GovernessForaWeek

by Barbara Miller

  The children were just happy to have him with them again. Was it possible he could be both a soldier and a father? And a husband?

  Once again Charlotte rode beside Hill, hitching her too small jacket closed with one hand as she managed the mare with the other. Henry struck up a conversation with Reed, the groom who regularly rode with them. That left her and Wyle to bring up the rear. In spite of disliking Wyle’s compulsion to stay in the army she could not deny a certain amount of pride in riding beside such a distinguished looking soldier. If Wyle was torn about the decision she could not blame him for she was of two minds herself.

  “Is their mother safe from the battle?”

  “Louisa was in Paris last I heard and she would have nothing to fear from British troops. Her count, I think, is still in service, though I heard he was severely wounded at Vitoria. I had not thought much about her.”

  “Still, it would be distressing to think of her in danger.”

  “Or any other woman. But you have forbidden me to play the hero.”

  “I ask you to temper your exuberance with caution. I was impressed that you realized that you erred yesterday.”

  “And without you telling me. I’m a quick study. Give me the truth, Marian. Have I sunk beneath reproach in your estimation or is there a chance for us?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut but they were dry. She had left all her tears on her pillow. “I do not know.”

  “Well, it’s a sure bet no one else knows,” he said with a harsh laugh. “If you want control of the situation you have it.”

  He sounded so desperate he almost did make her weep. “With control always comes decisions, hard ones.”

  “You didn’t flinch from putting yourself in service. It seems your next decision could be easier.”

  All she had to do was say yes or no. And yet she could not.

  * * * * *

  When they returned from their morning ride, Trumby informed Marian she had a caller.

  “Oh, no. Do not tell Lord Wyle. I shall deal with this.”

  But when she entered the drawing room it was not Cole who awaited her but her mother, looking strong and stern in the black garb she had adopted just in case she was in mourning and did not yet know it. Marian went and embraced her. After a few tears they pulled apart and looked at each other with smiles. Her mother’s hair was still full and long gathered under her hat but streaked with too much gray for a woman her age. Her eyes had lines but were still sharp and alert. Whatever the war had done to her it had not sapped her strength.

  “Are you indeed happy to see me, Marian? You have so seldom asked my advice before. But for the first time in your life you sounded uncertain about what to do. I thought I had better come and assess the situation myself.”

  “But it is such a long journey.”

  “Not on the mail coach, which I could well afford since you have showered me with riches.”

  “Still I am happy to see you.”

  “So explain this situation. You are the governess here?”

  “Yes and the children are dears.”

  “But you are also engaged to Lord Wyle?”

  “Not really.”

  “Marian, one is either engaged or not.” Her mother removed her gloves a finger at a time and smacked them down on the table.

  A gentle knock caused them to glance toward the door and Marian said, “Come,” expecting the generous housekeeper might have made them a pot of tea but it was Wyle.

  “Pardon me for the intrusion but Trumby told me your mother had arrived and I think it would be fitting for me to welcome her as well.”

  “Mother, this is Lord Wyle. Wyle, this is Lady Elizabeth Greenway.”

  “If my daughter is indeed the governess here, then it would not be proper for me to appear as your guest.”

  Wyle bit his lip. “Shall we say Marian fills a double role in the household. How did you put it Marian? That you have two faces, your governess face and your own, Miss Marian Greenway.”

  “What exactly does that mean, sir? When I got your invitation I was shocked.”

  “You wrote to Mother?” Marian shifted her gaze to Wyle and he shrugged with his usual beleaguered look.

  “Marian, help me out here,” he pleaded.

  “Oh, I wish I could but I am at a loss as well. You invited my mother to stay here?”

  “I had it from a very reliable source that it was the proper thing to do.”

  “Our Reverend Hill, no doubt.”

  “Perhaps I should start at the beginning,” Wyle said. “Please do sit down.”

  “I can hardly wait to hear this.” Her mother sat stiffly and Wyle cleared his throat in discomfort as he began pacing the room.

  “You are not the only one in suspense,” Marian confessed for she had no idea what he was going to say.

  “In a nutshell, when Marian first arrived I did not realize she was the governess but rather thought she was an actress a friend of mine had hired to impersonate my fiancée. So the first evening I introduced her as such to friends and family.”

  “As an actress?” Her mother sounded more angry than shocked.

  “No, as my intended.”

  Lady Elizabeth was speechless for a full minute, then shifted her gaze away from Wyle’s sincere face to Marian’s. “You allowed this?”

  “I had no idea what was going to happen and thought I was dealing with a lunatic but a lunatic who paid well. So I determined to survive the evening, then put the relationship on the proper footing in the morning.”

  Her mother nodded but into the ensuing silence prodded, “And have you?”

  “I am the governess to the children but Wyle’s relatives, Aunt Flora and Aunt Alva in particular, think I am his fiancée.”

  “Staying here?”

  “No they have no idea I am staying here. That would be very improper.”

  “But not if you are in residence,” Wyle added with a nod. Hence my letter.” He opened his palms as if that solved everything.

