Regency Romance Collection: Regency Fire: The Historical Regency Romance Complete Series (Books 1-5)

by Bridget Barton

  “Quite so.”

  “I think you have everything you need here,” Mrs Griffin said, clearly a little upended by Georgette’s very short and succinct response. “And through that door, there is a small hanging closet for your gowns,” she said, and then looked significantly at the large wooden trunk.

  No doubt she thought that the new governess had far too many personal possessions. Still, that was something that Mrs Griffin would have to come to terms with without any input from Georgette. Not one hour into her new employment, and already Georgette was entirely tired of everybody she had so far met at Draycott Hall.

  “It would be as well if you simply stayed in your room for the rest of the day, Miss Darrington.”

  “Why?” Georgette asked coolly.

  “Because you are not due to meet His Grace until ten o’clock tomorrow. Dinner will soon be served and, since you are taking yours in your room, then you might just as well be here to receive it.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Once your dinner things are taken, there really is nothing left for you to do today.”

  “And who is to take me to His Grace tomorrow?”

  “I shall be taking you.”

  “And shall you be collecting me from here or should I make my way downstairs?”

  “There shall be no need for you to leave your room until I collect you. A jug of warm water and a bowl will be left on the small table outside your room at seven o’clock. At eight o’clock, your breakfast will be left on that table and the jug collected. And a few minutes before ten o’clock, I shall come to collect you.”

  “Thank you,” Georgette said, feeling a little trapped by the idea that she would be keeping to her room the rest of the afternoon, through the night, and into the next morning.

  “I am sure that Mr Pearson has told you that there are no other members of staff sleeping in this part of the attic. They are quite on the other side of the house. However, His Grace inhabits rooms below this part of the attic, and so you would be advised to tread very carefully. He is not keen to hear noise and would certainly be most disappointed to hear anything at all coming from your room. Please take care not to make too much noise.”

  “Yes, of course,” Georgette said, looking at the woman incredulously. Quite what noise she thought Georgette might make in the middle of the night was beyond her.

  “Well, I shall leave you. Dinner will be served in about two hours.” And with that, Mrs Griffin turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Georgette entirely alone.

  Chapter Five

  Georgette simply lay in her bed, the events of the day before turning over and over in her mind until she heard a sound outside her door. There was a very definite clunk as a porcelain bowl and water-filled jug was set down on the small table in the corridor outside her room. Looking at the clock on the wall, Georgette could see that it was seven o’clock precisely.

  Waiting until she heard the gentle footsteps disappearing, Georgette rose from her bed, stretched, and walked noiselessly across the room to the door.

  Just as she had expected, the jug and bowl were on the table, and she lifted them and carried them into the room. Placing them down onto the nightstand, she lifted the jug and tipped the water fully out into the porcelain bowl.

  Georgette hastily removed her nightgown and, reaching for one of the washcloths that she had unpacked from her trunk, plunged it into the water. She gasped and drew her hand out sharply, dropping the sodden cloth onto the floor. The water was absolutely stone cold. For a moment, Georgette simply stared down into the bowl in a haze of confusion. It was not possible that warm water would have cooled completely in the rather simple journey from below stairs to her own room in the attic.

  Of course, Georgette knew well that the water had never been warmed at all. She had been given cold water with which to wash, and it was certainly no oversight. The whole thing had been quite purposeful.

  Knowing that she had never been treated so unfairly in all her life, Georgette felt sudden tears stinging her eyes. Had she not already suffered enough that she also needed to put up with the spite of the servants?

  Taking a deep breath and blinking hard, Georgette resolved that she would not allow such vile and childish behaviour to reduce her to weeping. Instead, she crouched down to retrieve the sodden washcloth on the floor and, plunging it back into the bowl, she set about washing herself thoroughly with the uncomfortably cold water. No wonder the three previous governesses had left this place.

  With her cold and uncomfortable ablutions complete, Georgette got herself dressed. Even though she always had access to a maid in her father’s house, she had not always chosen to use one in dressing and undressing unless she was getting ready for a social engagement and wanted to look her best. She thought now what a good thing that was, for she did not instantly recognize the loss whilst getting herself ready.

  Georgette walked into the small closet and chose a medium weight gown in a very dark blue. It was a simple gown and rather plain and, Georgette thought, perfectly suitable for a governess. It had long sleeves with a very narrow frill of white lace about the cuffs. The neckline was a little square and also had the same frill of simple white lace. There were three small buttons running from the neckline to the empire line just beneath the bust. There was a band of satin, just an inch wide, around the empire line. The gown fell almost to the floor, not quite long enough to be impractical.

  All in all, Georgette felt smartly turned out without any leanings towards ostentation. She simply wanted to feel comfortable in the knowledge that she had chosen well for her first meeting with the Duke.

  Georgette wound her thick chestnut hair and fastened it securely at the back of her head. Fortunately, she had brought a small glass with her, as there was none in her room with which to look at her reflection. It was only a few inches across, but enough for her to check that her glossy hair was neat and tidy. It rather struck her that the deprivations of the governess seemed to be growing by the hour.

