‘And I shall miss you both, very much. And you, Nurse.’
‘Oh, dearie, we have all grown so fond of you.’ The old woman shook her head and wiped away a tear. ‘It will seem strange without you, and what are the children going to do for their lessons?’
‘Yes,’ said Wilhelmina, sitting up. ‘You cannot go until Papa has found somebody else to teach us.’
‘I’m afraid I must, my love.’ She looked round as Thomas came into the room.
‘Well, I suppose you have told them,’ he said, observing their miserable faces.
Amy came running in behind him and went immediately to put her arms about Wilhelmina. ‘It is perfectly horrid, and I don’t want to go away from here,’ she said.
‘I d-don’t want you to go either,’ muttered Minna, her lip trembling. ‘You are my bestest friend.’
‘Perhaps you can write to one another,’ suggested Nurse.
Juliana said nothing. She had no intention of giving Damon her direction, wherever it might turn out to be. She could not be sure he would not come after her.
‘Well, we shall see,’ was all that she would say when Gwendoline pressed her.
‘And it means we won’t be going to the fair this afternoon,’ grumbled Thomas.
Gwen looked up.
‘No, and neither shall we, for Papa said we could only go if Juliana would escort us.’
Thomas turned to his sister. ‘Could we not stay for one more day, Ju, please?’
She had to steel herself to withstand the four pairs of eyes fixed beseechingly upon her.
‘I am afraid not, my dears. Never mind, there will be other fairs. Now, our coach is not due until twelve. We still have a little time—what would you like to do?’
‘We could finish the pictures for our journal,’ suggested Gwendoline.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Wilhelmina. ‘Then we shall have something with which to remember you.’
Juliana settled the children at the big table, but they were none of them inclined to work, and had achieved very little when Giles came in, frowning.
‘Juliana, I have just come from Papa. He says I am to take Gwen and Minna to the fair today because you are leaving us.’
‘Oh, that is famous,’ declared Juliana. ‘They were disappointed to think they would have to miss it.’
‘Yes, well, never mind that! I want to know why you are leaving, and why so suddenly?’
Juliana was studying Wilhelmina’s drawing and did not look up. ‘Goodness, such blunt questions,’ she said lightly. ‘I—I have received a very good offer and agreed with your papa that I will leave immediately.’
Amy looked up, about to speak, but a kick under the table from Thomas made her close her mouth again.
‘Well, if it is so, I suppose you must go as soon as possible,’ admitted Giles grudgingly. ‘But it is very sudden.’
Juliana straightened and summoned a tiny smile. ‘Sometimes that is best—I do not like long goodbyes.’
‘No, of course not.’ Giles looked down at his boots, then blurted out, ‘I shall be sorry to see you go.’
‘Thank you, Giles, but you will do very well without me, I am sure.’
He nodded, looked solemn for a few moments, then the twinkle returned to his eyes.
‘There is some good news today. Lady Ormiston is leaving, too.’
‘No!’ exclaimed Gwendoline.
‘Yes. She came to the study while I was with Papa and I heard her telling him that she was off to join Lord Ormiston in Scotland. She’s ordered her carriage and is even now preparing to set off. Good thing, too.’
‘Don’t you like her?’ asked Thomas.
Giles pulled a face.
‘Lord, no. Silly creature. Set fire to her curtains the other night: went into her dressing room to see to her maid, who had disturbed her with her coughing, and left her candle unattended. When she saw the flames she went screaming fit to burst to m’father, when anyone but a nodcock would have made at least some attempt to put out the flames. As it was, that dour-faced maid of hers pulled down the curtains and stamped on them, so that by the time Papa got to the room there was nothing for him to do.’
Juliana froze. Was that the reason Damon had gone to her room? Why had he not told her? Why had she not listened to him?
‘Where did you learn all this?’ asked Gwendoline, round-eyed.
‘From Papa. He was telling Sir Richard when I came upon them in the library yesterday. At first he didn’t see me, until Sir Richard indicated that I had come in, and Papa stopped, then he decided to continue, saying he thought it was as well if I knew what “that damn fool woman” had been doing—his words, Nurse, not mine,’ Giles added hastily as Nurse uttered a faint protest.
