A Governess of Great Talents

by Murdoch, Emily E K

  “There you are,” said Archibald with a wide grin. “I feel fine, by the way. I don’t know why there is all this fuss!”

  Meredith smiled. “And that is how we intend to keep it, Archibald. Now sit back and let your brother take his seat.”

  She looked up expectantly at Alfred. “I…no, I need to walk Miss Talbot home.”

  Meredith’s smile disappeared. “Oh. I see.”

  “As soon as I return home, let’s go for a ride,” Alfred added hastily. “Or a walk. Or we could read in the library, or—”

  “Can I come on the ride?” piped up Archibald.

  “No,” said Meredith and Alfred together.

  Her cheeks pinked, and she dropped her gaze. “Because your brother and I are not going on a ride. I am sure I shall be far too preoccupied keeping an eye on you and planning lessons for anything like that.”

  Alfred leaned forward. “I am sure those things can wait, and Mrs. Martin could sit with Archibald if—”

  “I will be busy all afternoon,” Meredith said coldly.

  Alfred did not know what to make of it. “Busy.”

  What on earth could she be playing at? Yes, they had agreed—well, he had said he could not offer his hand. But that did not mean they would never spend any time together…

  “Yes, busy,” Meredith said, leaning forward to close the carriage door. “It may have escaped your notice, Your Grace, but some of us have to work for wages. Good morning.”

  She tapped on the roof of the carriage, and it moved forward. Alfred was forced to step back to prevent his feet from being run over.

  Well! What was all that about? He knew perfectly well she worked for wages—he was the one who paid them, wasn’t he? Surely lessons and all that nonsense could wait if they wished to see each other?

  Meredith had been so cold. Was it possible something else had occurred to make her so distant? Or was she ensuring Archibald did not suspect there was anything between them?

  “There you are!” A giggle erupted behind him. “I cannot wait forever, you know, Your Grace—or may I call you Rochdale?”

  Alfred turned on the spot to see Miss Talbot standing outside the church and her brother nowhere to be seen.

  “Yes, fine,” he said distractedly, unaware of what she had said. “Shall we go, then?”

  Miss Talbot stepped forward and took his arm. “Thank you, Rochdale. I always feel so much safer when I am with you.”

  Alfred frowned. “Strange, I never considered the paths around here unsafe. Has something occurred when I was in London perhaps?”

  They had taken the footpath that led to the bridle path, which spanned most of the Johnsons’ farm. The Talbot house was on the other side of it, a two-mile stretch Alfred never considered long.

  “You silly man,” said Miss Talbot in what she evidently thought was a flirtatious manner. “That is not what I am afraid of. ’Tis what I want from you. Your presence, if you will.”

  Alfred nodded, not really paying heed to her words. The sooner he got this walk over and done with, the sooner he could be home.

  It was the longest sixty minutes he had endured. Miss Talbot chittered loudly about who so and so was marrying, and what sort of dowry they had, and wasn’t it a shame it wasn’t larger like hers, and other such nonsense. Alfred merely allowed the words to wash over him.

  “Though when I marry,” she said, squeezing his arm in a most alarming manner as they came to the gates of her home, “I hope I will not be settled too far from John and the rest of Rochdale. If only there was someone nearby with whom I could share my heart.”

  Alfred grunted in a non-committal fashion. He was not going to be drawn into such nonsense by ridiculous hints such as those.

  Propose to Miss Wilhelmina Talbot, simply so she would not have to move out of the neighborhood? What utter rot. Propose to a woman merely because everyone expected it? Because it would align the two households who were most prominent?

  “Well, here we are,” he said bracingly. “Good day, Miss Talbot.”

  “Oh, no—you must walk me up to the house,” said Miss Talbot with a smile.

  It was simply not in Alfred’s power to say no. How could he? The drive was not long, only a few hundred yards. Only a few minutes, and he would be rid of her. Then he would be back on his way to Meredith.

