And were their Nain and Taid the parents of their mother or their father? If their mother was, indeed, deceased, what had become of their father? And why could they not have stayed in Wales with him or their grandparents?
The tiny girls were so young and fragile that Georgette knew she could not press them any further in an attempt to discover more. She would simply have to find out the rest of their story by other means.
“So, are you pleased to have a governess again so that your lessons can begin properly?” Georgette changed the subject altogether and did so in a bright and cheerful manner.
“Yes, we were sad when Miss Quentin left,” Eleri said, and both girls looked down at the top of the great table.
“Did you like Miss Quentin very much?”
“Yes.” Eleri nodded.
“She was nice,” Ffion said, her voice a little tremulous. “But she went away.”
“I am very sorry to hear that. Was Miss Quentin here with you for long?”
“Not really, Miss Darrington. Just a little while, but it was nice,” Eleri said.
“And there was another governess here before Miss Quentin?” Georgette knew that she was digging for information again but rather thought talk of the previous governesses put her on much safer ground than talk of the children’s parents might.
“Yes, that was Miss Erskine,” Eleri said, squinting in her effort to draw the memory of the woman to mind.
“She was nice too,” Ffion said, looking sad once again.
“Was Miss Erskine here with you for long?”
“I think it was a shorter time than Miss Quentin was,” Eleri said. “And the lady before was here an even shorter time than that.” She paused for a moment, her chubby face wrinkled in concentration. “But I cannot remember her name.” She looked at Ffion who shook her head. Clearly, Ffion could not bring her to mind either.
Georgette, despite not having all the facts, was forming something of a picture in her mind. Owing to the childish insecurities of the servants and the bullish dismissal of any complaints by a guardian so detached from his charges that he ought to be ashamed, three governesses had come and gone in quick succession, and the tiny girls had suffered for it.
With just a few words and their sad little countenances, Eleri and Ffion had told her quite clearly that they had liked and grown close to each of the governesses, only to have them disappear suddenly and without explanation.
Georgette could not help thinking how dreadfully unsettling it must be for two little girls, no longer in their own country, never mind their own home. If they had lost their own parents, the continual loss of young women they had formed rather instant attachments to would likely have been not only upsetting but must also have made them a little afraid—as if nothing was safe or solid in their little world.
The very thought of it brought sudden and unexpected tears into Georgette’s eyes, and she had to blink rapidly to disperse them before they fell. The idea that the nurse, the dreadful Mrs Wells, was the only constant in the lives of the girls was quite insupportable to Georgette, and she determined at that moment that she would not willingly leave them.
As hard as it was going to be, and as spiteful as many of the servants had proved themselves, Georgette was a grown woman, and she knew she must do everything in her power to make Eleri and Ffion feel safe and loved.
The Story Continues…
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Bridget Barton was born and raised in Fort Worth, Texas.
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Regency Romance Collection: Regency Fire: The Historical Regency Romance Complete Series (Books 1-5) Page 38
