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

by Bridget Barton

  On either side of the great fireplace were two high-backed armchairs, each covered in the same golden brocade as the drapes had been made from. There was a low and rather ornate little oak table between the two chairs, seemingly ideal for the placement of a tea tray.

  A little further back from the chairs was a small couch which looked neat and just a little uncomfortable in a very pale blue velvet. All in all, the little seating area around the fire was very pleasing to Georgette, and she fully determined to make the little schoolroom her very own. After all, now that she was there to teach the children, there would be no need for the sort of clumsy lesson that their nurse was currently giving them, and therefore no need for the nurse to be present.

  Also in the room was a large piano, positioned just under the windows for maximum light. Georgette smiled as she looked at it and remembered her own governess as a child teaching her how to navigate what seemed to her then to be giant keys. In truth, she rather looked forward to the idea of teaching a little musical accomplishment to the children.

  “You must concentrate, both of you.” The nurse had rather a deep voice, something akin to a man’s. “Eleri, please read the word I have written there,” Mrs Wells said, sounding rather agitated.

  Since Georgette and Mrs Griffin had entered the room, the nurse had, quite unsuccessfully, attempted to get the child called Eleri to read the word. Again, she was greeted with silence.

  Georgette turned her attention to the table and the little scene which had obviously been set up for her benefit. No doubt it had been meant to show her that the services of the governess were not required since the nurse had everything working like clockwork. However, the plan likely had not been made to cover the fact that the children had not been taught properly and to simply write a word, thrust it beneath the child’s nose, and expect them to know it was hardly a constructive lesson. Georgette bit back a smirk of amusement.

  “Read it,” the nurse said, clearly feeling a little foolish and taking the whole thing out on the child.

  “I cannot read it, Mrs Wells, for I do not know what it says,” the little girl responded in a surprisingly clear voice, despite the tremor it held.

  Not only was the little voice quite clear, but the accent was not English. Georgette had heard the wonderfully lyrical tones of a Welsh accent before now in London, many times, in fact, but never from such a small child. It sounded truly beautiful to Georgette, and she smiled as she looked at the little girl.

  “Eleri, I have already shown you a picture of a horse. You knew what that was,” the nurse said, her tone quite unforgiving. “Now I am showing you a word. Is it not obvious that the word I am showing you is horse?”

  “No, Mrs Wells,” came the beautiful little Welsh voice.

  “Well, you look long and hard at that word, my girl, because it says horse. Now you remember that; you learn it so that you know it in future.”

  Georgette had to bite her tongue for fear of exclaiming aloud. Whatever system of learning was the dreadful nurse hoping to show off?

  “Good morning,” Georgette said, keen to be ignored no longer and certain that she wanted to put an end to the little girl’s misery. “Forgive me for interrupting your lesson, Mrs Wells, but Mrs Griffin rather told me that you were expecting me.”

  “Yes,” the older woman said, scowling for all she was worth.

  In truth, she had made a fool of herself with her pathetic attempt at undermining the governess before she had even started, and it was clear to Georgette that the woman knew it.

  “Tell me, have you been long without a governess? I see that you yourself are helping to teach the children.” Georgette smiled as she spoke, keen to give the impression that she was simply interested.

  “It has been some weeks since the last one left,” the nurse said, her face a picture of disdain.

  The nurse looked to Georgette to be well into her fiftieth year, if not beyond. She was rather a large sort of a woman, with broad shoulders and big hands and eyebrows which, quite disconcertingly, seemed almost to meet in the middle. The eyebrows gave her the impression of perpetually scowling, and Georgette could not help thinking that her very countenance must frighten the children.

  “Oh dear, that must have been a sore trial to you, Mrs Wells.”

  “It certainly was. I am only supposed to work with the children at mealtimes and getting them into and out of bed. Since the last governess left, it has been down to me to spend all day with them also.” Mrs Wells seemed entirely put out by that.

