A Governess for the Brooding Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  Had she described herself as the Honorable Miss Georgette Darrington, then perhaps he might not have forgotten it quite so readily. However, Georgette knew that when one was penniless and homeless, to describe oneself in such a way was simply ridiculous.

  “Darrington. Georgette Darrington,” she said, a little impatiently.

  “Yes, of course,” he said and smiled at her. He had rather a long nose, and his small, beady eyes were quite close together. All in all, Georgette rather thought that he looked like some sort of bird of prey. “And please do take a seat, Miss Darrington,” he insisted again, this time holding a chair out for her.

  “Thank you, Mr Winstanley.”

  Georgette had only ever heard of employment registries because that was where her father tended to procure servants for his own household. And he had always referred to such establishments as servant registries because, in truth, that was exactly what they were. Everybody of her acquaintance referred to them as servant registries, and she could not help thinking that Mr Winstanley was somehow trying to give himself airs or at least give his little establishment airs, at any rate.

  When she had first told her dearest friend, Henrietta Sheridan, of the dreadful circumstances in which she found herself, she had barely been able to speak the words. When she had finally come to tell Henrietta that she intended to find a good servant registry and offer her services in the hope of employment, she had simply cried. And Henrietta had cried also.

  “Is it really so very bad, Georgette?” Henrietta had said, dabbing at her eyes with a crisp white handkerchief as Georgette herself did the very same.

  “It is as bad as it can possibly be, Henrietta. The house in which we now sit in is soon to be sold to the highest bidder so that my father’s gambling debts might be paid off.”

  “But surely there will be something left?” Henrietta had said hopefully.

  “The attorney rather thinks that the proceeds from the sale will just about cover my father’s debts. There will be nothing left.”

  “And must you really go to a servant registry office?” Henrietta had said, stumbling over the words.

  “I have talked the whole thing out with Mr Wharton, and he can see no other path to choose. After all, I have no family. I have no near or distant cousins, nor anybody with whom I might stay. If I do not seek work as a governess, I shall have nothing. At least as a governess I shall, if nothing else, have a roof over my head and food to eat.”

  “And, in truth, you will not be treated as one of the servants.” Henrietta, good friend that she was, had hurriedly dried her eyes and done what she could to appear optimistic.

  “No, I shall not be exactly treated as one of the servants, but I shall not be one of the household either. I shall be neither one thing nor the other, shall I? Is that not the very tragedy of the governess?”

  “I am sure that it would be far worse to be one of the servants, Georgette. At least you will be able to study and have pride in the fact that you are teaching all which you yourself have learned. You will be an educator, my dear.”

  “Oh, Henrietta, whatever am I going to do without you?” Georgette had said, smiling through her tears. “Who will pretend that all shall be well when I am alone and do not have you with me?”

  “I am not pretending, my dear. And even if we are parted, I shall write to you constantly. We shall still be friends, Georgette, wherever you are.”

  “And I fear you shall be my only friend, Henrietta.”

  “But you have so many friends and acquaintances, my dear Georgette. You really must not think that way.”

  “Oh, Henrietta. When news of my misfortune is all over London, I shall be friendless. No young lady wants me as a reminder of what a sudden change in fortunes looks like. And none of them shall know what to say to me, so would choose not to speak to me at all than to have to suffer the awkwardness of such a conversation. My friends are not all as you are, Henrietta. You are a true friend, and that is all.”

  “So, Miss Darrington, what sort of work would you be looking for?” Mr Shelford Winstanley brought Georgette back to the here and now with his curiously high-pitched voice coupled with the dreadful scraping of his chair as he drew it back.

  “Governess,” Georgette said a little sharply, and then thought better of it. After all, she very much needed Mr Winstanley. Her pride was telling her that he ought to have known by her mode of dress and obvious genteel upbringing that she was not seeking a position as a housekeeper, but she knew she was simply being sensitive and that her sensitivity would do her no good in the end. “I am looking for work as a governess, Mr Winstanley.” She attempted a polite smile.

  “Of course,” he said, smiling back and seemingly unaware of her poor humour. “And have you recently left a position?” He leaned forward and, as he tipped his head down a little, Georgette thought his nose looked even longer.

  “No, Mr Winstanley. I have not left a position, nor have I ever had one. I have not worked before, you see.”

  Georgette saw a smile pass fleetingly across his lips. In her world, never to have worked was a sign of status. In the world of Shelford Winstanley, it was likely a sign of uselessness. For a moment, Georgette pondered the differences of class. Work was unheard of in one, and its lack frowned upon in another. Well, since she was very much entering a lower social status, then she would have to accept all that came with it.

  “Oh, I see.” From the look on his face, Georgette knew that Mr Winstanley was finally gathering that her circumstances had taken a sudden and dramatic downward turn.

