by Deborah Hale
“I am delighted to hear it,” Rupert reached over and gave his daughter’s shoulder an affectionate pat. In this case he did not mind being proved wrong. “Very well, Miss Ellerby. If you reckon Phoebe has shown sufficient responsibility to merit more time, then she shall have it.”
“Thank you, Papa!” The child seized his hand and pressed it to her lips. “I won’t let you down.”
“I have every faith in you.” He beamed at Phoebe then turned the smile upon her governess, grateful for the way she had handled his rebellious middle daughter. It was as if she had managed to gentle a headstrong filly and begun training it to be a champion.
The lady’s gaze skittered away from his, focusing on the children, her breakfast—anywhere but at him. Ah well, he could tolerate her unsociable manner as long as she managed so well with the girls.
“I learned too, Papa.” Sophie’s eyes sparkled with her mother’s lively intelligence. “I can read twenty new words and find a dozen countries on the globe. I want to visit all of them some day.”
“Don’t be silly,” Charlotte muttered. “When you grow up, you’ll go to London and perhaps a fine country house if your husband has one. You won’t need all this useless information that’s being crammed into our heads.”
Though he hated to contradict his daughter, Rupert felt obliged to point out, “I do not believe any information is entirely useless. Better to be over-informed than ignorant.”
Charlotte paled as if he had struck her, which made Rupert’s stomach contract in a tight ball of guilt. Miss Ellerby was doing so well with the younger girls. What had she done to alienate his eldest? Or was it his fault for relying so much on Charlotte after Mademoiselle’s abrupt departure that she was bound to feel displaced by any new governess?
The mantel clock chimed just then, reminding him of his duties as a landowner, which warred with his desire to be an attentive father. “I’m afraid I must be on my way. A great many matters require my attention.”
His daughters’ fallen faces reproached him. “But... perhaps you could come with me. Charlotte and Phoebe can ride their ponies and Sophie can ride with me. Would you like that?”
Phoebe let out a most unladylike whoop of joy while Sophie bobbed her head eagerly. Only Charlotte did not appear eager to accept his invitation. “I would rather stay home and catch up on my needlework, Papa. I have had far too little time for it lately.”
“As you wish.” Rupert tried to ignore a pang of disappointment. “Another time perhaps.”
His daughter was growing up far too quickly and he feared he might have accelerated the process. She needed a mother to guide her through these next awkward years to womanhood. They all did.
Perhaps during their travels today, he and Phoebe and Sophie could pay a brief call on the Cadmores.
Chapter Six
WOULD CHARLOTTE EVER accept her?
Grace heaved a sigh and dipped the tip of her pen in the ink well to begin a letter to her friend Hannah Fletcher. Having put the girls to bed not long ago, she was now free to indulge in the pleasure of correspondence. Only yesterday she had received a long letter from Hannah, every word of which seemed to reach across the miles that separated them with tender concern and sympathy. It was not the same as being able to sit down for a long heart-to-heart talk, but it was the closest thing they had.
How Grace longed to see her friends again! After leaving school, she had never found another person in whom she could confide so freely. Governesses lived in a twilight position, beneath the families who employed them yet above the servants. Any familiarity with either group was frowned upon. She had not minded a great deal, until recently.
But now she found herself growing to care for Phoebe and Sophie Kendrick more deeply than she had for any of her past pupils. Was that because they were growing up without a mother, as she had? She sensed what they needed and longed to supply it. She would like to have done the same for Charlotte, if only the girl would let her. But the harder she tried, the tighter Charlotte closed herself off. Perhaps Hannah would have some advice on how to handle the situation. She’d always had a sensible head on her shoulders.
Writing feverishly, pouring out her frustration, Grace reminded herself she ought to be grateful that she had won over the other two girls. She had also been fortunate to gain their father’s support, though she was not certain how far that might extend.
The nib of her pen scratched softly over the paper as she wrote about the day Charlotte had coldly refused to ride around the estate with her father and sisters.
