A Governess of Great Talents

by Murdoch, Emily E K

  Alfred mirrored her, taking a deep breath before launching into, “Ladies and gentlemen. It is a great honor to be standing here before you t-today, as a man who wishes to serve…to serve the community I so greatly love.”

  Meredith breathed out a sigh of relief. Even in that short opening statement, she could hear the confidence return.

  He could do this.

  He made no snide comments about the Talbots at all. Meredith knew Mr. Hemming had been a big proponent of such things, but Alfred had put his foot down, and she was relieved to see none had made their way surreptitiously into the final version of his speech.

  Her heart soared. He truly was the member of Parliament the people deserved.

  She was proud of him. She knew she shouldn’t be; she had no right to be, other than as his servant. But she loved him. Perhaps she had not known it quite as she knew it now, but it was impossible to ignore. She loved Alfred, and even if he never loved her, never shared the feelings she wished she could openly express, he would always have her heart.

  It was something she would never speak of, and no one else could know. What a scandal it would be if anyone knew how they felt about each other…what he had done to her in the kitchen…

  Meredith’s cheeks pinked. It would be mad enough, the governess and the duke—but a thief? For that was what they would think of her, if her true history ever came out.

  No, she would never permit that to happen. Alfred deserved better. He would never win the election with her by his side.

  “—this great county,” Alfred was saying, smiling now. “I have known it and loved it for all my…”

  A thought struck Meredith, making her chest tighten. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps Alfred knew it would be impossible to win the election with her by his side.

  But what about after the election?

  It was a heady thought and one she struggled to push aside. It was delightful, the idea that he was waiting until he had been declared the Rochdale member of Parliament, and then he could declare himself to her.

  Then he could sweep her up in his arms and declare his undying love. Or perhaps on a ride by the lake—or even…

  Meredith’s smile disappeared slowly. She was getting far too ahead of herself, she chided gently. If indeed that was Alfred’s plan—and she had absolutely no indication it was—the election had to come first.

  “—which is why you should elect me, Alfred Carmichael, Duke of Rochdale, to be your member of Parliament in the forthcoming el-election,” finished Alfred with a broad smile.

  Applause rang out across the town hall, and a few people even rose from their seats. Meredith mirrored them, and Archibald, evidently unclear why she was doing so but believing anything she did was the proper thing, rose, too.

  “Wasn’t he good?” he said enthusiastically.

  “He was indeed,” said Meredith, and then added, “You know, Archibald, we should probably add some public speaking practice into your curriculum—if you are, indeed, to follow your brother into politics.”

  Archibald flushed in the same way his brother did when irritated. “Do I have to?”

  Meredith felt a pang of guilt as they sat down, the applause dying away. They were so similar. Archibald, like his brother Alfred, clearly had no interest in following the family tradition and entering into politics.

  His future was mapped out, just like Alfred’s, and it could not be clearer that he did not want it any more than his half-brother.

  “We will see,” she said quietly.

  There was no need to lower her voice, however. There was a rumble of chatter growing from the crowd as people started to discuss the two speeches. John Talbot had risen to join his sister and other supporters, and Alfred stood there as though unsure what to do next.

  “Come, let us go and congratulate your brother,” she said.

  Archibald nodded, and the two of them made their way toward him—but before they reached him, Meredith put a hand on the child’s shoulder and made him stop.

  “But first,” she added, “we need to allow the people to speak to him. ’Tis their votes, you understand, that Alfred needs to secure.”

  Several people had risen and approached Alfred immediately, many of them with smiles, a few nodding, and one man had extended his hand.

  “What an excellent speech, Your Grace,” he said gruffly. “It put me in mind of your old father, I don’t mind telling you. Actually, now I think on it, your father was to help me with a dispute I have with…”

  Meredith smiled. He was a born leader, even if he did not wish to take on the mantle. The way he listened to people, heard their stories, tried to think of how he could help them…the people of Rochdale had an excellent future member of Parliament.