Juliana leaned on the back of Minna’s chair, hoping her knees would not buckle beneath her. She had been mistaken, but it was too late to go back—she had said she hated him. He could never forgive that. A leaden despondency was added to her misery.
‘So, I had best go and make sure the gig will be ready for us this afternoon,’ Giles continued. ‘Oh, and before I forget—Juliana, Papa says you are to see Brasher before you leave.’
‘So you will be able to buy those ribbons after all, Gwendoline,’ said Juliana with a smile, when Giles had left them.
‘Yes, but there will be no one to put them in my hair for me.’
Juliana thought it wise to ignore her grumbles, and did her best to turn their interest again to their drawing.
At twelve precisely the carriage rolled up at the door. Juliana tied the strings of her bonnet under her chin and hurried the children into the hall. She stepped outside to direct the footmen, who were putting her small trunk and portmanteau into the boot, and as she came back indoors she saw Major Collingham coming down the stairs, his children beside him.
‘Did you think to leave without saying goodbye?’ he barked.
‘I knew you would be at luncheon, and I said my goodbyes to Giles and the girls in the schoolroom.’
‘But you would not eat with us. True, it is only a cold collation, since all the servants are off to the fair, but it would have set you up for your journey.’
There was accusation in his tone, and because it was not without foundation Juliana could not meet his eyes.
‘Mrs Plumstead has packed up a hamper for us.’
She watched the children taking a polite leave of each other, their solemn little faces mirroring the grave looks of the adults. Wilhelmina was asking Amy if she had seen Lady Arabella, and Juliana was only just in time to stop the two girls running off in search of the doll.
‘There is no time for that, Amy, I am sorry. Enough now, we must go to the coach.’ She gave Amy a little push, then turned towards the Major. ‘Pray give my regards to Sir Richard for me—he is out riding, I believe.’
She went to follow Giles and the children out of the door, but Damon caught her arm.
‘You told the girls you have obtained another post,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Why did you not tell them the truth?’
She pulled herself free. ‘They worship you,’ she said. ‘I would do nothing to change that.’ She waited, her eyes fixed on the marbled floor.
Ask me to stay. Silently she begged him to speak. One word, one sign, and she would fall into his arms and admit that she had been wrong. If he loved her, surely he would not let her go. She remembered the night in Rushton Spencer when he had said he loved her—he had even threatened to take her by force rather than let her leave him. Then he had been desperate to keep her; now his very silence told her that his passion had died. Her resistance had been the attraction; once she had given in to him, he had lost interest in her. Stifling a sigh, Juliana turned and hurried outside, stooping to hug Gwendoline and Wilhelmina and to take Giles’s hand for a moment before she stepped quickly up into the carriage. Then the door was shut and they were moving away down the drive. Amy and Thomas hung out of the window, waving furiously, but Juliana dared not look back. Tears were very close, and in an
effort to drive them away she lay back against the squabs and closed her eyes.
From the doorway Damon watched the carriage bowling along the winding drive. He scarcely noticed Giles hurrying his sisters back inside to collect their cloaks, telling them that if they tarried he would be off to the fair without them. When they had gone, the silence settled about him as he watched the carriage disappear amongst the trees.
‘Damnation, have I missed her?’ Sir Richard was hurrying across the hall. ‘Plumstead told me when I came in that Miss Wrenn was leaving, but I thought I should have time to change out of my muddy clothes.’
Damon turned back to fix his eyes again on the wooded horizon.
‘You are too late, my friend. She is gone. I have lost her.’ His hands balled into fists. ‘I have lost her, Rick. She saw me coming out of Veronique’s room after the fire and thought—’
Sir Richard put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Nonsense. Miss Wrenn is a sensible young woman. Surely when you explained it all…’
‘I didn’t. I didn’t even try to explain it. I lost my temper.’ He rubbed his hand wearily across his eyes. ‘I was angry that she should doubt me. I don’t know what I said, something damnable…I have driven her away.’