  Georgette could not help being perplexed by the curious behaviour of the upper-level servants in the house. It would appear that Mrs Wells was to be no different. While she resented the fact that she had been forced to work all day, instead of her rather more comfortable hours as nurse, still she was keen to point out that the services of the governess were not needed. Were all of the servants this contrary, Georgette wondered, or was it simply a little handful at the top?

  “Then you must be pleased to relinquish the extra duties which have been dropped upon you, are you not?” Georgette said, rather painting the woman into a corner.

  “Well yes, of course,” Mrs Wells said, quickly realizing that the new governess had blown their little plan clean out of the water.

  After all, she could not one moment complain about her working hours and, in the next, complain that somebody had come to relieve her of such hours. Perhaps Mrs Wells had made enough of a fool of herself that morning and did not wish to continue to dig the hole she had begun to make for herself.

  Georgette could sense Mrs Griffin stiffening at her side and turned to look at her, another frozen smile on her face.

  “And I must say, this is a rather wonderful little schoolroom, Mrs Griffin. I think I shall like it here.” Georgette held the housekeeper’s gaze and saw the annoyance there. Still, she would not look away.

  “That is what they all say,” Mrs Griffin said, entirely abandoning the last vestiges of good manners.

  “Is it really?” Georgette said, her voice determinedly incredulous. “How very curious that every governess who walks into this room says precisely the same thing.” Georgette shook her head to indicate that she thought the housekeeper’s words entirely without merit.

  In truth, she wondered if she was doing the right thing or if she was simply needlessly antagonizing a woman who could make life very difficult for her. However, Georgette rather thought that the housekeeper and her little group had already fully determined to make life difficult for the new governess, and she thought that there would be little reward in seeking to ingratiate herself. In truth, ingratiating herself would simply have come as painful to her.

  “Well, since I have now met Mrs Wells, perhaps it is time for me to meet the children. After all, is that not the purpose of our early morning visit?” Georgette continued to hold the housekeeper’s gaze.

  When the housekeeper did not speak, and the nurse shuffled awkwardly in her seat, Georgette simply made her way over to the table. Taking one of the seats opposite the little girls, she sat down and smiled at them broadly.

  “So, I already know that your name is Eleri,” Georgette said, reaching out to touch the little girl’s hand. “But I do not yet know your name.” With her other hand, she reached out to touch the other little girl.

  “My name is Ffion, Miss,” the little girl said in a much quieter voice than her sister’s.

  “What beautiful names you have.” Georgette continued to smile at the girls, feeling a little sad that they both appeared so very wary of her. “And I am Miss Darrington.”

  The girls did not speak but merely continued to regard her with suspicion.

  “And I can tell from your names and your lovely accents that you both come from Wales,” she went on when the silence seemed to have opened up just a little too much.

  “Yes, Miss Darrington,” Eleri said, and Georgette noted that both girls seemed pleased by her observation.

  “Yes, we are,” Ffion added, just a li
ttle after her sister.

  “And what part of Wales do you come from?” Georgette looked at them with a great show of interest which both girls visibly responded to.

  “His Grace doesn’t encourage this,” Mrs Wells said and sniffed loudly in disapproval.

  Georgette, annoyed by the intrusion, simply looked at Mrs Wells and smiled before turning her attention back to the girls. She could see that they were, once again, unsure of themselves and rather more unsure of their governess. Well, Georgette would not stand for such interference from a woman who thrust a piece of paper with the word horse written crudely upon it in front of a small child, expecting them to learn from it.

  “Are you from the north or the south of Wales?” Georgette went on, ignoring the rather unpleasant sound of the large nurse clearing her throat in annoyance.

  “We are from the north, Miss Darrington,” Eleri said, keeping her eyes averted from the imposing figure of Mrs Wells.

  “And what is the name of the place you are from?” Georgette looked at both girls but felt sure that Eleri would be the one to answer.