  Then her heart twisted. Breaking away from her brother’s group, Miss Talbot stepped toward Alfred. The townspeople melted away, allowing her through as a lady.

  Alfred smiled and took her by the hand.

  The twisting of Meredith’s heart became truly painful, and it took a few moments for her to understand what it was.

  Jealousy!

  It was absurd, but she could not pretend it was any other emotion. She was jealous! Jealous of the instant respect Miss Talbot claimed from the people around her. Jealous of the way Alfred could take her hand, and in public! And no one would censure Miss Talbot or chastise her. The world would see flirtation and nothing more.

  Alfred said something in a low voice Meredith did not catch, and Miss Talbot giggled.

  Meredith’s mouth fell open, and she closed it hastily. They were flirting!

  Miss Talbot replied in a quiet voice, and Alfred nodded, chuckling as he continued to hold her hand before him.

  Meredith swallowed. He had to be polite to anyone he spoke to. As soon as he could relinquish Miss Talbot’s hand and move on to speak to someone else, he would.

  But he did not. Alfred placed his hand on the small of Miss Talbot’s back with a smile and moved her away from Meredith and Archibald to start a conversation with Mr. Walker.

  She hated that she felt this possessive over him. He was her master, not her husband, nor anything else that would give her permission to complain about who he spoke to.

  She could not claim ownership of him any more than this woman could. She had received no promises from him—it was she who stopped him from offering in the first place!

  “Who is Alfred speaking to?” Archibald’s voice was quiet, so only she could hear.

  Meredith ensured her voice was calm. “Miss Talbot. John Talbot’s sister.”

  Her eyes did not move away from her as she spoke to Alfred and Mr. Walker.

  “Isn’t she pretty?”

  “Very pretty,” said Meredith.

  Alfred leaned closer to Miss Talbot to whisper in her ear, and Meredith bit her lip.

  How well did she know the Duke of Rochdale? She had been in his house…what, a few months? Already she had given him more of herself than she could ever have imagined.

  The chatter and general noise of the husting continued around her, but Meredith could not attend to any of it. Her mind was flooded with memories of what she had permitted Alfred to do to her in the kitchen.

  “I…I could never have imagined such pleasure.”

  “And that’s just a taste…”

  Heat seared her cheeks. Even thinking about it here, in public, felt wrong!

  Alfred was suave, persuasive. More handsome than any gentleman she had ever met. She had been born to thieves and escaped to become a governess. Yet she had allowed Alfred as many kisses as he wanted, save that first moment they had almost embraced at his dinner.

  There was another laugh from Miss Talbot, and Meredith’s gaze sharpened. When one loved someone, as she loved Alfred, seeing him with anyone else was painful. The idea she may not be as special to him as he was to her was even more painful.

  What could she do?

  Before Meredith could think, Archibald slipped from her fingers and ran forward.

/>   “Alfred, that was great! You were spectacular!”

  Alfred, Mr. Walker, and Miss Talbot all laughed, and Meredith stepped forward, too, glad to be given an excuse to approach them. Being far from him was painful.

  She smiled at Alfred, and he looked at her briefly.

  “Ah yes, Miss Talbot, the governess,” Alfred introduced swiftly. “Now tell me, you were saying about…”

  His words continued, but Meredith’s ability to take in his words had utterly vanished.

  The governess? This was intolerable, it was rude, it was…

  Exactly as it should be. Despite all her pain, her frustrations, her desire to be close to him, it was Alfred and not she who was remembering their proper place toward each other.

  It was almost an hour later that Meredith found herself helping Archibald back into the carriage.

  “Do you think there will be another husting? Can I do a speech? Can we sit at the front next time? Do you think I will be allowed to visit London when Alfred is a member of Parliament? Can I—”

  “Hush, Archibald,” Meredith said wearily. “In you get.”

