The Reluctant Governess

by Anne Mather

  ‘We—we just got in the car and came back,’ Victoria said at last, hoping the child would not probe too deeply. She felt too raw as yet to consider her emotions dispassionately. She had never felt like this before, and it was a devastating feeling.

  Sophie frowned. ‘I don’t believe you. Papa was gone almost an hour. If he had found you on the way home to Reichstein, what took so long?’

  Victoria sighed. ‘All right,’ she said heavily. ‘We—we argued.’

  Sophie’s face brightened. ‘Who won?’

  ‘Oh, nobody won,’ cried Victoria helplessly. ‘We’re not at war, you know.’

  Sophie wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh well, it sounds odd to me. Papa leaving fräulein Spiegel for so long! I’m sure she was positively livid!’

  Victoria looked uncomprehendingly at the child. ‘fräulein Spiegel?’ she said questioningly. ‘Who is that?’

  Sophie ran her tongue over her lips. ‘Ha, wouldn’t you like to know!’

  Victoria lifted her shoulders, too tired to really care. ‘Not particularly,’ she replied indifferently, and then smiled warmly at Maria when she presented her with a bowl of delicious beef broth. ‘Thank you. This is just what I need.’

  Sophie watched her spooning soup into her mouth with speculative eyes, and Victoria knew she was dying for Victoria to show some interest in her secret. At last she said:

  ‘We have a house guest.’

  ‘I know.’ Victoria swallowed some soup.

  Sophie frowned. ‘Did Papa tell you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Sophie looked sulky. ‘So you know who fräulein Spiegel is?’

  Victoria frowned now. ‘No! Oh, I see!’ Comprehension dawned. ‘fräulein Spiegel is the house guest.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Sophie looped her arms round her drawn-up knees. ‘She’s very beautiful. Are you jealous?’

  Victoria was horrified. ‘Jealous!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Of course. You like Papa, don’t you?’

  Victoria shook her head. ‘This morning you said I didn’t like him.’

  ‘Papa talked about you while we were out. He said you provided a strong influence for me to be guided by.’

  Victoria couldn’t prevent the surge of colour that flooded her pale cheeks. ‘How interesting,’ she commented.

  Sophie watched her intently. ‘He said he thought you were a good teacher.’

  Victoria lifted her shoulders. ‘Good.’

  Sophie sniffed again. ‘He wanted you to come with us. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘He invited me, yes,’ said Victoria.

  ‘No, I don’t mean that. I mean—he wanted you to come. He didn’t care whether I did or not.’

  Victoria was astounded. ‘That’s nonsense,’ she exclaimed.

  Sophie’s face was brooding. ‘No, it’s not. Then—then this fräulein Spiegel joined us and—well, he had no time for me at all.’

  Victoria heaved a sigh. So that was why Sophie was so disturbed. For some reason she had gained the impression that the outing had not been intended for her pleasure. And now this Spiegel woman was here to distract her father’s attention yet again.

  ‘I shouldn’t exaggerate things if I were you,’ Victoria remarked lightly. ‘Parents are very often distracted by other adults. If your mother was here, your father would probably devote himself to her.’

  Just saying the words turned the knife in Victoria’s stomach, and finishing the soup she got to her feet.

  ‘My father hated my mother!’ said Sophie suddenly and violently. ‘And you know where she is!’

  Victoria could stand no more of this. ‘I’ll go to my room, Maria,’ she said, to the old housekeeper. ‘I don’t want anything else to eat. That soup was marvellous, but I’m very weary and I think I’ll have an early night. Will you express my regrets to the Baron …’

  ‘I’ll tell him,’ said Sophie, cupping her chin on one hand.

  ‘I shall tell the Herr Baron,’ said Maria firmly. ‘Now, are you sure you are all right, fräulein?’

  Victoria nodded and made her way up to her room. It was a relief to close the door and know that she was able to shut out the world and all its problems. Stripping off her clothes, she got into bed, shivering slightly despite the fire, but it was as much from apprehension as anything. She didn’t dare to consider the consequences of that interlude in the car, and the prospect of meeting this unknown woman filled her with dismay. Who was she? What part did she play in the Baron’s life? Did she also know his wife?

  Victoria rolled on to her stomach, punching her pillows wearily. Thoughts plagued her and she must put them all aside. She hoped the Baron would not attempt to find out whether she was all right later in the evening when he discovered she had had no dinner. But happily, after a few minutes, immense tiredness took its toll of her body and she slept …

  CHAPTER NINE

  APART from a headache, for which she took a couple of aspirins, Victoria felt quite all right the next morning. She supposed she was extremely lucky to have got off so lightly. So easily could she have been seriously injured. To her surprise, however, Maria knocked at the door of her bedroom just as she was struggling into her clothes and when Victoria admitted her she found was carrying a tray on which reposed a pot of coffee, some hot rolls and curls of butter, and delicious raspberry conserve. She expressed surprise to find Victoria out of bed, and went on:

  ‘The Herr Baron’s instructions were that you should remain in bed for the whole of the day, fräulein.’

