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

by Bridget Barton

  “How very nice to meet you, Lady Lyndon,” Georgette said and smiled warmly at her. “I am Georgette Darrington, My Lady, and I am Eleri and Ffion’s new governess.”

  “And how very pleased I am to see you. I do hope that you are settling in well at Draycott Hall?” She made her statement a question, raising her eyebrows so that her kindly blue eyes widened just a little.

  “I am settling in very well; I thank you, Lady Lyndon,” Georgette said brightly.

  In truth, her instinct had almost led her to instantly reveal all that she had suffered at the hands of the dreadful servants since her arrival. However, Georgette very much knew better. If there were an ally to be found in these kind blue eyes, Georgette would do nothing to turn the good woman away from her with so early an outburst of discontent. Rather, she decided that she must wait and truly see how the land lay with the Duke’s aunt before being so presumptuous as to make any mention of everything she had so far noticed as being so very wrong at Draycott Hall.

  “I am very pleased to hear that, Miss Darrington. And I am sure that the girls are most pleased to have a new governess. Are you not, girls?” She looked down at the children once more.

  “We are very pleased, Aunt Cynthia,” Eleri said enthusiastically.

  “And what about you, Ffion? Have you learned some new things since Miss Darrington arrived?” Georgette could not help being impressed by the way Lady Lyndon sought to include Ffion. No doubt she had sense enough to realize that Ffion greatly lacked confidence and needed drawing out.

  “We have learned a lot of things, Aunt Cynthia,” Ffion said, her little eyes wide. “We have heard all about London. That is where Miss Darrington comes from, Aunt Cynthia. I would like to go verrry much.” As she spoke, her accent seemed to become more pronounced. It was like music to Georgette’s ears, and she closed her eyes for a moment to listen to the little girl.

  “Please lower your voice.” Suddenly, Georgette’s eyes flew open, and she saw that the Duke had finally extricated himself from the attentions of the Reverend. “I think you are perfectly well aware, Aunt, that I do not particularly encourage this,” he said, not giving an explanation and, in truth, not needing to.

  Georgette knew very well that he truly did not want to hear the girls speaking in public. If only he had not arrived at the very moment little Ffion was speaking so comfortably. Goodness knows what damage his careless spite had done.

  “I am simply asking the girls how their lessons are going, Hamilton. Nothing more.” Lady Lyndon’s tone was strained and, when the Duke gave her a fierce and scornful look which narrowed his blue eyes to slits, she became suddenly silent and looked away from him.

  Georgette had never felt so uncomfortable in all her life. She was right in the middle of things, with the Duke on one side and Lady Lyndon on the other. When they came to sit down, nothing seemed to change. The Duke sat on the far end of the pew with Georgette sitting immediately next to him. Ffion and Eleri sat side-by-side on her left and the Duke’s aunt on the other side of the children.

  Georgette could not help feeling that they ought not to have been sitting in such a configuration and yet, at the same time, the arrangement did not seem to be affecting either the Duke or Lady Lyndon unduly. Perhaps, in truth, they were rather pleased to be sitting apart from one another.

  Wishing herself anywhere else on earth, Georgette looked down at the children. She could see that Ffion was crying, making no sound, and making no attempt to blot her tears. The poor child seemed almost as if she dared not move and yet could not stop herself from crying. What was more heartbreaking was that Eleri had reached out and gently taken her sister’s hand in her own, silently protecting her as best she could manage.

  At that moment, Georgette could have risen to her feet and stamped hard on the Duke of Draycott’s foot. How dare he upset an innocent child in the house of God to such a degree that she silently cried? And that her four-year-old sister had, by necessity, taken the responsibility of protector, was unforgivable as far as Georgette was concerned.

  Since as she had felt sorry for him in the carriage, Georgette’s heart hardened completely to the Duke in that moment. As far as she was concerned, he was just about the most appalling person she had ever met. Whilst he had not been openly hostile towards her in the same way that his butler and housekeeper had been, his behaviour towards the children was appalling.

  That he could lack so much awareness of the upset that his words could cause was rather amazing to her, and Georgette could not help branding him rather a stupid sort of a man in her own mind.

  How on earth was it that he could be ashamed of them? For that, surely, was what she had just witnessed. Why on earth would a Duke be ashamed of any member of his own family?

  Georgette was more convinced than ever that Lady Lyndon had been the woman in the drawing room who had, rather forcibly, made her feelings known. In truth, it made Georgette feel rather warmly towards her, and she was impressed that she could see what her nephew truly was and, furthermore, that she had no compunction in raising the matter.

  Of course, it was clear that the woman could say and do no more whilst they were in church, and Georgette rather thought that the Duke had taken great advantage of such a thing. In all honesty, she did not think that she would ever look upon anything the Duke ever did without the taint of her own low feeling towards him. Whatever move he made in future, Georgette would always see it as wrong. Not only that, but she silently vowed never to make an apology for it in her own mind.

