So, she would be eating alone, sitting alone night after night in an attic room set far apart from any others and devoid of any human contact save for that of her small charges and possibly the nurse. Well, it was simply something that she would have to get used to and, if she could not, then the butler would be the very last person to hear about it.
“So, now that you know where everything is, I shall return to my own duties and leave you to make your way to the housekeeper’s room for further instruction,” he said and, with a curt nod, turned to stride away from her.
For a moment, Georgette’s heart began to thud. She had wanted to tell the pompous Mr Pearson that she had absolutely no idea how to find her way back to the housekeeper’s room. Her tour of below stairs had been speedy and very far from methodical, an approach which she felt to have been entirely purposeful.
Clearly, the butler had wanted to make a fool of her. He had wanted her to run after him and admit that she could not quite remember where the housekeeper’s room was. Well, he would have a long wait if he thought that that was going to happen. Taking a deep breath and, not the first time that day, straightening her spine, Georgette strode back along the corridor in the hope that she would very soon recognize the door to the housekeeper’s room. Of course, to her, all of the doors looked the same.
After just a few minutes, Georgette’s resolve had dissipated entirely. She seemed to continually pass maids and smartly dressed male servants, all of whom kept their eyes focused firmly on the gray flagstones as they passed her. Not one of them would look in her direction, not even to nod a silent greeting.
Finally, she saw the smartly liveried uniform of the footman who had helped to carry in her large wooden trunk. Feeling a little relieved, she smiled and approached him.
“Would you be so kind as to show me where the housekeeper’s room is?” Georgette said as he regarded her coolly.
“It is that way,” he said with the vaguest nod of his head before turning and walking away.
None the wiser, Georgette let out a great sigh. What a hateful household this was. Did not one of them below stairs have the presence of mind to act on their own accord and not simply be spiteful upon demand?
Well, if that were as much as she could expect from her fellow employees, Georgette would be pleased to eat alone and have nothing to do with them. Feeling antagonized made her feel suddenly purposeful also, and she began to stride through the corridors, pushing doors open and looking inside without a moment’s apology to whomever she found within.
Finally, using just such an approach, she located the housekeeper’s room.
“Mrs Griffin, Mr Pearson has sent me back to you,” Georgette said with a level voice.
“Yes, I am to take you now to your room,” Mrs Griffin said, rising to her feet and moving around the desk she had been sitting at as if she had been seemingly looking at receipts.
“Thank you,” Georgette said, keen to keep any hint of attempted friendliness out of her voice.
The servants’ staircase was located quite centrally, and one was able to go from the basement to the attics without happening upon a member of the household. It was with some relief that Georgette realized that the route from the top of the servants’ staircase to her own little room in the attic was a very simple one, and it went some way to giving her a sense of having her bearings if only just a little.
“This is your room,” Mrs Griffin said, pushing the door open and allowing Georgette to enter first.
“How lovely,” Georgette said, again giving nothing away in her tone.
“Well, at least you do not have to share as many of the servants do.” The tone of Mrs Griffin’s voice led Georgette to very much realize that the servants’ rooms, and possibly Mrs Griffin’s room itself, were very much inferior to the one that she would inhabit.
“Quite so.”
“I think you have everything you need here,” Mrs Griffin said, clearly a little upended by Georgette’s very short and succinct response. “And through that door, there is a small hanging closet for your gowns,” she said, and then looked significantly at the large wooden trunk.
No doubt she thought that the new governess had far too many personal possessions. Still, that was something that Mrs Griffin would have to come to terms with without any input from Georgette. Not one hour into her new employment, and already Georgette was entirely tired of everybody she had so far met at Draycott Hall.
“It would be as well if you simply stayed in your room for the rest of the day, Miss Darrington.”
“Why?” Georgette asked coolly.
“Because you are not due to meet His Grace until ten o’clock tomorrow. Dinner will soon be served and, since you are taking yours in your room, then you might just as well be here to receive it.”
“Indeed.”
“Once your dinner things are taken, there really is nothing left for you to do today.”
“And who is to take me to His Grace tomorrow?”
“I shall be taking you.”
“And shall you be collecting me from here or should I make my way downstairs?”
“There shall be no need for you to leave your room until I collect you. A jug of warm water and a bowl will be left on the small table outside your room at seven o’clock. At eight o’clock, your breakfast will be left on that table and the jug collected. And a few minutes before ten o’clock, I shall come to collect you.”
“Thank you,” Georgette said, feeling a little trapped by the idea that she would be keeping to her room the rest of the afternoon, through the night, and into the next morning.