  Victoria linked and unlinked her fingers. ‘Well, that was—very thoughtful of him, of course, but I would rather get up—if you don’t mind?’

  ‘Mir, fräulein!’ exclaimed Maria. ‘It is not up to me to decide. If you wish to come down, then do so.’

  Victoria managed a faint smile. ‘Well, as my fire appears to have died during the night, perhaps we could go down now? Besides,’ she touched Maria’s arm awkwardly, ‘I would prefer to be with you. My—my own company does not appeal to me.’

  Maria’s lined face softened. ‘Sehr gut, fräuleins,’ she nodded. ‘Come! I will carry the tray.’

  Gustav was in the kitchen and offered his sympathy at the unfortunate accident she had had the day before. His gruff friendliness was balm to Victoria’s bruised spirit, and her spirits lightened considerably.

  While she was eating her breakfast, Sophie appeared and stared at Victoria critically. ‘You look terrible, fräulein,’ she announced callously, standing, hands on hips, in front of her.

  Victoria raised her eyebrows. ‘Thank you,’ she responded dryly. ‘It’s always nice to know you’re looking your best.’

  Sophie wrinkled her nose. ‘Well,’ she said defensively, ‘Papa gave Maria instructions that you were to stay in bed today.’

  Victoria sipped her coffee. ‘I don’t like staying in bed when I’m not ill,’ she answered. ‘Besides, we have some work to do.’

  Sophie shrugged. ‘I don’t have to work if I don’t want to. Papa said so.’

  ‘Expecting, no doubt, that I would not be around.’

  ‘Perhaps. Anyway, I don’t see why I should work at weekends.’

  Victoria inclined her head. ‘All right. We’ll look at that material I told you about instead.’

  Sophie grimaced. ‘Papa and fräulein Spiegel are going out in the station wagon. I want to go with them.’

  Victoria sighed. ‘Oh, go, then,’ she said impatiently, too weary to argue with her.

  ‘You haven’t been invited, Sophie,’ remarked Maria, kneading dough at the other end of the table. ‘Perhaps you ought to accept fräulein Monroe’s suggestion and stay with her.’

  ‘What do you know about it?’ flared Sophie. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to look at any material!’

  Victoria bent her head and replaced her coffee cup on the table. Maria looked at her with understanding, and Victoria reflected that the old woman had some sympathy for her after all.

  Sophie disappeared after that, and Victoria hel
ped Maria to clear the table before walking briskly along to the Baron’s study. In dark slacks and sweater, she looked annoyingly fragile, but at least leaving her hair loose had enabled her to hide most of the unbecoming bruise on her forehead. She tapped at the study door, and when there was no reply heaved a sigh of relief. Obviously the Baron did not intend using his study this morning and she and Sophie could use it if Sophie reappeared.

  A glowing fire sent shadows leaping up the wall, for outside it was grey and dismal and not at all as pleasant as it had been for several days now. There was no sun, and the clouds hung low over the peaks, obscuring their summits from view.

  Victoria seated herself at the desk and began to make notes from a handbook on prehistoric history. She was lost in a world of mammoths and cave-dwellers when without warning the study door opened and a woman came in. Victoria looked up in surprise, unable for a moment to take in who she might be. And then realisation came to her. This was the fräulein Spiegel, Sophie had spoken about, the very beautiful fräulein Spiegel.

  And in truth, she was beautiful, very beautiful. Her hair was the same silvery shade as the Baron’s, and she wore it cut very short so that it framed her head like a cap accentuating the moulded lines of her features. She had dark eyes set in in a small piquant face to which she had added only eye make-up. She was wearing a caftan-styled dressing-robe, made of some gorgeous jungle print, and as she was very small and very slender she looked like some exotic reed swaying in the wind.

  And if Victoria was surprised to see her, she was infinitely more surprised to see Victoria seated at her host’s desk in his study. After a moment’s piercing surveillance, she said sharply: ‘Wo ist der Baron?’

  Victoria bit her lip. ‘I’m afraid I only speak English,’ she said. ‘Do you understand?’

  fräulein Spiegel frowned. ‘Who are you and what are you doing in the Baron’s study?’ she snapped in perfect English. Victoria was astonished. The fräulein was either an expert linguist or she was most definitely not Austrian.

