone, for Lady Frances is an accredited beauty, and that’s enough to gladden any man’s heart—oh, Miss Wrenn, now you’ve dropped the chalks on the floor. Dear me, let me help you…’

  ‘No, no, it will not take me a moment.’ Juliana dropped to her knees and began to gather up handfuls of chalks. ‘So careless, I do not know what came over me.’

  ‘Why, my dear, you are tired, and no wonder, when you have been obliged to keep those children occupied indoors these past few days. Take yourself off to bed now, Miss Wrenn; there’s nothing here that won’t wait for the morning.’

  Juliana took Nurse’s advice, but it was long before she slept that night. It was not enough to hide herself away from Major Collingham; she was living in his house, there were reminders of him everywhere, his whip and gloves discarded in the hall, his portrait in the gallery—she could even sense his personality in the fabric of the house, with its dark panelled corridors and the rooms full of vibrant colour, as bold and energetic as the man himself. And then there were the girls. She had been told that both girls had inherited their mother’s beauty, but Juliana could see the Major in the tilt of a head, a sudden, fleeting expression, or in Gwendoline’s granite-grey eyes, so like her father’s that Juliana’s heart would clench in despair and longing for what she could never have. Then there was Thomas; her little brother slipped away from the schoolroom as often as he could to help out in the stables or to join Giles for his sparring lessons with the Major. He returned from these forays in high spirits and eager to talk. Thomas declared that Major Collingham was true as a gun, never talking down to one and a good teacher. His conversation became littered with things the Major had said. Juliana endured it all with a calm smile, but each mention of the Major stung her like salt on an open cut. She would not for the world dissuade Thomas from confiding in her, and she was wise enough to realise that if he was looking to Major Collingham for his model, she could not wish for a better example for him to follow. Juliana therefore struggled to overcome her own unhappiness, comforting herself with the thought that she need only endure life at Blackthorpe until September, or the Major’s marriage, whichever came the sooner.