  It was clear that Eleri was the protector and tiny spokesperson for the twins, and Georgette knew that she would have to give Ffion a great deal of attention to draw her out a little more.

  “Beddgelert, Miss Darrington.”

  “Bethgellet?” Georgette said, trying to imitate the pronunciation.

  “Yes, Miss Darrington,” Eleri said, and both little girls looked amused.

  “I have not said it quite right, have I?” Georgette said, smiling broadly at them.

  “Nearly, Miss Darrington. It sounds funny when you say it,” Eleri went on, whilst Ffion smiled but essentially remained silent.

  “Well, it is a good thing that I have you both here so that you can help me to say Welsh words properly,” Georgette said. “We shall be able to teach each other, shall we not?”

  “The master will not be happy about that,” Mrs Wells went on, quite determined. “He does not want Welsh spoken in this house, nor place names talked of. He is quite determined in it.” Mrs Wells sat back in her seat with an air of one who was entirely satisfied with herself.

  “Bethgelert?” Georgette said, trying again and ignoring the children’s nurse entirely.

  “That is right, Miss Darrington,” Eleri said, mightily impressed.

  “Yes,” Ffion said simply but with a certain amount of determination.

  “Well now, I have learned something already,” Georgette said with a smile.

  “But perhaps not everything that you are being taught,” Mrs Griffin said, her voice coming out in rather a hiss.

  “Perhaps I ought to deal with matters of the children’s education, Miss Griffin, and leave you to the no doubt arduous tasks of the housekeeper,” Georgette said, suddenly serious. “And perhaps any other such concerns you might have could be made to me outside of the children’s presence. After all, I am sure that none of us here would wish to upset Eleri and Ffion in any way, would we?” Georgette raised her eyebrows at the housekeeper and then turned to look directly at the nurse. “Would we?” she said again, her tone full of authority.

  “Well, it is perhaps best we leave the schoolroom for it is almost time for you to meet His Grace,” the housekeeper said, quite determined not to give in to Georgette.

  However, Georgette had expected nothing less and no longer feared antagonizing the woman. Obviously, her presence was enough to antagonize the sour-faced housekeeper and her rotund compadre.

  “Yes, of course,” Georgette said, regaining her tone of neutrality. “Well, girls, it really has been a pleasure to meet you both, and I am very much looking forward to the time that we are going to spend together.” She turned to look at the girls and smiled at them encouragingly.

  Georgette was pleased to see the two little faces brighten when she looked at them and knew that she had a way of getting into the hearts of the little girls after all.

  “Well, it has been a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Wells,” Georgette said with a tight smile and little feeling. “If you will excuse me, Mrs Griffin tells me it is time to meet the Duke.”

  “Of course,” the nurse said, the displeasure on her face telling Georgette most distinctly that the whole thing was not over.

  Chapter Seven

  Georgette was surprised to discover that the Duke’s study was on the very same corridor as the schoolroom, just a few doors away. The housekeeper had chosen to speak not one word throughout their short walk and, when they came to a halt outside the door to the study, Mrs Griffin simply folded her arms across her chest and stared at the door frame.

  “Are we not going inside?” Georgette said, becoming somewhat exasperated with the older woman’s childish behaviour.

  “It is not yet ten o’clock. It is only ten minutes to the hour.”

  “Then why did we leave the schoolroom?” Georgette said, not entirely confrontational, but neither was she in the mood to placate the woman.

  “Because His Grace insists upon punctuality,” she said and looked away from her again to resume her study of the door frame.

  Georgette decided to refrain from telling the woman that they were not punctual, they were simply early. She could not help thinking that for them to simply stand uselessly outside the Duke’s study door for the next ten minutes seemed entirely pointless. However, Georgette rather wondered if she had not pushed the woman quite far enough for one day and, in the end, kept her thoughts to herself.