‘Well, then, go after her, man. I have never known you at a loss with a woman before.’
‘This one is different.’
Sir Richard smiled. ‘You say that because you care for her. Go after her, Damon.’
‘If I thought there was a chance—’ He broke off and shook his head. ‘It is too late, my friend. I disgust her. When we said goodbye just now, she could not even look at me. She…. she hates me, and with good reason.’ He turned suddenly and drove the side of his fist against the doorpost. ‘She thinks I tricked her. Well, perhaps it is better this way—I am over a dozen years her senior. Let her find another, younger man, one more deserving of her than I could ever be.’ That thought could not be borne. He shook it off and drew himself up. ‘Enough. Come, Richard, there is something to celebrate at least. Did Plumstead tell you that Veronique has also quit the house? She went off to Scotland this morning.’
‘Has she, by God!’ Sir Richard cocked an eyebrow. ‘So soon after you refused to fall for her little seduction? Perhaps I have misjudged her—mayhap you were her only reason for coming here.’
Damon’s lip curled. ‘You think me that attractive, that she would follow me the length of the country to win me back?’
Sir Richard grinned. ‘Actually, no, my friend! My suspicion still stands, but there is little I can do about it at this moment.’
‘True.’ Damon pushed himself away from the wall and linked his arm through his friend’s. ‘Come on into the library. Giles is taking the girls to the fair, most of the servants have already set out, so we are left to our own devices. I suggest we get damnably drunk!’
‘Where are we going?’
Juliana roused herself. Amy was tugging at her sleeve. Blackthorpe and its park had long since disappeared and they were travelling through countryside she did not recognise. She took off her bonnet and tossed it aside, hoping it might ease her headache.
‘To Blackburn. I shall look for work there.’
Amy looked puzzled. ‘But I thought you already had a post.’
‘Silly, that was only what she told everyone,’ said Thomas. ‘So they would not worry about us. That’s correct, is it not, Ju?’
‘There is no need for anyone to concern themselves over us,’ she replied firmly. ‘We shall do very well.’
‘But you did not see Mr Brasher before you left, did you?’ persisted Thomas. ‘So we have no money.’
Juliana looked at their anxious faces and was determined to be cheerful. ‘I have my pearls to sell, and Papa’s watch. That will give us a little money until I can find work.’
‘Well, if you are going to sell your pearls, you might like to take these too.’ Thomas dug his hand into the pocket of his coat. ‘They are only glass, but quite pretty, so you might get something for them.’
Juliana stared. There on his open palm lay a pair of exquisite diamond earrings.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Thomas! Wh-where did you get them?’
‘I ought to have given them back to Minna, I know,’ he confessed, looking a little shamefaced, ‘but to be honest I had forgotten all about them until now.’
‘What pretty beads,’ said Amy, craning her neck to see them.
‘I don’t think they are beads,’ murmured Juliana. She looked closely at her brother. ‘Tell me where you found them, Tom. The truth, now.’
He flushed. ‘I didn’t steal them, if that’s what you think.’
Juliana managed a little smile. ‘No, of course not, but I must know where they came from.’
‘No, well, it was when I mended Minna’s doll. Giles had gone out, so I said I would look at it. The arm had come off, you may remember, and before I could mend it I had to take off the dress. That was when I found these earrings. They must have been caught up in the material in some way.’
Juliana was thinking quickly.
‘Could they—could they have been hidden inside the doll?’ she asked.
Thomas shrugged.
‘I suppose so, the body is hollow, but I did not notice where they came from, only that as I removed the dress they fell on to the workbench. I was in the workroom next to the stables at the time, and I didn’t want to leave them around, so I put them into my pocket, meaning to give them to Minna when I gave her the doll, but it was getting late, and I had to hurry to repair it and get her back before Minna went to bed and—well, I forgot all about the earrings.’ He looked up. ‘If you like, I will put them in a letter and post them back to Blackthorpe.’
Juliana picked up the earrings and looked at them. ‘I think they are rather too valuable to be sent in the post, Thomas. I think they are diamonds.’