“I am sure that Mr Pearson has told you that there are no other members of staff sleeping in this part of the attic. They are quite on the other side of the house. However, His Grace inhabits rooms below this part of the attic, and so you would be advised to tread very carefully. He is not keen to hear noise and would certainly be most disappointed to hear anything at all coming from your room. Please take care not to make too much noise.”
“Yes, of course,” Georgette said, looking at the woman incredulously. Quite what noise she thought Georgette might make in the middle of the night was beyond her.
“Well, I shall leave you. Dinner will be served in about two hours.” And with that, Mrs Griffin turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Georgette entirely alone.
Chapter 5
Georgette simply lay in her bed, the events of the day before turning over and over in her mind until she heard a sound outside her door. There was a very definite clunk as a porcelain bowl and water-filled jug was set down on the small table in the corridor outside her room. Looking at the clock on the wall, Georgette could see that it was seven o’clock precisely.
Waiting until she heard the gentle footsteps disappearing, Georgette rose from her bed, stretched, and walked noiselessly across the room to the door.
Just as she had expected, the jug and bowl were on the table, and she lifted them and carried them into the room. Placing them down onto the nightstand, she lifted the jug and tipped the water fully out into the porcelain bowl.
Georgette hastily removed her nightgown and, reaching for one of the washcloths that she had unpacked from her trunk, plunged it into the water. She gasped and drew her hand out sharply, dropping the sodden cloth onto the floor. The water was absolutely stone cold. For a moment, Georgette simply stared down into the bowl in a haze of confusion. It was not possible that warm water would have cooled completely in the rather simple journey from below stairs to her own room in the attic.
Of course, Georgette knew well that the water had never been warmed at all. She had been given cold water with which to wash, and it was certainly no oversight. The whole thing had been quite purposeful.
Knowing that she had never been treated so unfairly in all her life, Georgette felt sudden tears stinging her eyes. Had she not already suffered enough that she also needed to put up with the spite of the servants?
Taking a deep breath and blinking hard,
Georgette resolved that she would not allow such vile and childish behaviour to reduce her to weeping. Instead, she crouched down to retrieve the sodden washcloth on the floor and, plunging it back into the bowl, she set about washing herself thoroughly with the uncomfortably cold water. No wonder the three previous governesses had left this place.
With her cold and uncomfortable ablutions complete, Georgette got herself dressed. Even though she always had access to a maid in her father’s house, she had not always chosen to use one in dressing and undressing unless she was getting ready for a social engagement and wanted to look her best. She thought now what a good thing that was, for she did not instantly recognize the loss whilst getting herself ready.
Georgette walked into the small closet and chose a medium weight gown in a very dark blue. It was a simple gown and rather plain and, Georgette thought, perfectly suitable for a governess. It had long sleeves with a very narrow frill of white lace about the cuffs. The neckline was a little square and also had the same frill of simple white lace. There were three small buttons running from the neckline to the empire line just beneath the bust. There was a band of satin, just an inch wide, around the empire line. The gown fell almost to the floor, not quite long enough to be impractical.
All in all, Georgette felt smartly turned out without any leanings towards ostentation. She simply wanted to feel comfortable in the knowledge that she had chosen well for her first meeting with the Duke.
Georgette wound her thick chestnut hair and fastened it securely at the back of her head. Fortunately, she had brought a small glass with her, as there was none in her room with which to look at her reflection. It was only a few inches across, but enough for her to check that her glossy hair was neat and tidy. It rather struck her that the deprivations of the governess seemed to be growing by the hour.
Just before eight o’clock, Georgette returned the used jug and bowl to the table outside her room and then sat on her bed to await breakfast. She left the door a little ajar so that she might hear whoever would approach with her breakfast tray.
The moment she heard the merest sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards, she jumped to her feet and darted across the room. Standing in the open doorway, she watched as a young maid, clad in an austere black gown and crisp white apron, approached holding the tray.
“Good morning,” Georgette said brightly.
The woman was very young indeed, at perhaps seventeen years, and Georgette wondered if it was the same maid who had delivered the cold water for her to wash in.
The maid, who had not seen Georgette standing in the doorway, looked up sharply, somewhat startled by the cheery greeting.
“Good morning, Miss Darrington,” she said in a quiet voice, a shy smile on her face as she gently laid the laden breakfast tray down on the table next to the jug and bowl.
“That looks wonderful, thank you,” Georgette said, looking down at a breakfast which consisted of tea, toast, butter, and pound cake.
“You are welcome, Miss Darrington,” the maid said and looked as if she was not sure if she should curtsy.
“I thank you kindly much for my jug and bowl this morning,” Georgette said, hedging her bets. When she saw the girl blush, she knew she had hit her mark.
“Yes, Miss Darrington.” The girl was scarlet, and she cast her eyes downwards.