  When they had stood awkwardly for more than five minutes, the door to the Duke’s study suddenly flew open, and a well-dressed and rather thin man of middle age walked out. He held his head so very high and stood so very straight-backed that Georgette was curiously reminded of Mr Pearson, the butler. However, his clothes were quite different altogether, more or less those of a gentleman. For a moment, she wondered if it were the Duke himself. However, he simply looked her up and down, vaguely nodded at the housekeeper, and strode away.

  Georgette looked at Mrs Griffin and raised her eyebrows in silent question.

  “Mr Edward Camden,” Mrs Griffin said when Georgette continued to stare at her, determined for an answer. “The Duke’s steward.”

  “Oh,” Georgette said airily and wondered if there was a single person, besides Daisy, in all of Draycott Hall who had five minutes’ worth of manners within them.

  After all, if his staff were anything to go by, the Duke himself must be simply dreadful.

  As they continued to stand there, Georgette rather thought that Mrs Griffin was suddenly a little nervous. She seemed to be leaning forward a little as if straining to hear, and Georgette wondered quite why it was that she did not merely knock on the door.

  When she heard the chiming of a clock drifting out in a rather muffled way through the heavy wooden door, Georgette was entirely surprised to see the housekeeper suddenly straighten up and reach out to knock the door. For heaven’s sake, did that not take punctuality just a little beyond ordinary expectation?

  “Enter,” came a rather deep voice from within and, once again, Georgette was reminded of the pompous butler. Quite clearly, the dreadful man had modeled himself on an amalgam of his betters.

  “Your Grace,” Mrs Griffin said in simpering tones as she took two steps into the study and curtsied.

  Georgette simply followed her in and mutely curtsied in the same fashion. “I have brought the new governess to see you,” Mrs Griffin said, and Georgette almost winced to hear how she was going to be introduced. After all, did she not have a name?

  “Yes, of course,” the Duke said, looking up as if he had quite forgotten the whole thing and now found himself running short of time and greatly exasperated by their sudden appearance. “You may leave us, Mrs Griffin,” he said, without even looking at the woman.

  Georgette watched out of the corner of her eye with some amusement as Mrs Griffin curtsied rather deeply once again and seemed to leave the room backward, almost as if the Duke of Draycott were, in fact, the King,
and she dare not turn her back on him.

  “Well, yes …” The Duke said, squinting at her and suddenly somewhat displeased. “Miss …” He seemed entirely wrong-footed by her appearance.

  “Miss Darrington, Your Grace,” Georgette supplied helpfully.

  “Oh yes, of course,” he said in an offhand manner which rather suggested that her name was neither here nor there, for he did not need or intend to commit it to memory. “And you arrived yesterday, did you not?” he said as if he was giving himself a moment or two to think.

  “Indeed, I did, Your Grace. I arrived yesterday afternoon,” Georgette said and found his habit of not specifically looking at her as he spoke somewhat annoying. However, he was a Duke, and he could likely do just as he pleased.

  As the Duke made some little performance of shuffling papers on his desk, Georgette made a quick study of the room. In truth, the study itself was not very much larger than the one that her father had maintained back in their Mayfair townhouse. But perhaps a study, unlike a drawing room, did not need to be proportionate to the size of the house. After all, it was the room of just one person with very few guests, saving attorneys and stewards and other such similar people, expected to attend it.

  Had the room not been quite so filled with cabinets and dark shelves and a great number of ledgers and such the like, it might well have appeared as light and bright as the schoolroom. It had been painted in a very similar way although, whereas the schoolroom was a pale lemon, the Duke’s study was an extremely pale blue, rather like the sky in winter. It rather struck her as a curious colour for the Duke to have in his study, for most studies she had been in were really rather masculine affairs, with dark paintwork and heavy drapery, giving the whole thing the appearance of a cave or a large box.

  However, the careful paintwork had done much to spare the room such a fate and the two immense windows did much to stop the dark woodwork and cluttered shelves from drawing the light from their surroundings.