  “And this is where I leave you,” he said, trying not to sound too cheerful, removing Miss Talbot’s arm from his own.

  She pouted, looking up at the manor house in some surprise. “You…you do not wish to come in and—”

  “No,” said Alfred, perhaps a little too quickly.

  Miss Talbot’s eyes narrowed. “You are taking your time in offering for my hand, you know. I’m giving you as many opportunities as I can, Your Grace, but really!”

  Alfred managed to keep his jaw from dropping.

  “Miss Talbot,” he said heavily. “I am sorry to say I will not be proposing to you. Not today, not ever.”

  Miss Talbot blinked as though attempting to understand. “I beg your pardon?”

  How was he supposed to say this more directly without giving offense? “Miss Talbot, I do not love you.”

  “Oh, you are funny, Rochdale. As if that mattered! What has love got to do with it?”

  Alfred smiled dryly. At least that was honest. “I know our kind usually weds for alliances, but I have all the alliances I need. What I want is a wife, a partner in life.”

  “I can do that,” Miss Talbot said eagerly, evidently sensing the wind had changed. “I can be that for you, Rochdale. I really can.”

  Alfred looked at her. She had been born and raised as he had, told from a young age what her destiny was supposed to be. How could he blame her for clinging onto that as tightly as he clung to this foolish notion of him becoming a politician?

  It was not her fault. She had never had someone like Meredith dropped into her life, forcing her to recognize everything she had ever been told.

  “You…you cannot, Wilhelmina, you must see that,” he said more gently. “I have not fallen in love with you, and so I cannot marry you.”

  “Who have you fallen in love with?”

  Alfred hesitated. “Good day, Miss Talbot.”

  He felt lighter as he strode down the drive and along the bridle path back to Rochdale Abbey. That was a conversation he should have had a long time ago—at the ball, perhaps. But it was done now and would end that thinking from her, or her brother, or Mr. Walker, too.

  Yes, he would have to remember to tell Mr. Walker. It was essential everyone stopped attempting to force him toward Miss Wilhelmina Talbot. Especially when…

  Alfred swallowed as he stepped over a stile, taking a slight shortcut. Never before had he noticed just how…cloying was the only word he could think of. How cloying Miss Talbot and other ladies were.

  Not until he had met Meredith had he known what it was to feel comfortable around a lady.

  She had shown him a new way of what a woman could be—what a lady should be. He smiled as his feet took him rapidly closer to her.

  “Meredith,” he said as he caught her arm just outside the French doors of the ballroom around the back of the house. “I am sorry about that, I had no wish to walk Miss Talbot home, but I was given no choice. Now, how about that ride?”

  He had expected her to smile. To laugh, to show relief he was home. Perhaps even say she had been hoping he would suggest that, and she was ready to tack up her horse.

  Meredith said none of those things. “I told you, I have no wish to ride.”

  Alfred’s temper flared. He had not put up with Miss Talbot all that time just to be pushed away by Meredith when he finally had the chance to spend time with her!

  “No, you told me you were busy,” he said, trying to keep his temper in. “I do not see how you are busy at all.”

  Meredith’s cheeks flushed, but she said nothing, just tried to pull her blanket into her arms more completely. The book was slipping from her grasp, but still, she held her
head up high and refused to say anything to him.

  Alfred was at a complete loss. What had he done? Surely they had both understood each other when he had told her he simply could not offer for her hand?

  “Is…is there something wrong?” he asked carefully. “Have you received…I don’t know bad news from your family?”

  Meredith glared and turned around, striding toward the kitchen gardens.

  “Wh-What?” Alfred called after her, stepping forward hurriedly in an attempt to keep up with her.

  “No, I have not heard anything from my family,” she said, refusing to look at him as she paced down the gravel paths. “It is just that I can decide whether or not I wish to go for a ride. I may still be your servant, but I can make my own decisions!”

  There was a heated fury under her words, but Alfred was at sea. He had never ordered her to go on a ride with him, had he? He had hardly ordered her since she had arrived!