  Without a thought of what the Duke might think, Georgette placed a hand on Ffion’s back and gently began to rub her.

  “Have you got a handkerchief, Ffion?” Georgette asked in a most gentle tone.

  As the little girl mournfully shook her head, Georgette smiled and produced a crisp white handkerchief which she had tucked into the long sleeve of her spencer jacket.

  “Here, dry your eyes,” Georgette spoke in a determinedly loving tone, not only for Ffion’s benefit, but for that of the Duke himself.

  In silent response, she could almost sense him tensing a little beside her. If only they were not side by side, her actions might not be accompanied by little feelings of fear.

  When Georgette looked sideways towards Lady Lyndon, she could see a most curious look on the older woman’s face. For a moment, Georgette simply thought it a look of plain interest. However, when Lady Lyndon’s eyes held her own for a moment, she rather thought it was a look of admiration. Perhaps Georgette’s instincts had been true, and she really would have an ally in the lady after all.

  In truth, it was rather a relief to Georgette when the sycophantic Reverend finally made his way to the pulpit and opened the service. It would undoubtedly go some way to diffusing the tension which seemed to have the curious little party in the front pew held so tightly within its grasp.

  Throughout the sermon, Georgette kept a close watch on the children, holding on to Ffion’s little hand and making eye contact with Eleri and smiling whenever she could. In future, she would be sure to see that she had a child on either side of her. If church on Sunday were set to be something the girls feared rather than enjoyed as they ought to, then Georgette would see to it that she was in a position to provide physical comfort to them both. As timid and sensitive as Ffion was, Eleri was still a tiny child who no doubt held her own fears at bay whilst she watched over her sister. Georgette would do everything in her power to give each of the girls exactly what they needed.

  As they sung the hymns, Ffion opening and closing her mouth in some confusion and holding her hymn book upside down, Georgette felt her heart open ever more to the girls.

  Quite why two little girls who could not yet read had been handed hymn books was entirely beyond her, and she rather thought she would take the image of Ffion looking at upside down words to her grave, so touching was it.

  By the time they were singing the third hymn, Georgette had found herself to have relaxed a good deal. Ffion seemed greatly recovered
, and it had gone some way to soothing her own sensitivities. Still, she would never forgive the Duke for his manner if she lived into her hundredth year.

  As they sang, Georgette became aware of being looked at from across the church. Standing sideways on to the Duke, she allowed her gaze to drift to her right a little in search of the observer.

  Peering out from beneath the great brim of her blue bonnet, Georgette could see a woman in the opposite pew making a great study of them all. Whilst her eyes seemed now fixed upon the Duke himself, Georgette could not escape the feeling that they had, initially, been fixed upon Georgette herself. She was absolutely sure of it.

  The woman was just a little older than Georgette herself at, perhaps, three and twenty years. Although Georgette could not study her too closely from across the church, she rather thought the woman to be extremely beautiful. She had a thick mane of pale blonde hair which had been curled to perfection. As Georgette silently regarded her, the woman did not shift her gaze from the Duke at all. She seemed hardly to be singing, so distracted was she.

  There seemed little doubt to Georgette that the young woman was really rather interested in the Duke; quite likely in a romantic capacity. Quite how anybody could be attracted to such a man was entirely beyond her. If the young woman had seen how he had cruelly disheartened so small a child, would she look at him with so much longing in her countenance? Surely not.

  When the sermon, which Georgette thought to have been delivered in a most dreary fashion, finally ended, she busied herself with standing the girls up and straightening their little gowns. Not knowing quite how the Duke and his aunt might get along in the next few moments was unsettling her greatly, and Georgette truly hoped, for her sake as well as the children’s, that they were not about to reignite the little argument that had threatened to burst forth before the service had begun.

  It was a tremendous relief to Georgette when Lady Lyndon began to speak in rather an easy and friendly tone to the Duke.

  “I wonder if you shall be able to escape the fervent attentions of Reverend Merrydown on your way out of the church, Hamilton.”

  “I have to say I really rather doubt it.” When he turned to look at his aunt, Georgette was surprised to see how much warmth his countenance seemed to contain.

  She could hardly believe that the two of them had been at such great odds just an hour before; much less the dreadful look he had given his aunt with which to silence her.

  “But I have spied Edward Camden and really must speak to him. Perhaps I ought to approach him with purpose, Aunt Cynthia.” The Duke gave rather an easy sort of a laugh which took Georgette entirely by surprise. “Although I might have to hurry, for I see that my steward is himself making haste.”

  “Then perhaps you should let him go, Hamilton. After all, I rather think that Lady Louisa would be keen to have a few words with you.”

  “Do you indeed?” The Duke said, although there was no hint of animosity in his voice.

  Rather it seemed to Georgette that he had become indulgent. It was an indulgence of the type which men often used with older female relatives with a penchant for interference.