  She followed him into the carriage and tried not to look at Alfred. Thank goodness it was only a twenty-minute carriage ride back to Rochdale Abbey. It would not be long to sit in silence. Then she could retreat to her rooms, claim a headache—not that it would be a lie.

  Alfred was laughing. “Perhaps you can visit me in London, yes Archibald, but you must first attend to your governess. I will see you back at the house, Miss Hubert.”

  “You are not returning in the carriage?”

  Alfred looked behind him before answering, and Meredith saw Miss Talbot waiting for him. Another spark of jealousy fanned the flames in her heart.

  “Alas, no, I need to stay here and finish a few things,” Alfred said lightly, not quite meeting her eye. “You two go on without me. Do as you’re told, Archibald.”

  Meredith nodded. She should have expected this. She was a fool not to have seen it coming. She was a fling, that was all. Skirt available at the house. Convenient. Nothing more.

  As the carriage started to pull away, Archibald started chattering again. “I think I like hustings,” he said in a matter-of-fact way. “Everyone preferred Alfred, didn’t they, Miss Hubert? Don’t you think?”

  Meredith nodded dully. She certainly preferred Alfred over John Talbot, but it did not seem to matter. There was no chance she would ever be more to Alfred than someone to kiss and fondle whenever he chose. Well, that was what he thought.

  She took a deep breath. You must never fall in love…

  She would keep to what she did best. She would be the best governess to Archibald Carmichael as she could, and that was all.

  “Can I have an ice when we get home?”

  “Yes, Archibald. Now let’s have some quiet.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  September 25, 1812

  “—end of today’s sermon. Amen.”

  “Amen,” chorused Alfred, with some relief the service had come to an end.

  Alfred cleared his throat as the congregation stood for the final hymn. If only the Reverend Michaels could consider more interesting topics for his sermons. He was sure the vagaries of canon law were very interesting to some people. He was just not entirely sure that the people of Rochdale Town were those people.

  To make it worse, Alfred had a far more interesting distraction right beside him. Meredith.

  She was a temptation he had never known before. No other woman had caught his eye like this, caught his heart up in knots whenever he tried not to look at her.

  The more Alfred attempted to avert his eyes and concentrate, the more difficult it became. Meredith’s arm was warm against his. Her legs, covered demurely by the skirts of her gown, were mere inches from his own. Every part of her body was just a hand away, and Alfred had to fight hard, even amid this hymn, not to reach out.

  St. Matthews was not the place for that sort of thing. He needed to behave himself.

  A smile spread over Alfred’s face. She was so good, so restrained. After their frankly confusing conversation in the kitchen, he had vowed he would do nothing to tempt her.

  How could he keep to that when every inch of her caused him to be tempted?

  Before he knew it, Alfred was seated once again, and the vicar was closing the service.

  “Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord,” he said, smiling out at his congregation.

  “Amen,” Alfred chorused with the rest of the congregation.

  The Reverend Michaels bowed to the altar and processed out with the choir. Alfred rose and bowed along with everyone else as their vicar passed and then sat down heavily.

  Well, this was it. One of the last Sundays before the election. That meant he had to stay and talk to as many potential voters as he could. That was what Mr. Hemming had said, anyway, and Mr. Walker and Mr. Brown had agreed with him.

  Still, it was with some trepidation that Alfred waited to see who would approach him—and with some surprise that he saw…no one.

  Not a single person. Instead, there were a few people gravitating toward…

  “Ah, Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Johnson, all the Johnsons,” said John Talbot loudly with a broad smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “And how are we all today?”

  Alfred swallowed. What did it matter to him if people wished to speak with Talbot? The fact the crowd around the Talbots was starting to grow, however, did irritate him. After all he had done for them! After all his family had done for them!

  “Let’s go home,” he said gruffly, rising to his feet and stepping out of the pew.

  “I wanted to play with—”

  “Now, Archibald,” he snapped without looking around. He could not face Meredith, not like this. For all his talk about not wishing to be a politician—which was all true!—it was still strange to see people move toward the other man on the ballot sheet.

