GovernessForaWeek

by Barbara Miller

Wyle smiled. “I was not here enough to have swayed them one way or the other and can take no credit. But I have always engaged the best governess I could find.”

  Hill nodded. “Soon Charlotte will be launched into society and Henry will be off to school.”

  “Yes, my tenure here would have been short. A season or two.”

  “But now it will go on forever.” Wyle smiled again. “Shall we toast to our changed circumstances?”

  “Normally ladies retire to the drawing room at this time,” her mother said.

  “Then we will join you there, for I hate to drink alone and Mr. Hill does not imbibe.”

  “I think I might make an exception in this case,” Hill said. “We do have cause for celebration.”

  Yes,” Elizabeth said as they waited for Wyle to pour. “We have all managed to conceal Marian’s transition from governess to your fiancée. I compliment you, sir, on the devotion of your servants.”

  They touched glasses even as the dent between Wyle’s brows became more pronounced. “What had my servants to do with this hard won battle for Marian’s hand?”

  Marian shook her head. “If even one of them, down to the youngest housemaid or under groom, had gossiped about me, it would be all over town by now. They must all be devoted to you and the children. And you can take credit for that.”

  “I had no idea we were in so much danger.”

  After Wyle downed his wine, he slid out his chair to take Lady Elizabeth’s arm and walk her across the hall to the drawing room as Hill moved to escort Marian. “I have convinced my relatives that our acquaintance is through Major Greenway and is distant but longstanding.”

  “But we met you only once in the Peninsula and we said nothing of the kind,” protested Lady Elizabeth.

  He seated her in the best chair and took the sofa next to Marian. “No, of course not but that is what they think. And what they think right now is far more important than the truth.”

  “Nothing can be more important than the truth,” Hill said.

  “In London society nothing could be further from the truth,” Wyle replied. “We have won over Aunt Flora and Aunt Alva, my most forceful aunt. Nothing else matters since she will roll over the rest of the family like a lumber cart.”

  Marian laughed at his apt description.

  “I still don’t like the pretense. Marian, you haven’t said a word since dinner or even during dinner. Can you support this role?”

  “I think I must now. There is no turning back.”

  “Would you wish to turn back?” Wyle asked.

  “No. But I have the strangest fear that something may prevent all Aunt Alva’s fantastic plans.”

  Hill smiled. “Now that your mother is in residence, what could possibly go wrong?”

  Marian was thinking of Isabelle, of course. The temptation of showing Sophie off at a ball would be nothing to the possibility of routing Marian altogether and perhaps snatching Wyle for her daughter. If Isabelle ever found out about Marian’s dual role, all would be over. And that could still happen she reminded herself. They could trust Hill and if the servants had not snitched until now, they were safe. But what if Cole spouted off about it? She didn’t think he went about in society much but it took only one whispered comment.

  Of course Wyle would still marry her no matter what was said of her but the scandal would cling to Charlotte. Suddenly it struck her that Wyle might never have intended to bring Charlotte out. Had he been so bitter about the divorce that he would deny his daughter the chance to try her wings in society? Of course Charlotte’s appearance would call Louisa to mind but Charlotte should not be punished for that. The introduction of a virile and agreeable young man running tame in the house might be intentional. Mr. Hill was above reproach and if Charlotte fell in love with him, Marian had to admit it might be for the better.

  Chapter Eleven

  They had agreed to ride together after breakfast the next morning but Charlotte invaded Marian’s room in tears. “I have split the jacket of Mother’s riding habit, so I cannot go. Oh when will they have my new green one finished?”

  “Don’t cry. You can wear my old one. It’s worn but should fit you.”

  “Oh, Marian, you are the best of governesses and will make the best of mothers.” Charlotte quickly changed her skirt and slipped on the buff riding coat. “I’d rather ride without a jacket than miss riding with Lewis.” Then she blushed.

  “You mean Mr. Hill.”

  “I must remember to call him that in public.”

  “You are young to be making such an attachment,” she said but seeing Charlotte’s discomfort she added, “but Mr. Hill is the very best man I could wish for you.”

  Charlotte laughed and then sighed. “Will I be allowed?”

  “Have you any idea how your father feels about him?”

  “He educated Lewis and helps in the care of his parents. He intends the living at Fair Oaks to be his someday as well as the parsonage. Don’t you see? I would never be far away if I married Lewis. It would be perfect.”

  She said this so much like Wyle that Marian had a qualm. “But staying close to your father is not your only reason? You do love Mr. Hill?”

  “More than anything. I suppose I will have to go through the motions of a London season to please Papa but I’d as soon not.”

  “If you truly love Hill, waiting a year and enjoying yourself will not turn your head. Now get your hair pinned up or we will be late for breakfast.”

  The ladies were in time for tea and buttered toast, though Henry had finished the scones. Marian’s mother and Mr. Hill were laughing at Henry’s description of other treats Cook made when Trumby brought a message that Wyle immediately cracked open. Marian was getting used to seeing him in his uniform, a constant reminder that he also played a dual role. If she were a romantic miss she would see only the dashing war hero but she knew the danger the uniform signified to all of them.

