by Tanya Allan
“How did you find Spain?” I asked, changing the subject and sitting down again.
“Interesting, I never managed the language, but I found the people fine and fiery. I brought this back, in the hope that Katie or William would someday learn it,” he said, producing a guitar from a cupboard.
“How wonderful, a guitar!”
“You have seen one before?”
“Certainly, I had an uncle who travelled in Spain, and he brought one back,” I lied.
“Can you play?” he asked.
I didn’t know. In a different life, I had. I had asked for various musical skills to be downloaded into my construct. I hoped that the guitar was one of them.
I took the guitar and tested the strings. It was woefully out of tune, so I spent a few moments tuning it up.
I let my hands become familiar with the frets and strings, playing a couple of chords. It came flooding back; I could remember.
Recalling a Spanish dance piece, I played it, and was astounded that my skills were much enhanced, concluding that my download was successful.
When I finished, Roger was staring at me. Then he clapped his hands.
“Bravo. My word, is there anything you cannot do, Jane?”
“Oh, I am sure if you come to know me well, my inadequacies will become all too apparent,” I said, and started playing a twentieth century rock and roll song.
When I finished, I placed the guitar carefully in the corner of the room, and returned to my seat on the sofa, taking a sip of the wine.
“Would you allow me?” Roger said.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, confused.
“To come to know you better.”
I looked at him. He smiled, holding my gaze.
“If I am living here, I must assume you shall,” I said, not letting my eyes leave his.
He came and sat next to me, taking my hand once more.
“Jane, I find myself strangely drawn to you. I do not wish to be forward, yet neither do I wish to press my attentions on you if they are distasteful for you. But I find you a fascinating woman, so I would dearly wish to know you better.”
“You hardly know me, sir, or I you. But please be assured that your attentions are in no way distasteful to me,” I said, meaning every word.
He lifted my hand to his lips and I felt him kiss my fingers. Strange and unfamiliar sensations developed deep inside me, not unpleasant, yet faintly disturbing.
“Thank you, you have made me a very happy man,” he said.
The door opened and Groves announced that dinner was served.
We sat at either end of the long dining room table, and Roger carved the roast partridge. Groves brought me the plate, and then retired.
I picked up my plate, the place settings, and walked the length of the table to sit at Roger’s right hand.
“Not one jot!” I said, and he laughed.
We had a lovely meal, as he poured out his soul to me. He had gone to war with hope in his heart and excitement in his soul. However, after several years, he had returned a cynical and changed man. He told me of his triumphs and trials, the good points and bad ones. Then he told me of his anguish when his wife died.
“We married because our families wished it. She brought a fair dowry, and I brought her family some respectability. Our ancestors came over with William the Conqueror, you know?”
“Really?” I said.
“We grew to love each other, yet she was never a strong woman. I had always imagined a wife who shared in my interests, with whom I could ride, dance and hunt. She was too fragile for my interests, and then she bore Katie. She had three miscarriages after her, and having little William killed her. My greatest regret was never being able to get home before she died.”
I reached out and took his hand.
“I am sure she understood. I would have done, so you need feel no guilt,” I said.
He looked at me with a frown across his brow. “Do you really think so?”
I nodded, squeezing his hand.
“Oh, I pray to God you are right. I have felt so bad about it for so long.”
Groves came and cleared the table, viewing my proximity to the Major with one arched eyebrow.
Roger noticed and laughed. “Groves, you old fox, Miss Jane was comforting me as I poured out my woes about dear Marjorie,” he said.
“It is good to hear you laugh once more, sir,” the butler said.
“Then I shall have to do so more often.”
Groves left the room, returning with a fruit sponge, he served us both, and stepped back.
“Will there be anything else this evening, sir?”
“No, thank you Groves, you may retire.”
“Thank you, sir. Good night, Miss Jane, good night sir.”
“Good night Groves,” Roger said, so I smiled as he retired. “He is a good man,” he said.
“Yes, he seems very loyal. Has he been with you for long?”
“His father was my grandfather’s butler. It is a family tradition.”
We ate our sponge in silence. I was warm, well fed, in a comfortable home, with a man who wanted to take me to bed. I was about the happiest I had ever been. I was a million miles and hundreds of years away from Edward Ryan, and I didn’t miss him in the least.
I was making sure I had every last crumb from my bowl, when I noticed he was watching me. I blushed in spite of myself.
“You make me feel self-conscious,” I said, and he smiled.
“I am sorry; it is just that I have never met anyone quite like you.”
“That is just as well, I should hate it if I were not totally unique,” I said, smiling back at him.
“You make me smile. Everything you say is like a breath of fresh air.”
“Do I get extra pay for it?” I asked.
He laughed, a deep and rich sound, I liked it.
He took my hand again.
“Dear Jane, what have you done to me?”
“I don’t know. I assure you that I have not intentionally done anything.”
“Not only are you so beautiful, but you are so natural and so wonderfully fresh. I am so glad you came into our lives.”