  “What? Am I to lend credence to this arrangement, which at best is a deception and at worst will rob my daughter of her character?”

  “I had planned to cry off at the end of the season and disappear,” Marian hastened to say.

  “Disappear to where?” her mother demanded.

  “My country estate,” Wyle supplied.

  Marian glared at Wyle and he had the grace to look abashed.

  “Absolutely not. That would be worse than this. I realize, Marian, that having been country-raised, you enjoyed an independence not granted to most young women, plus the freedom of the war but I will do everything in my power to put a stop to such an inappropriate arrangement.”

  “Even though I have changed my mind about the fake engagement?” Wyle asked.

  “What?” Lady Greenway asked.

  “Marian, I do care for you and want to marry you. The children adore you and I see no impediment.”

  Lady Elizabeth stood. “Sir, I see a great many.”

  Wyle sighed. “Is it unheard of for a widower to fall in love with the governess and make her his wife?”

  Her mother shook her head. “And that woman is writ down as a scheming fortune hunter.”

  “But Marian has her own fortune.”

  “In point of fact she does not have it and is unlikely ever to lay hands on it.”

  “I have a competent solicitor and I intend to see what he can do toward putting Cole out of power.”

  “How very noble of you but until then Marian must come home with me.” She rose and started toward the door.

  “Leave the children?” Marian wailed. She came to her feet and looked around desperately at what she had come to think of as her home.

  “It’s all been backward for us, Marian. Don’t discount my suit until you have given me a chance to woo you. And the only way I can do that is if your mother agrees to stay.”

  “Woo?” her mother asked. “If I may remind you, sir, you are not a widower but a divorced man who parted c
ompany with his wife by bill of parliament. There has been nothing to compare to the scandal in years.”

  “Lady Elizabeth, if I had met Marian in the ordinary way at a ball or some other public place, would you discount my suit?”

  She sighed heavily and shook her head. “No, of course not, unless insanity does truly run in the family.”

  “It’s only that his aunts are so insistent that he marry.”

  “I am not unsympathetic but to have you change from a governess back into a society miss is not a transformation that will do you credit nor will be believed.

  “But no one knows about the governess except the servants,” Marian said.

  “And no one knows Marian Greenway as my fiancée except my relatives. So if you agree to stay as her chaperone, she can live in this house as the plans for the wedding are finalized.”

  Lady Elizabeth looked at him dubiously as she clutched her reticule. “The wedding that is or is not going to take place?”

  “Yes,” Wyle said.

  “No,” Marian argued.

  Wyle took Marian’s hands. “I thought we agreed I have a chance to woo you.”

  “I have agreed to nothing.” Marina clenched her hands into fists.

  Her mother pressed her fingertips to her temples. “At this point I understand nothing.”

  Marian gulped. “So, I do have to make a decision and I have finally run out of time.”

  “We never had much time and if we are to speak of Marian being alone with me, I assure you we have scarcely had a moment of privacy for conversation except when trotting about on the backs of horses. Every other time a child, a servant, a relative or an army of acquaintances is bursting in upon us. Which puts me in mind of my errand and reason for interrupting you two.” Wyle looked anxiously toward the door. “The thing is my aunts have invited themselves to lunch today along with Cousin Isabelle and I must produce Marian one way or the other, either as my fiancée or as the young woman with the good sense to jilt me and escape the lunacy of this household.”

  Marian stared at him and a strange bubble of laughter at the absurdity of the situation threatened to burst forth. “Why did I not know about this luncheon?” Marian demanded. “Even as your pretend fiancée it would have been a good thing to have told me.”

  “Because I forgot to open the mail until just now.”

  Suddenly Marian’s mother did break into laughter. It was somewhat hysterical laughter but it was laughter “Very well, before this goes any further, Marian, is there a particle of truth in what he says?”

  “Mother, do you think anyone could have made that up?”

  “Let me rephrase. Is there the slightest chance you might want to marry Wyle someday? Because if you leave now and break the engagement that all ends.”

  Marian gulped. “Under ordinary circumstances a proposal from Lord Wyle would have met with my approval. And now that I know him, I strongly feel he needs a responsible…”

  “What? A governess?” her mother prompted.

  “No, a keeper but I suppose a wife will do.”

  “So you will marry me?” Wyle asked.

  “Yes, I will marry you.”

  Wyle lunged toward her to plant a kiss but hesitated. “With your permission, Lady Greenway?”

  “Very well but be brief if you indeed have aunts about to assault your home.”

  He kissed her then, warmly and chastely. Marian realized that she had fallen in love with him even though she had steeled her heart against such a possibility.

  There was a desperate knock on the door. “Sir, oh sir, they are coming up the outside steps now.”

  “Now, please come meet my family,” Wyle said.

  “In my traveling clothes?”

  “You look splendid, madam but on the off chance you would be staying, I instructed them to carry your baggage to the chamber that adjoins Marian’s. We will await your pleasure.”

  Lady Elizabeth opted to change her winkled traveling dress for fresh garments without thinking that her hasty packing meant they were all equally crushed.