‘Diamonds!’ He laughed. ‘That’s silly—who would give Minna such a thing? She is just a baby.’
‘Perhaps they belonged to her grandmama and she hid them in the doll at Kewhurst.’
‘Oh, Lady Arabella was never at Kewhurst,’ piped up Amy. ‘She was given to Minna in London.’
‘Oh?’ said Juliana. ‘How do you know that, Amy?’
‘She told me all about it. She and Gwendoline went with their aunt to visit the dressmaker, and one of the assistants gave Minna the doll to stop her crying.’
‘A dressmaker?’
Amy nodded.
‘Minna and Gwen didn’t like her because she took no notice of them, and spoke to their aunt in her funny French voice.’
Juliana sat back, her face pale. ‘She was French?’ she said at last.
‘Yes, Aunt Louisa says she is the best dressmaker in London.’
A succession of thoughts and ideas were running riot through Juliana’s head. If the dressmaker was so very fashionable, it was very likely that Lady Ormiston would know her. Her thoughts raced on—Lady Ormiston had left this morning, and Wilhelmina’s doll was missing…
‘We must turn back!’ She sat up and pulled the check string.
‘Back!’ the children cried out in unison and she held up a hand to stem their questions while she issued her instructions to the driver. When the carriage was moving again, she dropped the earrings into her reticule and sat back to find Thomas looking at her with anxious eyes.
‘I am sorry, Ju, I did not know they were diamonds, I never thought…’
‘And why should you?’ She patted his knee. ‘I shall give them to Sir Richard. He will know what to do with them.’
Amy clapped her hands. ‘I will be able to see Minna again!’
‘No, my love. You forget, Giles is taking the girls to the fair this afternoon. I shall stop only long enough to give the diamonds to Sir Richard, then we must be on our way again. But pray do not look so gloomy, my loves. Who knows, there may well be a reward for finding these jewels.’
‘A reward!’ said Thomas, brightening. �
��Then it should be mine, since I discovered them.’
‘Indeed it should,’ admitted Juliana, a glimmer of humour lightening her depression. ‘But perhaps you would be very good and let me borrow a little of it, just until I can establish myself, of course.’
Thomas drew himself up. ‘Don’t worry, I shall look after us all, since I am head of the household now.’
By the time the coachman had found a place to turn around and they were at the palings of Blackthorpe Hall, an hour had passed. Juliana called to the coachman to drive in through the woods.
‘We shall save a good twenty minutes if we take the back lane rather than drive all the way round to the front gates,’ she told the children. ‘I am not too proud to walk in through the housekeeper’s door.’
However, when the carriage had made its way up the muddy drive that led to the servants’ quarters, the house was strangely quiet.
‘It’s the fair, miss,’ said the footman as he opened the carriage door for her. ‘The master always lets the servants go off at mid-day to attend the fair.’
The tone of his voice indicated that he too should have been at the fair rather than escorting a governess and her family around the countryside. Juliana suppressed her inclination to apologise.
‘Pray stay here with the children,’ she said. ‘I shall only be a few moments and we can be on our way again.’
The outer doors at the back of the house were all locked, and she wondered if she would be obliged to go to the front door after all, but the coachman suggested she should try the side door leading in from the stable yard.
‘There’s a wicket gate into the yard in the wall over there, miss, and you should find a key to the side door underneath the bucket beside the doorway.’ The coachman touched his hat and gave her a fatherly smile. ‘It’s the way here at Blackthorpe, so we don’t have to wake up the porter every time we comes in late.’
Juliana found the key just as the driver had said. She had just unlocked the door when she heard the faint jangle of harness and the scraping of hooves upon gravel. She walked towards the arch and saw the back wheels of a travelling coach pulled up on the front drive. Moving cautiously forward, she could see the driver hunched in his seat, then came the sound of a loud, hacking cough from inside the coach. Juliana froze. Lady Ormiston’s maid was in the carriage. That could only mean that Veronique had returned.
More Than a Governess Page 22