  No doubt, he had seen many a well-bred young lady who had suffered a similar fate coming through his doors.

  “But I can assure you that I have a first-rate education, Sir,” Georgette said, somewhat defensively.

  “I have no doubt, Miss Darrington.” Mr Winstanley smiled reassuringly. “And everybody has to start somewhere, do they not?” She knew he was trying to make her feel better but, in truth, it was not working.

  “Indeed,” she said. “So tell me, do you have anything suitable?”

  “At the moment, I have filled all of the governess requirements from my clients,” he said, and Georgette felt her heart sink. Once again, she was having her time wasted, and she knew that she had none left to lose. “All but one, that is.”

  “Oh, so you do have a suitable position?” Georgette knew that she had snapped a little but could not quite take to his way of doing things. After all, if he had a suitable position, then why not simply say so?

  “I have a position, Miss Darrington, but whether it is suitable or not, I shall leave to your own discretion to discover.”

  “What exactly do you mean, Mr Winstanley?”

  “I have a position on my books which has been there almost continually for the last six months. I have filled it three times, and no less than three governesses have left the position within weeks of arrival. To be perfectly honest, this is the first time that I have been utterly frank in that regard, but I can see no reason for being any other way. You see, I rather fear that the three governesses I sent out there were quite unprepared for what they found and, as such, were rather disquieted by the whole thing and very quickly returned to me in search of other positions.”

  “Goodness me, whatever has gone so very wrong on three occasions? Surely there is something wrong with the place?” Georgette said, her mouth going a little dry as her common sense began to tell her that this was her only hope.

  “As I understand it, the children in question are not the problem. Rather, it is the employer himself. He has rather an intimidating manner and is little interested in solving any problems which a new governess might find in her new position.”

  “Such as?” Georgette said, not keen to be flannelled upon the subject.

  “Such as problems with other staff members. There is, I believe, a children’s nurse who was particularly awkward and a certain amount of isolation for the governess to endure.”

  “Is that not common for
a governess? Not the awkward nurse, I mean, but rather the isolation. After all, the governess is neither fish nor fowl, is she? She is a woman of breeding with no money and therefore does not fit well with either the servants or the master.”

  “I see that you have a somewhat pragmatic approach to the whole thing, Miss Darrington; a quality that will, undoubtedly, serve you well if you choose to take this particular position.”

  “What else can you tell me about the family?”

  “The master of the house is not father to the children, but rather their guardian. As I understand it, he is not a particularly willing guardian, and it was a responsibility that he never sought. There are two little girls of around four or five years; twins, no less.” He paused for a moment. “As to the position itself, it is fairly standard fare for a governess. You are to teach the children the three Rs, as you might expect. On top of reading, writing, and arithmetic, you must also teach the children the typical run of accomplishments. French, piano lessons, watercolour painting, poetry. Whatever you have at your disposal as far as accomplishment training is concerned.”

  “Well, I have all four of those things at my disposal, Sir, and more besides. And as for the three Rs, I shall have no problem whatsoever in teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic,” Georgette said, thoughtfully. “And what are my conditions to be if I choose to take the position?” As nice as it was to discover that she had all of the necessary learning of her own to be able to pass on, the practicalities of her day-to-day life and her payment was going to be really rather more important to her, at least for the time being.

  “Well, I must say that the position is particularly well paid. Eighty pounds a year is being offered.” He smiled at her, and Georgette could hardly believe that he was, indeed, smiling.

  “Eighty pounds a year,” she said, her tone entirely flat. In truth, she could not believe that she would have so little.

  “Miss Darrington, I realize that this is the first time that you have undertaken such a thing, but I must tell you that the going rate for a governess is something more akin to twenty pounds a year.”

  “Twenty pounds a year?” she said, incredulously. “That is what my father paid the servants.”

  “Well, the governess gets a little more than the servants, but ordinarily not very much. And sometimes, there is nothing to choose between the wage of a servant on the upper scale of things and a new governess.”

  “Really, I had no idea.”

  “But your conditions would be rather better, I feel sure. You would not necessarily be sleeping in servants’ quarters. Obviously, you would not be integral to the main living area of the house, but you would certainly be set a little apart from the other staff.” He smiled again.

  It was the very idea of being set a little apart that gave Georgette the very worst feeling. Being set apart would be a very good way of ensuring that she was never accepted by the other staff. And, in truth, she was not sure she would have a great deal in common with them even if she were not set apart.

  All in all, Georgette knew that the life of the governess was a life of limbo. A woman of good breeding suspended in a world where she could neither progress on her own account nor marry suitably well. She would simply be stuck there with the sort of pay that was so low she would never be able to save her old age. And, having very little time off and few connections, the idea of escaping such a life and into a suitable marriage seemed an impossibility. Add to that the fact that she would almost certainly be denied the right of simple friendship, even company, and she really wondered what, if anything, life had left to offer her.