  After reading the missive several times with that dent of concentration between his brows Wyle looked up at them. “It appears I must get to Woolwich immediately. I just had a session with the new recruits yesterday and they all seemed promising but this reports they have nearly blown up one of the new pieces.”

  “Is the note from Frobisher?” Marian asked.

  “It must be though the handwriting seems more legible than I recall his being. He also says I will be asked to command the new unit. I never discussed that with my superior and it’s unlike him to make such assumptions.”

  Marian sucked in a breath. Did he not mean to resign after all?

  “Would you mind so much taking the children riding with a groom, Marian, you and Mr. Hill?”

  “Perhaps we should cancel the ride for today?” she asked.

  “Oh, must we?” Charlotte pleaded.

  “Cancel? Of course not,” Wyle said. “It’s a beautiful day and there is no need for all of you to miss a ride.”

  Wyle limped to the door and stood with his hand on the knob. Marian could see the light of excitement in his eyes. Then he noticed her and returned a pleading look.

  “May I speak to you for a moment?” he said simply.

  She rose and followed him out to stand in the back hallway.

  “If they truly need me…”

  “Your children need you.”

  “The war is almost over. Charlotte and Henry can do without me for a few months.”

  “And what about the occupation? Even if victory is close you are like to be posted to France for some time.”

  “I’ll resign my commission as soon as we win. Besides, the children have you now.”

  “I’m small substitute for a blood relative.”

  “Before I leave I shall have you made their guardian in case…”

  “In case you are killed.” She turned away. “That’s why I vowed never to marry a soldier.”

  “You knew what I was. Marry me now. I can arrange it before I leave.”

  “Won’t they all be shocked?”

&
nbsp; “We are going to be married anyway. The children both accept you.”

  She whirled toward him. “Is this why you asked me to marry you, because I’m good with the children?”

  He looked shocked by the accusation. “You don’t just have two faces. You are two different people, the playful, joyful girl I have come to love and the cowardly one too afraid to live.”

  “You accuse me of cowardice because I do not want to stay in England waiting to hear of your death?”

  “I know.” He blew out a breath and gave a tired smile. “Whereas the real Marian Greenway would go with me if she could.”

  “My mother and I did go with Papa to the Peninsula. We were some use to him and the other soldiers. Now he is captured—or dead—just as Mother predicted.”

  “Had you been there, you would not have been able to prevent his fate.”

  “I could have searched for him. I would at least know his fate,” she whispered desperately.

  “Or perhaps not. We cannot know how things will turn out.”

  She felt her jaw clench. “But men seem to enjoy uncertainty like gambling. Only this is with your life, your children’s future.”

  “I need you to be courageous. I need you to be the Marian who will face any fear for me, even that one.”

  “Why should I? If I am prudent and scornful of love it is because life has taught me how much love hurts.”

  He covered the space between them and wrapped his arms around her. “I asked you to marry me because I love you. I know that even if you accept me, it may only be for the children’s sake. For you do love them. It’s in your eyes.”

  She looked up into his face, an accusation on her lips. “How could you think that I would marry you only for the children?”

  “You accused me of worse.”

  “Yes, I suppose I did.” She rested her head on his shoulder and clutched his sleeves.

  “Just as you have been put off by men, especially soldiers, I have not had the best experience with women.”

  “One would think that would make us ill-suited.”

  “Actually it makes us the best match and the best of parents. If you marry me before I leave, it will make it safer for them. No one else but your mother need know about the extra ceremony.”

  “You are going to be a soldier still and I said I would never marry a soldier.”

  “And you have never broken your word even to yourself. But I promise you I will resign my commission.”

  “But you are a soldier before you are a father, certainly before you are a husband.”

  “Indeed I was a soldier before I was anything else but I am a man first. This is just my duty and will not last much longer.”

  “Possibly long enough to get you killed.”

  “If you fear that, all the more reason to marry me. It isn’t just my children I want to take care of. I regard you and your mother as family now.”

  Marian found herself on the point of the worst decision in her life. “Perhaps one should not say never.” She looked up at him.

  “When one’s father has disappeared into the maw of war? Who could blame you? I will say no more but wait for your answer.”

  “Very well. I am willing if it will protect them but what about your family?”

  “They need never know of it. All Alva’s plans for the engagement ball will not be spoiled and we will be married again when this is all over in a ceremony that the family can witness.”

  She grasped him by the shoulders and kissed him on each cheek. “You have my orders to survive somehow. I do not want to have to deal with them myself.”

  “Though you very well could. You have my promise that I will return.”

  He looked both ways in the hall, then tipped her head back for a real kiss. She hoped it would be one of many. Just as she was about to follow him out the back door, the front knocker was pounded and the butler opened the door to Cousin Isabelle.

  Marian stifled the groan that sprang to her lips as the woman entered the front hall.

  “Ah, I’ve caught you in,” Isabelle said.

  Wyle cleared his throat. “Isabelle, I really must go.”

  “It isn’t you I want to see but Miss Greenway.”