Later I heard muffled weeping and found Charlotte curled up on the window seat watching the rest of the family ride off. I spoke to her as gently as I could and asked if she had changed her mind about going.
She jumped up with such a glare I feared she might strike me. Then she replied that her feelings were none of my concern and demanded to be left alone. Much as her harshness vexed me, I was moved by the hurt and sadness in her eyes. I believe the poor child makes herself more miserable than anyone with her spite against me.
Ever since that day, she and Charlotte seemed to be in a state of armed truce that threatened to erupt in open warfare at any moment—rather like the tense situation in Europe as Napoleon returned to power. Grace did not want war to come again so soon. She thought of Hannah, whose master was an officer recently returned home after years of service in the cavalry. Neither did she want hostilities with Charlotte to escalate. But she could not purchase peace at the cost of her authority over the Nethercross nursery.
As Grace paused to let the ink dry she heard faint sounds from the nursery. Ever since Sophie’s nightmare, she had left her bedroom door slightly ajar at night in case the child called out for her.
That was not what Grace heard now, though she wondered if it might be Sophie murmuring in her sleep, begging those she had lost to come back. Laying aside her pen, Grace rose and crept toward the door, her ears straining to make sense of the whispers drifting in from the nursery.
It wasn’t Sophie talking, at least not only her. All three of the girls seemed to be carrying on a hushed but emphatic conversation that was growing louder than they could have intended. Grace was about to call out for them to get to sleep when she suddenly picked out a familiar word from the girls’ furtive exchange. That seemed to be the key, making the rest come clear.
“...must stand up to Miss Ellerby,” Charlotte urged her sisters in a fierce whisper that carried clearly to Grace’s ears. Was the child so intent on making her point that she did not notice her voice had risen? Or did she not care if the governess overheard her? “Otherwise she’ll do just as she likes and turn Papa against us.”
“You’re just put out,” Phoebe countered, “because Papa sided with her the other day and because he’s pleased with me instead of you for a change.”
“I didn’t care for Miss Ella at first.” Sophie scarcely bothered to lower her voice at all. “But I do now. She understands about things.”
“You two are impossible!” Charlotte hissed. “She’s turned you against me as well.”
“She has not,” Phoebe snapped. “You’re doing that all by yourself.”
“I’m not against you, Charlotte.” Sophie’s plaintive little voice sounded choked with tears. “Why are you so angry with me? I’ll try not to like Miss Ella if you don’t want me to.”
Grace had heard quite enough. She’d overlooked Charlotte’s criticism and insolence, hoping to win her cooperation with kindness. Clearly that had not worked. She was not about to let the child take out her frustration on her sisters.
Striving to sound more confident and controlled than she felt, Grace pushed open her door and strode into the nursery. “Girls, I’m afraid your whispering has grown too loud to ignore.”
She headed straight toward Sophie’s bed and put her arms around the tearful child. “Charlotte, I am not prepared to tolerate any more of your troublemaking. I know you do not want me at Nethercross, but that is your father’s decision,
not yours. You are wrong if you suppose I am trying to turn him against you.”
The child did not argue with her openly as Phoebe would have done. Instead, she retreated into petulant silence that seemed to crackle like thin ice beneath Grace’s feet.
“Hush, Sophie.” Grace stroked the child’s hair. “Your sister is not angry at you and I’m certain she did not mean to upset you. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”
After a long, fraught moment, Charlotte spoke. “I’m sorry Sophie. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I know you aren’t against me.”
“No one is against you, Charlotte,” Grace insisted as she continued to comfort Sophie. “But I must insist you give me your obedience and respect. Otherwise, I shall not be able to take you with us when we visit the Cadmores.”
She tried to keep her voice calm, so as not to provoke the child or further distress her sister. But her statement of the consequences Charlotte would suffer for her continued insolence roused the girl from her petulant silence. “Keep me home from the Cadmores? You wouldn’t dare! I would tell Papa the instant he returns from London and he would dismiss you at once for treating me like that.”