At that moment, Georgette felt very sorry for the maid. She was so young that it was highly unlikely that to bring the new governess cold water with which to wash was her idea at all. Rather, Georgette assumed that the young woman had been given very little choice in the matter and that she had been instructed in what she must do.
“It woke me up nicely,” Georgette said brightly, suddenly keen to ease the poor young woman’s conscience.
“I am very sorry,” the girl mumbled, her face still terribly flushed.
“Please do not make yourself uneasy. I am perfectly well aware that you would have been given no say in the thing. I do not blame you, and I should like you to know that.”
“I tried to sneak in some warm water, Miss, but I could not do so without being seen.”
“Please, do not find yourself in trouble over something so simple. Others are at fault, and not you. And I shall say nothing of it and make no complaint whatsoever. Mrs Griffin must have her fun, after all.” Once again, Georgette was hedging her bets.
“She might soften, Miss,” the girl said, finally raising her eyes to meet Georgette’s own. “If you do not say anything, she might grow bored of it.”
“Then I shall take your advice, my dear,” Georgette said and nodded reassuringly. From the girl’s words, she rather gathered that the previous governesses must have complained immediately. If that were what the sour-faced housekeeper was looking for, Georgette would not give her such joy. “Tell me, what is your name?”
“Daisy, Miss.”
“Well, thank you kindly, Daisy. And please be assured that I shall say nothing of our conversation. I should not like to do anything which would see you in trouble with Mrs Griffin or Mr Pearson.”
“Thank you, Miss Darrington.” The girl looked behind her suddenly, almost as if she expected someone to be behind her. “Begging your pardon, Miss Darrington, but Mrs Griffin will be cross with me if I do not soon return.”
“Oh yes, of course,” Georgette said and reached for the tray. “And thank you again, Daisy. You have been most kind.”
Daisy nodded politely and smiled, her sweet little face so very pretty, before turning to hurry away back towards the servants’ staircase.
Georgette carried her tray into her room and set it down on the table. Pulling out her chair, she sat down and, first of all, poured herself a cup of tea. Leaning back in her chair, Georgette stared out of the large window at the blue and cloudless sky. Just a few moments of conversation with Daisy had done much to cheer her. There was little doubt that Mrs Griffin and Mr Pearson were her enemies, but perhaps it was not true to say that all of the servants felt the same way. They were simply afraid of the housekeeper and butler, both of whom could easily make trouble for a servant at the lower end of things.
Still, she could not help thinking of the liveried footman and his rough manners. To her, it had seemed very much meant. Of course, the footman was just a little below the butler and housekeeper in the servants’ hierarchy. Perhaps it was simply those nearer the top of their own little world who objected to the curiously ambiguous status attached to the role of governess. In truth, she would not be paid a great deal more than they, but she had a background that they did not. It was that, more than anything that they likely despised her for.
However, Georgette decided that she would not allow the actions of the somewhat more aggressive servants to bother her. She would simply place her energies elsewhere and make more effort with the young maids in the hope of, if nothing else, having two or three minutes of friendly conversation every day.
Georgette lightly buttered one slice of toast and chewed at it thoughtfully. She was nervous at the idea of meeting the Duke that morning and wondered quite what his behaviour would be like. Perhaps it was rather the behaviour of the servants which had upended the three previous governesses, rather than that of the Duke himself.
And yet, Georgette thought back to her conversation with Shelford Winstanley. Had he himself not said that the Duke had an intimidating manner and little interest in solving whatever problems the governess might have? By problems, he had presumably meant the poor behaviour of the butler and housekeeper. Well, Georgette would see to it that she never looked to the man for any assistance in that regard.
With her toast finished, Georgette took a bite of the pound cake and found it to be truly delicious. The cook was obviously very talented and a slice of her cake something that could not be somehow made worse by Mrs Griffin’s direction.
With her breakfast finished by half past eight, Georgette had been about to return the tray to the table outside when she heard rather fast and pronounced footsteps clipping along
the floorboards towards her room. Deciding this time that she would not hover in the doorway, Georgette simply kept to her seat, annoyed to find that she was a little fearful of whomever it was approaching.
It was certainly no maid with such a determined tread. When the footsteps came to a halt directly outside her door, Georgette felt that she had suddenly braced herself. When the knock came, it was rather purposefully loud.
“Come in,” Georgette said, choosing not to rise from her seat at the little table.
“Good morning, Miss Darrington.” Mrs Griffin strode in with a sour look on her face. Her skin was rather a yellow-grey colour and was as pale and sallow as her dress was austerely dark.
“Good morning, Mrs Griffin. You are rather early, are you not?” Georgette was careful to keep her tone neutral. She wanted to appear neither friendly nor antagonistic.
“Yes, there has been a change of plan.”
A Governess for the Brooding Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 4