  “I would say that she seems most keen,” Lady Cynthia said enthusiastically.

  “Either way, I daresay we ought to take our leave,” the Duke said and stood back to allow his aunt, Georgette, and the children to pass him.

  As the little party made their way out of church, the Duke rather firmly keeping his attention away from the Reverend Merrydown, Georgette found herself wondering quite who Lady Louisa was. Undoubtedly, Lady Lyndon had been referring to the young lady who had made so in-depth a study of the Duke throughout the final hymn.

  When they finally reached the little churchyard, Georgette thought the air smelled so sweet. There was the scent of newly cut grass which she had not noticed on her way in, and she rather wondered if it was not her own gratitude at being released from the uncomfortable situation which had made her just a little more attuned to her surroundings.

  “Ah, Lady Louisa, how very well you look, my dear,” Lady Lyndon said in warm and enthusiastic tones.

  “How very kind of you, Lady Lyndon. And I do hope that you are well?” The young woman spoke confidently, and Georgette could see that she was even more beautiful close-up than she had been from across the church.

  Lady Louisa was young, with clear and faultless skin and large round blue eyes. Her blonde ringlets seemed to gleam in the summer sunshine, and her immaculate ivory gown with pale green embroidery seemed to speak of youth and gaiety.

  “Indeed, I am well, Lady Louisa.” Lady Lyndon turned to look at the Duke. “Does Lady Louisa not look extremely well this morning, Nephew?”

  It rather struck Georgette that Lady Lyndon was most determined in her efforts to draw her nephew into the conversation. It seemed equally clear to Georgette that the Duke himself was not entirely keen to do so. He had been looking all about him in a most distracted way, and Georgette rather suspected him of seeking out his steward as a means of providing himself with a most legitimate excuse for taking his leave.

  “Oh yes, of course,” he said, giving the young woman a brief smile before looking away again.

  It rather seemed to Georgette that there would be nothing he would do that day which would please her, and his casual dismissal of the beautiful young woman was very much in keeping with the mood of the morning.

  For a moment, Georgette felt a little dismayed that she herself had not been introduced to the young woman. And then, as if she had been struck by lightning, she remembered that she held no place in this society anymore. The introductions which she had taken for granted all her life were now no longer hers to expect. She was a governess; a servant by any other name.

  She was no longer a woman of any substance and could not expect to come into anybody’s notice. And the young lady before her, Lady Louisa, would not notice her either. She had simply ignored her quite thoroughly, paying her no more heed than she would have paid to the Duke’s driver or one of his footmen.

  It was not a determined act; there was nothing spiteful in it that Georgette could silently berate the woman for. It was simply the way of things. It was simply the same as she herself would have done just six months before. It was society, and nothing more.

  Feeling thoroughly low, Georgette was greatly relieved when it came time for the party to move on and regain the carriage. In truth, she would rather sit with the Duke in silence for ten minutes or more than stand awkwardly to one side in the pretty little churchyard, an interloper in the world that was once hers.

  Chapter 13

  For days after her first visit to the little church in Marsden, Georgette had felt entirely out of sorts. She had been so busy with the children and coming to terms with her new surroundings that she had quite forgotten what her life had once been. Standing outside the church being entirely ignored by people who, no doubt, thought themselves her social betters, had been an all too sobering experience for Georgette.

  Given the rest of Sunday to herself, Georgette had done absolutely nothing with it. She had quite intended to take a walk and write some letters but had, in the end, simply laid upon her made bed and stared rather desperately at the ceiling.

  For the next two days, it seemed that nothing could shake her from her low mood, and only the children gave her any respite from her cares. However, when she was delivered purposefully blackened toast for her breakfast by a rather desperate-looking Daisy, Georgette was brought back to her senses once more.

  “I am so very sorry, Miss Darrington,” Daisy said with a slight tremor in her voice which made Georgette fear that the young woman might actually cry.

  “Please, do not worry yourself so. I know that you have not burned this toast, Daisy. And I know that you would not have enjoyed for one moment bringing me such a breakfast. You must not blame yourself.”

  “It is just because His Grace has gone away, Miss Darrington. It always gives the housekeeper a little bit too much free rei
n, and I am afraid that this is the result.”

  “His Grace has gone away?” Georgette said and, despite her unchanging low feeling towards him, she found herself feeling curiously vulnerable.

  Perhaps even a little more than vulnerable; in truth, Georgette felt a little afraid. And yet, there was no reason to feel so. After all, had the Duke been there, he most certainly would not have stepped into the breach over the matter of burnt toast. A man who cared nothing for the feelings of small children would most certainly not care a thing about the feelings of a governess who had just been delivered a most desultory breakfast.

  “Yes, His Grace has some business or other in London and is staying at his house there. He has only taken his valet, two footmen, and three of the maids with him. Quite often when he goes to London, he takes the housekeeper and butler also. However, that is generally when he is due to stay a little longer.”