  “No matter,” Marian said as they stood over her mother’s valise in the shared dressing room. “We are the same size. I’ll get you one of my dresses.”

  “Just tell me, has he been a gentleman this whole time? I mean, the connecting door…”

  “Wyle has never done a thing that would frighten me or compromise me, which is more than I can say for my cousin. And I do love Wyle.”

  Her mother came into her bedroom to clasp her by the arms. “But dear, he is a soldier.”

  “I know. Who better than a soldier’s daughter to cope with him?”

  “This is the last sort of marriage I would have wanted for you.”

  “But admit it, you like him too.”

  “I admit that he needs you. He’s so endearingly incompetent except perhaps on the battlefield.”

  “And the war is almost over.”

  “That much closer to finding out if your father—”

  “Yes, I know. But if Papa was dead I would feel it and I do not.”

  “I wish I had your faith. Come let us not keep them waiting. Oh, I don’t know about lavender.”

  “Papa is not dead. Wear the lavender and the silk shawl.”

  “All those buttons. We will be late.”

  “Oh, I think we should let Wyle stew in his own juices ’til you do your hair.”

  “I may be a firm woman but I am fair. The hair is well enough.”

  When they entered the drawing room again Aunt Flora rose and came to embrace Elizabeth which surprised everyone else in the room except Lady Elizabeth.

  “Forgive me the familiarity but it has been so long. We were once so close but family tends to tear you away from even your dearest friends.”

  Marian’s mother returned the kiss on the cheek. “My fault as well for not writing but I was ever a poor correspondent.”

  “So it is settled between these two?” Flora asked.

  ”Yes and I think they will suit each other very well.”

  As they exchanged greetings, Alva started to babble about the ball arrangements and Isabelle got a sour look on her face.

  “Such balls are usually given for young women just out of the schoolroom. I think it highly inappropriate to do so for a lady not in the first blush of youth.”

  Everyone turned to see how Marian would react but she laughed. “So I have been telling them. A quiet wedding would be far more to my taste.”

  “But Wyle wants a ball, don’t you, Wyle?” Alva pleaded.

  Marian glanced at him to see if he was indeed a brave man.

  “After my past scandal I was hesitant but as Alva has pointed out, it is an opportunity to get recognition for Charlotte. And I think Sophie too, though she is out, would attract many admirers among the three hundred invited.”

  “Charlotte is to attend?” Isabelle asked. “That’s unheard of.”

  “Only as a treat to watch the dancing,” Alva said, “and she won’t go into supper.”

  “I still think it’s absurd.”

  Flora cleared her throat. “I think it’s a fait accompli. Alva has already sent the invitations.”

  “Well, I didn’t get one yet,” Isabelle sniped.

  Flora turned to Alva who blushed and went on about the flowers. Marian knew for a fact that Alva had not got round to writing invitations yet. Was this Wyle’s revenge on his sister? If so it might cost them for she was sure that Mr. Hill, as well as she and her mother would be pressed into service writing the cards.

  Trumby opened the double doors and Wyle said, “If that’s all settled it appears luncheon is ready.”

  An hour later Marian left the dining room with her head spinning and felt ill-equipped to teach the children anything that afternoon. Too much had happened too fast. She recalled something her father had said. “When everything is going your way brace yourself for an upset. Chance does not favor anyone overmuch.” Would it be Cousin Isabelle? She left her mother to rest while
she went upstairs to the schoolroom for the art lesson. Charlotte’s still life in watercolor and Henry’s attempt to copy a horse drawing in pencil gave her leisure to ponder just what could go wrong. A note was brought and she read it while the footman waited. In Cole’s crabbed hand he invited her to meet with him to discuss her future.

  “Is the servant still waiting?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  She wrote that under no circumstances would she see him. Her mother was in residence now and he was to leave them in peace. “Give that to the man.”

  She was curious what Cole could possibly have to say to her but not enough to endure another conversation with him, especially in the lobby of the Barclay Hotel. Nothing could have been more improper unless it was the situation she just escaped by agreeing to marry Wyle. If Cole babbled about that to even one member of the ton she was still in the suds.

  * * * * *

  Dinner was another lesson in table manners. That was the excuse Marian gave for having the children present at the table and for dining so early. It was a fiction she was sure her mother saw through but was too generous to say so. For being alone at table with Wyle and Mr. Hill, though a clergyman, would have been beneath reproach.

  She glanced at her intended and won an endearing smile from him as he tried to show Henry the difference between the forks. Wyle was a good father when someone showed him what his children needed. He was actually a very patient teacher, so he would probably do well at Woolwich but she did not like that he would be away frequently especially now with her changed circumstances. Even though she was his fiancée staying in his house with her mother for chaperone, she should not be receiving his callers, not even his aunts.

  Twice during the meal her mother called her to task for being inattentive. At the end of it the children left them to work on their lessons. Each expressed again their delight at meeting her mother.

  “I must say they are the best behaved young people I have ever encountered. You could not have waved a magic wand and done that in the space of a week, Marian.”

  “No, they were always well behaved and dutiful. Perhaps their military upbringing?”