Might this action cost her the position she was coming to enjoy more every day? Charlotte’s threat made Grace hesitate. Up to this point Lord Steadwell had been surprisingly supportive. But that support must have limits. Past experience warned Grace that parents always came to the defense of an aggrieved child, without a thought for how difficult it made her job. Why should her new employer be any different?
Yet she could not bring herself to back down. She was not asking anything unreasonable, after all. Charlotte’s attitude was not only causing trouble for Grace, but also upsetting her sisters. It was also for her own good. If Charlotte continued on, expecting to have her own way without regard for the feelings of others, she would one day find herself much worse off.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Grace chose her words with care. “But I must stand firm. I do not mean this as a punishment but a choice you are free to make through your own actions. If you wish to accompany us to the Cadmores, I have made clear what sort of behavior I expect from you. I hope you will make the wise choice.”
Charlotte gave an angry. “Hmph!” Then she pitched down onto her bed and turned her back on Grace with as much noise as possible.
“That didn’t sound very promising, did it?” Grace whispered to Sophie.
The child shook her head.
“Thank you for speaking up for me,” Grace pressed a kiss upon Sophie’s forehead. “That was kind and brave of you.”
First Phoebe, now Sophie—not since her friends at school had others come to her defense like that. Surely she owed them and herself the same. She only hoped that standing up to Charlotte would not cost her this opportunity to care for children she was rapidly growing to love.
After a tumultuous week in Parliament, Rupert was more eager than ever to get back to the peace of the countryside and the loving company of his children. Having ignored the danger of Napoleon’s return to power, the government had finally come to its senses and committed to putting troops in the field. Rupert feared their reluctance to act might have given the little tyrant a worrisome advantage.
As his carriage drew up to the house, he spied Charlotte waiting by the front door. She must have been watching for his arrival so she could come out to meet him, bless her heart.
When he climbed out of the carriage, however, he was not greeted with the warm smile he expected but by a pale countenance and flashing eyes.
“What is wrong, dearest?” He held his arms open to her. “Is one of your sisters hurt or ill?”
The thought of harm coming to any of his daughters threatened to rip his heart out.
“Oh, Papa!” Charlotte hurled herself into his arms, her slender frame heaving with sobs. “It’s M-Miss Ellerby. She’s... h-horrible! Why did you h-hire her?”
So this tearful outburst was Miss Ellerby’s fault? All Rupert’s earlier misgivings about the governess came roaring back.
“There now,” he sought to comfort his daughter. “What has Miss Ellerby done to upset you so?”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and ushered her into the house. It took little encouragement for Charlotte to unburden herself. The upshot seemed to be that the governess had denied her the opportunity to visit Dungrove.
“Surely it was not her place to say whether I could go. You were the one who accepted the invitation for all three of us, weren’t you, Papa? Miss Ellerby should never have forced me to stay home without consulting you.”
What could Charlotte have done to merit such punishment? In the past, his eldest daughter had always been impeccably behaved, never giving Mademoiselle Audet any trouble. Missing out on that visit would have been a severe deprivation for her. Charlotte had talked about little else since Mrs. Cadmore extended the invitation.
Pulling out a handkerchief, Rupert pressed it into his daughter’s hand. “Never fear. I will get this sorted out. Go tell Miss Ellerby I wish to speak to her in my study.”
“Thank you, Papa.” The child wiped her eyes and immediately brightened. “I knew I could rely on you.”
Rely on him to do what? Rupert wondered.
Charlotte ran off up the stairs at a pace for which she might have scolded her younger sisters. Meanwhile, Rupert headed to his study with a sigh. He had hoped to escape all the trouble in London by coming home to peaceful Nethercross, but it seemed there had been conflict brewing here as well.