I finished my wine, and squeezed his hand.
“I am too well aware that I am not good enough for you. So perhaps this is not too wise?” I said.
“Wisdom be damned. I thought you cared not one jot?”
“I don’t for myself, but for you, I care so much,” I said, and saw tears come to his eyes.
“Dear child. Know that I care only for you, and would never see you hurt.”
“You are too kind. But, I protest, sir, as I am hardly a child, and I do not deserve such.”
“Nonsense. You are so beautiful; you could have the pick of whomsoever you should desire.”
“I am content, sir, with where I am, and whom I am with.”
Roger seemed to slump, and I sensed he was crying.
I moved to hold him and his head fell to my breast. The tears came, and he began to sob. I stroked his head, just waiting for him.
At last, he seemed to regain some control, and looked up at me.
“I am sorry, Jane, these are the first tears I have been able to shed for my dear Marjorie. I have not known a woman’s touch since that time, and it is all too much.”
“You poor soul. I am humble that you should feel you may cry on me.”
He sat up, observing that his tears had made my dress damp.
“I am so sorry, for I have made a fool of myself.”
“Dear Roger, you did not. You showed me that you cared, and that is so important. I am only sad that you have carried the burden for so long.”
He smiled and stood up, blowing his nose on a large white handkerchief. The moment had passed, and I knew that I had better go to bed, or otherwise I would end up going to bed with him, and it was too soon.
I stood and bade him goodnight, as it had been a very long day.
He took my hand and kissed it one last time, but
his eyes said so much more. I knew that this man was mine if I so desired.
CHAPTER THREE
The Governess.
As Christmas approached, Katie and I developed a special relationship. She found that my lessons were unique and, as I had promised, they were fun too. For French, I had her label everything in the room with a small white paper label, with the French name thereon, and then test her by making a timed race to name as many object as possible. Then we added the verbs and adverbs, and put them all together.
For history, I taught her archery, so she learned all about the long bow, and the battles of Agincourt and Creçy. She took off her shoes and squelched her toes in the mud. That way she could feel what the actual archers felt, as they struggled to keep a good grip in the confusion of battle. I also taught her the rudiments of fencing. She was fast and supple and picked it up very quickly. One morning her father walked in as we practised, so he watched for a while, smiling all the time. Later, he asked me whether fencing was an appropriate sport for a girl.
“If it develops her hand and eye co-ordination, and gives her strong muscles, then can it be bad?” I retorted, to which he smiled and shook his head.
All was not plain-sailing, for we both had our bad days, as we were both strong willed females. I usually won, but paid the price, as her moods could often run for days. However, they became less frequent and less ferocious as time passed. Eventually, she realised that she couldn’t wear me down, so we became firm friends.
I told her different stories every night, sketching the characters as I went. I paid a silent tribute to the cartoon makers of the twentieth century. Roger would come and sit with us whenever he could, as Katie adored having him there.
Roger had a fair-sized stable, so I managed to obtain some riding breeches and boots for both Katie and myself. They were men’s and boy’s breeches, so I had to alter them for our different shapes. I designed and made loose culottes that fitted over the breeches, and looked more seemly, appearing almost as long skirts. We rode astride most of the time and she turned into a fair little horsewoman. Roger came out one day and rode with us. Of our riding style, he simply smiled and made no comment, but as his daughter jumped a five-barred gate without hesitation, he turned to me and doffed his hat.
I saved what little money I could from my salary, opening a bank account in the town. I had to have a letter of recommendation signed by Roger, as women were not permitted to have bank accounts without male sponsorship. I became known around the town as Katie’s governess, as I often took her walking through the market and we would run errands for the cook. I overheard through the servants chatter, that there was gossip afoot that I was a gold digger after marrying the good Major.
I told Roger of what I had heard, and judging by the reactions of the staff, no one either cared or believed it. He was concerned whether I was upset, so when I told him I cared not one jot, we laughed together. Both of us, I think, actually wishing the rumours were true, and not caring what the gossips said. I suspected that Maud was probably responsible, so felt rather sad for the silly woman.
Roger began to court me in earnest. He would leave small gifts for me at the dinner table, or on my pillow - a set of earrings or a bangle, always something pretty and relatively inexpensive. I was acutely aware that although of the gentry, he wasn’t wealthy. He had a small income from invested inheritance, but it amounted to a few hundred pounds a year. We dined together most evenings, and he was always the charming host. He never broke down again, but he was noticeably more cheerful.
Katie had changed too, as we sat in the schoolroom one very wet December day, she stopped reading and came to sit at my feet.
“Jane?”
“Yes dear?”
“Do you remember telling me about the special secret?”
“Of course.”
“I think I know what it is.”
“Oh?”
“It is that giving is so much better than taking.”
I smiled. “How did you find out that?”
“By watching you.”
“Oh?”
“You never take, but you give of yourself all the time. You give to Daddy, you give to me, and you even give to Aunt Maud. You never take, yet everyone loves you and gives you back whatever you need, but you never have to ask for.”