  Just before eight o’clock, Georgette returned the used jug and bowl to the table outside her room and then sat on her bed to await breakfast. She left the door a little ajar so that she might hear whoever would approach with her breakfast tray.

  The moment she heard the merest sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards, she jumped to her feet and darted across the room. Standing in the open doorway, she watched as a young maid, clad in an austere black gown and crisp white apron, approached holding the tray.

  “Good morning,” Georgette said brightly.

  The woman was very young indeed, at perhaps seventeen years, and Georgette wondered if it was the same maid who had delivered the cold water for her to wash in.

  The maid, who had not seen Georgette standing in the doorway, looked up sharply, somewhat startled by the cheery greeting.

  “Good morning, Miss Darrington,” she said in a quiet voice, a shy smile on her face as she gently laid the laden breakfast tray down on the table next to the jug and bowl.

  “That looks wonderful, thank you,” Georgette said, looking down at a breakfast which consisted of tea, toast, butter, and pound cake.

  “You are welcome, Miss Darrington,” the maid said and looked as if she was not sure if she should curtsy.

  “I thank you kindly much for my jug and bowl this morning,” Georgette said, hedging her bets. When she saw the girl blush, she knew she had hit her mark.

  “Yes, Miss Darrington.” The girl was scarlet, and she cast her eyes downwards.

  At that moment, Georgette felt very sorry for the maid. She was so young that it was highly unlikely that to bring the new governess cold water with which to wash was her idea at all. Rather, Georgette assumed that the young woman had been given very little choice in the matter and that she had been instructed in what she must do.

  “It woke me up nicely,” Georgette said brightly, suddenly keen to ease the poor young woman’s conscience.

  “I am very sorry,” the girl mumbled, her face st
ill terribly flushed.

  “Please do not make yourself uneasy. I am perfectly well aware that you would have been given no say in the thing. I do not blame you, and I should like you to know that.”

  “I tried to sneak in some warm water, Miss, but I could not do so without being seen.”

  “Please, do not find yourself in trouble over something so simple. Others are at fault, and not you. And I shall say nothing of it and make no complaint whatsoever. Mrs Griffin must have her fun, after all.” Once again, Georgette was hedging her bets.

  “She might soften, Miss,” the girl said, finally raising her eyes to meet Georgette’s own. “If you do not say anything, she might grow bored of it.”

  “Then I shall take your advice, my dear,” Georgette said and nodded reassuringly. From the girl’s words, she rather gathered that the previous governesses must have complained immediately. If that were what the sour-faced housekeeper was looking for, Georgette would not give her such joy. “Tell me, what is your name?”

  “Daisy, Miss.”

  “Well, thank you kindly, Daisy. And please be assured that I shall say nothing of our conversation. I should not like to do anything which would see you in trouble with Mrs Griffin or Mr Pearson.”

  “Thank you, Miss Darrington.” The girl looked behind her suddenly, almost as if she expected someone to be behind her. “Begging your pardon, Miss Darrington, but Mrs Griffin will be cross with me if I do not soon return.”

  “Oh yes, of course,” Georgette said and reached for the tray. “And thank you again, Daisy. You have been most kind.”

  Daisy nodded politely and smiled, her sweet little face so very pretty, before turning to hurry away back towards the servants’ staircase.

  Georgette carried her tray into her room and set it down on the table. Pulling out her chair, she sat down and, first of all, poured herself a cup of tea. Leaning back in her chair, Georgette stared out of the large window at the blue and cloudless sky. Just a few moments of conversation with Daisy had done much to cheer her. There was little doubt that Mrs Griffin and Mr Pearson were her enemies, but perhaps it was not true to say that all of the servants felt the same way. They were simply afraid of the housekeeper and butler, both of whom could easily make trouble for a servant at the lower end of things.

  Still, she could not help thinking of the liveried footman and his rough manners. To her, it had seemed very much meant. Of course, the footman was just a little below the butler and housekeeper in the servants’ hierarchy. Perhaps it was simply those nearer the top of their own little world who objected to the curiously ambiguous status attached to the role of governess. In truth, she would not be paid a great deal more than they, but she had a background that they did not. It was that, more than anything that they likely despised her for.

  However, Georgette decided that she would not allow the actions of the somewhat more aggressive servants to bother her. She would simply place her energies elsewhere and make more effort with the young maids in the hope of, if nothing else, having two or three minutes of friendly conversation every day.

  Georgette lightly buttered one slice of toast and chewed at it thoughtfully. She was nervous at the idea of meeting the Duke that morning and wondered quite what his behaviour would be like. Perhaps it was rather the behaviour of the servants which had upended the three previous governesses, rather than that of the Duke himself.

  And yet, Georgette thought back to her conversation with Shelford Winstanley. Had he himself not said that the Duke had an intimidating manner and little interest in solving whatever problems the governess might have? By problems, he had presumably meant the poor behaviour of the butler and housekeeper. Well, Georgette would see to it that she never looked to the man for any assistance in that regard.

  With her toast finished, Georgette took a bite of the pound cake and found it to be truly delicious. The cook was obviously very talented and a slice of her cake something that could not be somehow made worse by Mrs Griffin’s direction.