  “I have promised the children a ride in the park.”

  “Oh, the grooms can take them, can’t they Wyle? And that nice Mr. Hill.”

  “Yes, of course but Marian enjoys these rides as well.”

  “I see.” Her affable smile crashed into a frosty glare.

  “It’s all right, Wyle. If you are content to trust them to Hill and the groom, I’ll stay in. Will you take some tea?”

  “That would be delightful.”

  When they went into the drawing room, Marian’s mother was just finishing the Morning Post and rose.

  “I shall leave you to your guest.”

  “Oh, please stay,” Isabelle said. Her pale complexion was drawn tightly across her bones as though she’d been under a strain. Her face had more lines than Marian’s mother’s.

  Elizabeth moved to a sofa in the alcove and Marian followed them, completely forgetting to request the tea she had offered. To her surprise it appeared within a few minutes. The servants had no more exited the room than Isabelle looked at Marian and said, “We all know this arrangement is not right.”

  “I beg your pardon,” her mother said.

  “What is not right?” Marian asked as she poured for the others and added far too much sugar to the one intended for Isabelle.

  “Your marriage to Wyle. After all, he is a peer of the realm. And your father is a common soldier.”

  “My husband is a major. He outranks Captain Wyle.” Marian’s mother sampled her tea with milk and smiled.

  “And there is talk that he may have defected to the French.”

  “Ridiculous.”

  Marian went on pouring tea with a degree of calm she did not think possible. Would anyone blame her for upsetting a cup on the woman’s lap?

  “I do not know what hold you have over Wyle but this simply will not do.”

  Marian handed her a cup. “How odd for you to think so. All his other relatives seem delighted that he is getting married.”

  “There are plenty of suitable young ladies for him to marry.” Isabelle took a sip and gagged, then put the cup down.

  “Sophie, for example?” Marian suggested.

  “Wyle has known her all her life.” She pressed her handkerchief to her lips.

  “How odd that he did not chose her then. Perhaps he regards her as too closely related or too young.”

  “I blame the army.”

  “For Wyle’s preferences?” Marian took a sip of the hot brew, trying to calm her nerves.

  “Perhaps he feels he owes your father something.”

  “I assure you, I did not trade on Wyle’s acquaintance with my father.”

  “And to be staying here. I call into question Wyle’s judgment. Men tend not to observe the niceties ladies must.”

  “Does my chaperonage mean nothing?” Elizabeth asked.

  “You can’t be awake all the hours of the day and night.”

  “What? I assure you nothing is going on and it’s insulting for you to suggest such a thing.”

  Marian had enough. To think she had given up a ride to listen to this nonsense. She cleared her throat. “Men do practice in their dealings a directness I find refreshing.” Marian took a sip, seeing the worried face of her mother over the rim of her cup.

  “What do you mean?” Isabelle asked.

  “Marian, I don’t think—”

  “If we were men and you had offered me no fewer than three serious insults in the space of as many minutes, I would call you out, we would meet at dawn and one of us would cease to exist.”

  Cousin Isabelle choked. Marian found herself hoping the cough would be fatal but unfortunately the woman recovered her breath.

  “How dare you?”

  “Why would I not dare? Keep in mind my father did teach me to shoot
in case I would meet someone like you.”

  “I know when I have been insulted.” Isabelle stood up and shook out her skirt.

  “Your understanding is more acute than I thought for someone who calls at this hour of the morning.”

  Her gown rustled ferociously and the door slammed behind her.

  “My dear, that wicked temper of yours.” Her mother shook her head. “You got rid of her if that is want you wanted.”

  “She made you angry as well.”

  “Yes, you are right. If you had not put her in her place to be sure I would have. Find a groom and you may be able to join the party in progress.”

  “Perhaps I will since I am still dressed for it.” Marian rose and went into the hall but the clatter of hooves in the courtyard alarmed her. Surely they would not be back so soon if something were not amiss.

  When she flung the back door open the four horses were riderless and two under grooms were gathering up the reins.

  She ran down the steps. “Hoby, help me mount. You mount and come with me. Jenkins, harness the team to the carriage in case someone is injured, then put those horses away.”

  The words were no more out of her mouth than she turned Charlotte’s mare back down the alley and loped her through the streets. It wasn’t a safe practice but this was an emergency. One of the children could well be dead if they had lost control of all the horses. What did she care for her own safety or reputation if something had happened to one of them?

  When she and Hoby got to the park it seemed deserted in the early morning stillness, so she set the mare into a gallop along the track they usually took. One figure on the ground resolved itself into the groom, Reed, sitting and then she saw the body of Mr. Hill but not the children. Perhaps they had gone for help. As they galloped up she could see Reed attempting unsuccessfully to staunch a leg wound. How on earth?

  She did a running dismount that she did not think possible and flung the reins to Hoby. The scarf around the brim of her hand could serve as a tourniquet. She knelt on the gory ground and bound the leg while looking anxiously at Mr. Hill.

  ”Have the children gone for help?”

  “Abducted, by Gawd. Who would have thought it, poor mites.”

  “What? Who took them? Who?”