  “Please,” said Alfred, taking her arm and forcing her to stop and look at him. “Please, I have offended you in some way though I know not how, and I am sorry for it.”

  He was astonished to see tears in Meredith’s eyes, though she blinked them away. “I have no right to be upset.”

  Alfred stared. He had never seen Meredith like this, so upset. At the same time, she appeared furious—and not with him, he could see that now. No, she was furious at herself.

  Meredith glanced up at the house. “We must not—someone will see. They will see us conversing.”

  Alfred pulled her further into the walled kitchen garden where they would not be overheard. “I did not realize privacy would be required for this conversation. But now that we have it…why do you not tell me precisely what is going on here?”

  There was a wry smile on her face as Meredith dropped the rug and the book down onto the gravel, right by the last of the summer carrots.

  “You know, I never thought I would be one of those women to get upset about this,” she said quietly. “It is stupid and foolish, and I knew at some point you would marry, but—”

  “Marry?” Alfred interrupted in shock. “What—marry? I am not getting married!”

  “Tell that to Miss Talbot.”

  Alfred blinked, unable to understand where this was coming from. “Miss Talbot—Miss Wilhelmina Talbot? I am not marrying her, nor have I ever said such a thing!”

  “Are you sure?” she shot back. “For everyone I speak to expects it. Why, it could not have been clearer today that she expected it!”

  Alfred opened his mouth but paused. It was starting to come together now. He would never have guessed it of her, but then he supposed there was still much to be learned about Miss Meredith Hubert. There were depths to her he had not quite reached.

  “If I did not know any better, Meredith,” he said slowly, “I would say you were jealous.”

  She was! She was jealous!

  “Well, why should I not be?” Meredith said defiantly. “There is no understanding between us, Alfred, and I know there never will be. But you know I…there are feelings on both sides, I thought. And there you are, with Miss Talbot. Dancing at balls, walking her home from church…you do think I am the only one to come to such a conclusion?”

  Only then did Alfred see it all from her perspective and realized she was exactly right. What else could be taken from such actions—except, of course, the truth.

  “Yes, a marriage between myself and Miss Wilhelmina Talbot was proposed by our families,” he said gently, taking her hands in his, her gaze finally rising to meet his own. “But I have no interest in her. Truly, Meredith. Miss Talbot is a lady of the town, and I wish her well in finding someone to marry her. Because I am not that person.”

  Meredith examined him closely. “She is…Miss Talbot is a very pretty woman.”

  “Really?” said Alfred with a grin. “I had not noticed. I was too busy looking at you.”

  She laughed, and at that moment, the ice melted.

  “You probably think I am very foolish,” she said ruefully.

  Alfred chuckled, her hands in his. “No, but I admit it has done wonders for my ego!”

  Meredith laughed and dropped his hands to pick up her rug and book. “I really do have to go in soon and start planning next week’s lessons.”

  Her voice sounded wistful, and Alfred wondered whether she was just waiting for a different kind of invitation.

  “Well, in that case,” he said gently, “why don’t I walk you back to the house—the long way round, though. I am desirous of a little time with you.”

  She nodded, and they walked slowly down the gravel path to the other side of the kitchen garden, towards the orchard. They continued in silence until Alfred laughed.

  “My apologies,” he said with a grin. “I was just thinking of something Miss Talbot once said to me. It made me realize there was no possibility that we would ever be married.”

  Meredith looked at him curiously. “What did she say?”

  Alfred laughed again at the mere memory. “She said—and you will not believe this—but she said she was convinced that one day, women should vote!”

  “I do not understand,” said Meredith quietly. “What is the joke?”

  The dappled shade from the orchard gave them some relief from the sun, but it was no protection from the serious look that Meredith gave him.

  Alfred gaped. “Well, you—you cannot really think that women should vote?”