  “Ah, Rochdale!”

  Alfred stopped dead and sighed, carefully arranging his face into a pleasant expression as he turned around. “Talbot. Miss Talbot.”

  The two Talbots had managed to extricate themselves from their adoring masses, Alfred thought bitterly as Meredith and Archibald paused by his side.

  “I must say, I was impressed with your speech,” said Talbot with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Hardly any hesitations at all, this time. I suppose next time you run, trying to claim the seat off me, you may even be good at all these little speeches.”

  Alfred swallowed. It was very much his intention not to punch Talbot in the face, particularly halfway down the aisle in St. Matthews, but if the man kept up like this…

  “Miss Talbot,” said Meredith hastily, curtseying low. “Mr. Talbot. Bow, Archibald.”

  The boy bowed nervously, and Alfred could see the back of his neck was red. The boy would have to get used to it. Plenty of enemies in the spires of Westminster.

  “Thank you,” he said stiffly to Talbot’s words. “And you were charming, as ever.”

  He said no more. Better left at that.

  “Good luck with the election in a few weeks,” Talbot continued cheerily. “What will you do when the results are announced?”

  Alfred’s jaw tightened. “Go down to London, of course.”

  Talbot laughed, that irritatingly, self-satisfied, smug laugh of a man who had caught another man out. “No, no, I mean when I win.”

  “His Grace doesn’t want to hear any of that, John, hold your tongue,” Miss Talbot interrupted. “Do you, Alfred?”

  Alfred barely noticed the use of his first name. He was so relieved to move on from the subject of the election. “Yes—no, thank you, Miss Talbot.”

  He was not entirely sure how to escape this conversation; it would be damned rude if he just decided to leave, but the longer he stood here, the hotter his waistcoat seemed to become.

  “You will excuse us.”

  Alfred looked in surprise at Meredith, who was curtseying again. “Excuse you?”
r />   “Yes, I’ll get Archibald back into the carriage,” said Meredith, not meeting his gaze.

  “Carriage,” said Alfred blankly. “Yes, carriage!”

  He turned to the Talbots with relief. Of course, Meredith was a genius. The perfect excuse. They would go back, and then he would need to join them in just a few minutes.

  “Probably nothing worse than an early autumnal cold,” he said to the Talbots as Miss Talbot watched Meredith and Archibald leave the church. “Nothing to worry about but got to keep the heir to the title safe.”

  “Poor chap, I hope he feels better soon,” said Miss Talbot, reaching out and squeezing his arm. “’Tis so sad to see one’s child so unwell.”

  “Brother,” corrected Alfred.

  “Whatever,” said Miss Talbot.

  Alfred smiled. It really was incredible how sometimes it was easy for one to see Miss Talbot’s beauty and nothing else. And then she opened her mouth.

  “Well, you will have to excuse me,” he said, bowing hastily. “I really should attend to my brother and Me—Miss Hubert, in the carriage. Good day.”

  He had almost reached the church door until Talbot’s voice stopped him.

  “Nonsense, you need to escort my sister home.”

  Alfred turned and looked at the Talbots with surprise. “Your sister? Home?”

  “Naturally,” said Talbot as his sister simpered. “Girl can’t walk back on her own, that would be criminal! She needs a chaperone, and no one better than you to do it. I’ve got to go canvassing. Secure those votes.”

  Alfred swallowed. Everyone expected it. That had been clear from Mr. Walker, and Miss Talbot had repeated those exact words to him at the ball, hadn’t she?

  “Our marriage would create a new dynasty, one without the squabbling of our ancestors.”

  He had no wish to marry Miss Wilhelmina Talbot. She was not the sort of person who could make him happy, but that did not seem to matter. Social decorum dictated that he offered his protection to her on the way home. Damn and blast it.

  “Of course,” he said stiffly. “Let me just advise the governess of my change of plans.”

  It was highly tempting to simply step into the carriage himself once he had reached it.