  With her breakfast finished by half past eight, Georgette had been about to return the tray to the table outside when she heard rather fast and pronounced footsteps clipping along the floorboards towards her room. Deciding this time that she would not hover in the doorway, Georgette simply kept to her seat, annoyed to find that she was a little fearful of whomever it was approaching.

  It was certainly no maid with such a determined tread. When the footsteps came to a halt directly outside her door, Georgette felt that she had suddenly braced herself. When the knock came, it was rather purposefully loud.

  “Come in,” Georgette said, choosing not to rise from her seat at the little table.

  “Good morning, Miss Darrington.” Mrs Griffin strode in with a sour look on her face. Her skin was rather a yellow-grey colour and was as pale and sallow as her dress was austerely dark.

  “Good morning, Mrs Griffin. You are rather early, are you not?” Georgette was careful to keep her tone neutral. She wanted to appear neither friendly nor antagonistic.

  “Yes, there has been a change of plan.”

  “Oh yes?” Georgette, still sitting at the table, looked up at the housekeeper.

  “You are first to meet the nurse and your new charges.”

  “At ten o’clock when I was supposed to be meeting the Duke?” Georgette said, ostensibly seeking clarification.

  “No, you are still to meet His Grace at ten o’clock, as initially arranged.”

  “And when am I to meet the nurse and my new charges?” Georgette said, proud that she was able to keep her voice steady in the face of such open animosity.

  “You are to meet them immediately. The nurse has made them ready early this morning, and they are awaiting you in the schoolroom.”

  “Are the children ordinarily in the schoolroom by half past eight in the morning, Mrs Griffin?”

  “No. Mrs Wells, their nurse, has made them ready early this morning so that they might meet you.”

  “So, presumably this particular plan was well-known yesterday?” Georgette said, feeling her annoyance begin to rise.

  It was clear to her that when the housekeeper had left her yesterday afternoon, she had been perfectly well aware that she would be returning at half past eight the following morning and not just before ten o’clock as she had intimated. It was another little act clearly designed to make Georgette nervous and flustered and rather harried by the time she was taken before her new employer. It was a little act which had clearly been decided between the housekeeper and the nurse rather than something that the Duke had decreed.

  “I beg your pardon, Miss Darrington?” The housekeeper looked a little unsettled, and her face very much suggested one who had been found out.

  “It matters not, for I am ready in any case,” Georgette said, deciding that she would not continue the argument any further.

  After all, she had no need. As far as Georgette was concerned, her point had been made without any fuss. She would meet the nurse and the children and remain calm for the planned visit to the Duke. If the housekeeper had been told to have her there by ten o’clock, then Georgette knew that she would arrive on time. After all, if they arrived late to the Duke, it would undoubtedly be the housekeeper herself who was in hot water with their master, and not Georgette.

  Georgette rose to her feet and, calmly walking past Mrs Griffin, took her breakfast tray out and laid it on the table in the corridor. She returned to the room and gave the housekeeper a watery smile.

  “Well, I am ready when you are, Mrs Griffin.”

  “Right,” Mrs Griffin said, clearly disappointed not to have caused great consternation in the heart of the newest member of the household. “If you would care to follow me, I shall take you directly to the schoolroom.”

  “How very kind, Mrs Griffin,” Georgette responded without a hint of warmth in her tone.

  Chapter Six

  Georgette had been careful to make an absolute note of every turn they took on their way to the schoolroom.
She would not leave herself in the position of having to ask for directions ever again.

  The schoolroom, when they reached it, was really rather delightful. It was a much bigger room than Georgette had been expecting, and she could imagine herself quite content to spend her days in it. It was painted in a very pale lemon yellow with every piece of skirting and door and window frame painted white. The drapes were rather golden and in a light brocade fabric which did not detract from the light and bright feel of the room whatsoever.

  The windows were numerous and gave out onto the rear of the great mansion, onto grounds which were as spectacular at the back as they were at the front. What made the view even better was the fact that Georgette could see clear across to the hills and the woodlands, some near, some distant. It was quite breathtaking, and she thought it a view that she would never tire of looking at, even though she thought herself quite a determined town dweller.

  In the very center of the windows was a great glazed double door, leading straight out onto a small flagstoned area. At that time of year, Georgette thought the arrangement a most perfect one and already had it in mind to take the children outside for a portion of the day to learn a little about nature and to keep them alert.

  The schoolroom itself did not contain little desks for the children, but rather one great table at which the governess and her pupils were expected to sit together. The very fact was highlighted by the sight of a woman she presumed to be the nurse and two small and very fair-haired little girls who were already sitting at it. The nurse did not look up when they entered but continued with some seemingly clumsy attempt at some sort of lesson with the children.

  Having already prepared herself for a certain amount of rudeness, Georgette looked away from the table and surveyed the rest of the room. There was a large stone fireplace, larger even than the greatest of the fireplaces in her father’s home in London. The iron grate was truly enormous and was set, although it had not been lit. In truth, with the sun full up, the day was unlikely to find itself cold enough to need a fire.