I smiled. “Well done! You see, it is so much easier to give, so everyone naturally responds in kind. The real secret is love. If you give in love, then so you shall receive, but you are right, it starts with giving. You are no longer a selfish little girl who wants to take all the time. You have found the joy of giving, and does it make you feel better?”
“Oh yes. I am much happier. I can see why those other governesses hated me so.”
“I am glad, but they didn’t hate you. I just think they were frustrated because you were hurting, yet they could not seem to be able to help you. Because you are a lovely girl, and I do love you,” I said.
“Are you going to marry Daddy?” she asked out of the blue. I flushed slightly and smiled.
“He hasn’t asked me,” I said.
“If he did, would you?”
“I don’t know. Do you think I should?”
“It is up to you. He loves you, I think.”
“What makes you think that?”
“When you are in a room, he looks at you with a soppy smile on his face. Whenever you say anything, he laughs or smiles. You have changed his life too.”
“I am glad, no one should be sad.”
“Do you love him?”
I looked at this little girl, who was suddenly so wise.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I think you do. You see, I have watched you too. And whenever he walks into the room you look at him and wait for his eyes to meet yours, and then you both smile the same secret little smile.”
So much for being a child.
“I think then, I just might,” I said, and she grinned at me.
“I should like you as my mama,” she said, returning to her desk, where she continued to read.
My mind was in a whirl. I had a job to do, and yet I had to survive, to establish a secure and safe cover. I thought of Roger, and smiled, as his smile would warm my heart. I was in danger of forgetting why I was here. It was just so wonderful being Jane. Even if I’d sell my soul for a Jacuzzi.
I spent most days scouring the newspapers for any signs of strange activities. I had no real idea what I was looking for, and my training had been vague. “You will know it when you see it,” they had said. But with Roger becoming more obvious in his affection for me, this was a complication I had not bargained on; certainly not so early in my mission.
We had studiously avoided close intimate contact since that first evening, as it was not proper for us, despite our personal feelings regarding the mores of society. The last thing either of us wanted was any scandal.
He had gone to London on business a few days ago, leaving me in charge of the household. Groves and I understood each other, so we treated each other with respect. He believed that I was going to marry the Major, so therefore he saw me as the future Mrs De Lambert, and his employer. I recognised his loyalty and understood that his responsibility would never be usurped.
The nurse, Miss Riggs, was a pleasant, if rather a dim woman, but little William was devoted to her, and she to him. He was a bright boy. I would spend time with him, so he knew that whenever I was there, he would get some fun, either a piggyback ride, or a funny song.
I constantly amazed myself, as I was Jane, there was nothing in my personality or character that was Edward Ryan, yet I knew that my old skills and training lay beneath the surface. It was my body that gave me the most pleasure. Not a day went past that I did not awaken with the most enormous grin, as I touched myself, revelling in my glorious femininity - my smooth limbs, my full breasts and that jewel of my gender, that luxurious cleft that nestled between my legs. I yearned for Roger to make me complete.
Every night
, I quietly hoped he would come to my room and make me his. However, every night, I would be disappointed, and resort to pleasuring myself by hand, whilst imagining what he would do to me.
The hardest thing I had to deal with was the lack of basic facilities that I had always taken for granted. A hot bath was a major operation, with vast amounts of hot water being heated and carried in jugs to the bathroom. I became used to washing with only a small amount of water every day. I would kill for a hot shower.
So much so that on a visit to Abingdon one day, I visited the blacksmith and commissioned him to make me certain pipes and cylinders. I was aware that certain modern conveniences were in the future, but I was adamant that the least I could do would be to make a working shower.
I spent much of my spare time working on my wardrobe. I was reluctant to spend my carefully saved money, and so I worked on Marjorie’s old clothes, altering many fine dresses and outfits. I had to visit the cobblers, to have three pairs of boots made. One for riding, as mentioned, and two for walking and everyday wear. I also bought a few pairs of high-heeled shoes, just in case I had occasion to be elegant.
I made up my own make up box, with mascara brushes and pencils, lipstick and the like. I made some decent eye shadow, and on another visit to Abingdon, had my ears pierced so I could wear some pretty earrings that Roger gave me.
My long golden blonde hair, I wore up, only letting down at night. I slept in the nude, enjoying the feel of the linen sheets on my skin. About four weeks after my arrival, I felt rotten, guessing correctly that I was about to bleed. I cursed the fact that tampons were a few hundred years in the future, as I struggled with the towels. Luckily, my efficient body was not a heavy bleeder, so after a couple of days, I virtually stopped. I wondered about my fertility, or lack of it. In a way, I should like to experience pregnancy and childbirth.
Roger returned from London in a very good mood. After the children were in bed, he once more asked me to dine with him. I accepted, feeling quite excited.
We had a very nice roast duck and, as usual, my place was set to his right, to save me moving.
He told me two things that excited him; one was that his business deal had been successful, so he was now a part owner of a new industry, a canning factory.