  “Why not?” shrugged Meredith as they stepped into the more formal gardens on their way back to the house. “In Sweden, women can vote if they pay taxes. That seems a rather good idea to me. If one is paying for the country one lives in, it is only right that one gets a say in how it is run.”

  It was news to Alfred, though he had to admit that it made sense, of a sort.

  “Well, the Swedes can be strange if they wish,” he said magnanimously, “but I do not believe we will ever have a system like that here!”

  “Why not?”

  Alfred stared. “Why not?”

  Meredith nodded. “I actually agree with your Miss Talbot. I do not believe it will be long before women can vote.”

  It was impossible not to laugh at these words, and Alfred continued to chuckle as he held open one of the garden gates for her.

  “But Meredith, women are simply too emotional!”

  It was a striking glare she gave him now, and Alfred hastily ceased speaking.

  “Emotional is not always a bad thing,” she said fiercely. “Should we not be emotional about poverty? About education? About protecting ourselves?”

  These were thoughts he had never had before. Such radical ideas!

  They had reached the back door now, and Meredith hesitated. “I do not mean to be divisive, I only share what I think.”

  Alfred pushed away his concerns. He was falling in love with her, and all other problems could be solved later. After the damned election.

  “Not at all,” he said before opening the door for her and watching Meredith disappear into the kitchen. “Good day, Miss Hubert.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  September 27, 1812

  It was no good. No matter where she looked on all the shelves, she couldn’t find it.

  Stepping down the library steps, Meredith sighed. She had seen the leather-bound copy of The Theory of the Four Movements weeks ago. Just when she needed it to explore the theme of utopia with Archibald, she could not lay her hands on it.

  Meredith leaned against the armchair and wondered how much time was worth spending, looking for the book. Perhaps it had been lent to another—Mr. Walker, perhaps.

  She smiled at the thought of the gruff man reading the Frenchman’s theories and looked at her pocket watch. Still early. She had time before lessons were to begin again.

  Besides, she had seen Mrs. Radcliffe’s latest novel. Meredith pulled it gently from the shelf. Sometimes a novel was far more interesting than reality.

  Each time she thought she understood Alfred, knew w
here this was all going, comprehended that he had a plan for her, for them—he did something to confuse her. The ball, that encounter in the library, the rides, the moment in the kitchen when he showed her true pleasure…and then nothing.

  Meredith did not believe she was a fool. She knew matrimony was unlikely for her at all, let alone with a duke! But then why did he continue to return to her?

  “Miss Talbot—Miss Wilhelmina Talbot? I am not marrying her, nor have I ever said such a thing!”

  Meredith shook her head as she slipped into the welcoming embrace of the armchair, with Mrs. Radcliffe’s novel in her hands. His protestations that he was not in love with Miss Talbot made sense, she supposed. She had certainly seen no stolen kisses or looks of love between them.

  Well, not from Alfred’s side.

  But the way he had acted, the poor Talbot girl could be forgiven for thinking she would receive a proposal! Walking her home—why did he not just refuse Mr. Talbot’s request?

  She simply could not imagine being a duke, having that much power, and not choosing to use it in the way he wanted.

  Just as she started to read the first line of her book, the door opened.

  Meredith closed the book. Whether it was Roberts or Mrs. Martin, she was certain to be criticized. Being a part of the household for almost two months did not seem to matter.

  “Do not concern yourself, I only came to look for a book for Master Archibald’s lesson,” she said automatically as she rose from her seat.

  “I should think so,” came Alfred’s reply. “That is what a library is for, isn’t it?”

  Meredith smiled. There he stood in the doorway, a broad smile on his face. The gentleman who had invaded so many of her thoughts over the last few weeks.

  Almost since the moment she had arrived here.

  “Alfred,” she breathed.

  The duke stepped into the library and shut the door behind him. “Just the woman I was looking for.”

  Meredith raised an eyebrow. “Really, at this early hour? If you have a query about Archibald’s education, then I would be more than happy to take you through the lesson plan I have orchestrated from now until Christmas. We will be focusing on—”