He had barely reached his study when Charlotte returned, followed by her worried-looking governess.
“You wished to see me, sir?”
“I did, Miss Ellerby.” He rose and gestured for her to take a seat.
When Charlotte headed away again with an ill-concealed air of triumph, he motioned her to stay. “I understand there has been some... difficulty in the nursery this week, which resulted in you forbidding Charlotte to accompany the other girls to Dungrove. Is that correct?”
Miss Ellerby’s brow furrowed deeper. “Not entirely, sir.”
“Then perhaps you could explain what occurred.”
“Very well.” Miss Ellery shifted in her seat. “For some time, I have felt that Charlotte resents my presence at Nethercross. She often complains of my teaching methods and finds fault with much that I do.”
“That’s not true!” Charlotte cried. “Besides, it has nothing to do with what happened.”
Rupert was inclined to agree, but Miss Ellerby spoke up with quiet insistence. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I believe your daughter’s attitude toward me has a great deal to do with this situation. May I continue?”
When Charlotte tried to protest, Rupert silenced her. “You were able to tell me your side of the story without interruption. Your governess deserves the same opportunity. Pray go on, Miss Ellerby.”
She gave a nod of thanks. “Matters came to a head on Monday evening, when I overheard Charlotte criticizing me to her sisters and urging them to disobey me.”
“Did you hear that, Papa?” Charlotte demanded. “She admits to eavesdropping on us.”
“The girls were supposed to be asleep at the time,” Miss Ellerby explained. “But their whispers grew so loud, they became impossible to ignore.”
While Rupert kept Charlotte quiet with a sharp look, Miss Ellerby explained the choice she had given his daughter. When she finished, he stood silent for several tense moments, digesting all he had heard from both sides and deciding what to do.
At last he spoke. “I must apologize, Miss Ellerby, for my daughter’s conduct.”
It was difficult to judge which of the two was more shocked by his words, Charlotte or her governess. Both regarded him with open mouths and wide, wary eyes.
Taking advantage of their silence, he continued, “Perhaps I also owe you an apology, Charlotte, for placing so much responsibility on your young shoulders that you became reluctant to surrender it. That was not fair to you.”
“But Papa,” Charlotte wailed, “how can you take her part over mine? She has turned you against me, just as I feared she would!”
Rupert shook his head. “Nothing could be further from the truth, my dear. This is not a case of taking sides. I am trying to do what is best for everyone. You are a clever girl and mature beyond your years, so I hope you will understand that I am thinking of you as much as anyone. I do not want you to be unhappy, but as Miss Ellerby tried to make you see, that will be your choice. From now on, I expect you to obey her as you would me and respect her likewise.”
“But Papa...”
“Is that understood, Charlotte?”
“Yes, Papa.” The child’s obedient but resentful tone made Rupert hope he had not lost her affection altogether. “May I go now?”
“You may.”
Charlotte rose and curtsied to him, then to her governess, like a wooden puppet. Her features were frozen in a neutral expression that he feared might mask turbulent feelings. It reminded him of Miss Ellerby. Might that be another reason the two had gotten off to a difficult start—because they were too much alike?
As soon as his daughter left the room, her governess let out a shaky breath. “Thank you for what you said to Charlotte. I know it cannot have been easy for you to disoblige her.”
Rupert made an effort to chuckle but it came out more like a sigh. “I only hope I have not made matters worse for you.”
When she thought back on it a full fortnight later, Grace still had trouble believing Lord Steadwell had stood up for her when his daughter all but demanded her dismissal.
Not that his actions signified he had any particular liking for her, she insisted to herself. He had been defending the principle that his daughters should respect the governess he had hired to care for them. No doubt he also recognized that Charlotte needed to learn more consideration for others. All the same, his defense of her gave Grace added confidence in her authority. It made her feel valued at Nethercross in a way she had not in any of her previous positions. If only his lordship’s actions had had as positive an effect upon his daughter.