  “And what of the family, Mr Winstanley?” Georgette said miserably.

  “Ah, well the house and grounds are, I believe, truly spectacular.” Mr Winstanley seemed suddenly to be warming up. This was obviously all that this position had to recommend it, and he was going to sell it for all it was worth. “The household is immense, Miss Darrington, employing almost fifty staff.”

  “Fifty staff?” Georgette said, quite surprised. For a moment, she thought sadly of the seven staff she had had to write character references for. “Then it must be a very large house.”

  “The largest in Oxfordshire, Miss Darrington,” Mr Winstanley said and, despite the fact that this was clearly something of a problematic vacancy for him, he seemed suddenly puffed up with pride.

  “Oxfordshire, Sir?” Georgette said rather shrilly. In truth, she had not imagined that the position would be outside of London.

  “Yes, Miss Darrington; Draycott Hall is in Oxfordshire.”

  “Draycott Hall?” Georgette said, silently trying to work out how many miles there were between London and Oxford. Not, of course, that it mattered a great deal. After all, there was nothing left in London for her to come back to.

  “Yes, Draycott Hall. It is the country seat of the Duchy of Draycott.”

  “Duchy?” Georgette said, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “Yes, I rather forgot to mention that your employer would be Hamilton Whitehall, the Duke of Draycott.”

  Chapter 3

  The carriage ride, despite stopping for an overnight stay at a coaching inn halfway, still seemed incredibly arduous.

  She was traveling post-chaise, and the horses had, by necessity, needed to be changed every fifteen miles. That had meant a change halfway through each of the two days of travel. Still, it was a mail coach and was, as were all mail coaches, rather overloaded with mail and the assorted passengers that it was never designed to take.

  Having absolutely no means whatsoever at her disposal, barring a few pounds that she had taken from her bedroom when she had finally quit her home for the last time, Georgette had baulked at the idea of the cost of traveling post-chaise. However, Mr Winstanley at the registry office had immediately informed her that the Duke of Draycott always paid the traveling expenses of the governesses.

  As the carriage bumped along, Georgette could not help thinking that the Duke of Draycott must have paid out an awful lot of money for mail coaches in the last six months, particularly if the other governesses had also come from London.

  Initially, there had been three other people on the inside of the coach with her when they had first set off from Piccadilly. None of the original three remained by the second day of travelling, each leaving the coach at one of the planned stops to change the horses. However, others had embarked upon their own journeys from those stops, and Georgette felt herself somewhat exhausted from what seemed to her to be almost perpetual introductions to people she had no desire to get to know.

  In truth, it was not simply because she did not wish to know anybody, but rather that she did not wish to explain where she was going and why. It was almost as if she feared the scorn. Even people of lower class seemed to look down upon a person who had fallen in fortunes. A young lady of her obvious breeding setting off on a long journey to become a governess in a great house would clearly fit the category perfectly. Without explanation, all in her company would instantly know that she had become suddenly impoverished, and she could not bear it.

  At first, the idea that she would be so very far away from London had quite unsettled her. It was almost as if Georgette would, at intervals, forget that she would have no home to return to there, even if she did go back to London.

  In the end, she simply tried to think of it in another way. At least if she were not working in London, there would be very little chance of happening upon an acquaintance she had known in better times. More than once, Georgette tried to imagine the horror of being the governess in the house where one of her former acquaintances had arrived as a visitor. In truth, her sense of humiliation would have been complete in such circumstances.

  At least in Oxfordshire, she knew nobody, and nobody knew her. And she need not explain to a single person about her former life and what had happened to change everything. She would simply be the governess; anonymous and isolated.

  By the time the coach had come upon the immense driveway which wo
uld eventually lead to Draycott Hall, Georgette was the only remaining passenger in the post-chaise. In truth, Georgette would not have realized that they had entered the estate of Draycott had the driver not called down to her. She could see no house as yet, only vast woodlands and green fields everywhere. She had even seen a river flowing across the land and had felt the bump of the carriage as it had gone over the bridge which traversed it.

  It was not until the driveway dropped down a little and they found themselves in a clearing that she saw the house for the first time. At that moment, Georgette was glad that she was alone inside the carriage, for she gasped audibly.

  Georgette had never in her life attended such a place. Whilst she had been a minor member of the aristocracy, still, her father did not have the sort of connections that would have led either of them to so grand a place.

  From her vantage point, Georgette could see Draycott Hall in all its glory. It was truly the most enormous mansion she had ever set eyes on, and she now rather wondered quite how only fifty servants could service such a building.