  She controlled her curiosity, however, and got to her feet. ‘My name is Victoria Monroe. I am Sophie’s governess. We use the Baron’s study as a schoolroom,’ she explained.

  fräulein Spiegel’s eyes narrowed. ‘I see. And where is your employer?’

  Victoria shrugged awkwardly. ‘I have no idea. He usually rises early and is out about the estate at this time.’

  ‘I see.’ fräulein Spiegel bit her lip. ‘We are going to visit some friends this morning. I wanted to know what time we are leaving.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Victoria politely.

  ‘Yes,’ fräulein Spiegel’s eyes flickered. ‘You’re very young to be a governess, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m twenty-four, fräulein,’ replied Victoria, rather stiffly.

  ‘As I said—very young.’ fräulein Spiegel raised her eyebrows derisively and Victoria realised that the other woman was not as young as she had at first thought her. She was certainly in her thirties, possibly late thirties, the Baron’s own age, in fact.

  ‘So long as I am capable, I don’t see that age matters,’ Victoria said now. ‘And Sophie and I seem to get along very well together.’ That was perhaps an exaggeration, she thought unhappily, but justifiable in the circumstances.

  fräulein Spiegel smoothed the soft material of her dressing robe. ‘Yes, Sophie,’ she said, slowly and thoughtfully. ‘Rather an annoying child, don’t you think?’

  Victoria coloured now. ‘No, I don’t,’ she denied hotly. ‘She’s just—well, insecure, that’s all. Her—her mother’s absence doesn’t help, of course.’

  The older woman frowned. ‘Elsa? Hmm …’ She shrugged. ‘However, as Elsa will not be coming back, she ought to be getting over it by now.’

  Victoria’s fingers gripped the rim of the desk. ‘A—a child needs—a woman,’ she ventured carefully.

  ‘Oh, I agree, I agree,’ exclaimed fräulein Spiegel expansively. ‘But Sophie is hardly a child now, is she? I mean—she will be going back to boarding school eventually, will she not?’

  Victoria bent her head. ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘And then your job will be finished?’

  ‘Yes, fräulein.’

  ‘Hmm …’ fräulein Spiegel felt in the pocket of her gown and brought out some cigarettes. ‘Do you smoke?’

  Victoria shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’

  The other woman lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, savouring the nicotine into her lungs with obvious pleasure. Then she looked again at Victoria. ‘What brought a girl like yourself to Reichstein?’ she exclaimed. ‘Surely there are more amenable places to work!’

  Victoria compressed her lips. ‘I like it here.’

  ‘You didn’t answer my question. I said what brought you here.’

  ‘Nothing brought me here except the position,’ replied Victoria tautly.

  fräulein Spiegel looked at her through a veil of smoke. ‘No? You didn’t perhaps meet the handsome Baron and decide you had a chance to become the next Baroness?’

  Victoria’s cheeks burned. ‘Of course not.’

  fräulein Spiegel smiled unpleasantly. ‘But from your attitude I would say that possibly that idea has occurred to you since.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Victoria was impatient. ‘Besides, the Baron already has a wife!’

  fräulein Spiegel gave a brief laugh. ‘Sophie has a mother,’ she amended harshly. ‘That’s quite a different thing!’

  Victoria stared at her in bewilderment. Her words didn’t make sense and they hung in the air between them for a long silent moment. Then, without warning, Sophie squeezed past fräulein Spiegel and entered the study, looking broodingly at them both. Her intervention broke the silence, but Victoria wondered with a sinking sense of anxiety exactly how long Sophie had been outside possibly listening to their conversation.

  Now she perched on the corner of the desk and looked at fräulein Spiegel. ‘Aren’t you dressed yet?’ she asked scornfully. ‘Papa doesn’t like slovenliness!’

  ‘Sophie!’ Victoria’s voice was jerky. ‘Apologise at once.’

  Sophie grimaced. ‘Why? It’s true. She’s not dressed, is she?’

  fräulein Spiegel tapped ash delicately into an ashtray. ‘Listen, you impertinent little minx, the gown I am presently wearing is called a housecoat, and therefore it can be worn about the house!’

  Sophie shrugged. ‘This isn’t a house. It’s a schloss!’

  The older woman gave a gesture of distaste. ‘I have no intention of bandying words with you, my child. I have better things to occupy my time. fräulein Monroe! Will you ask the Baron to come and see me when he returns? I shall be in my room.’

  ‘Yes, fräulein!’ Victoria answered automatically, and fräulein Spiegel disappeared in a aura of cigarette smoke and exotic perfume.

  After she had gone, Sophie slid off the desk and closed the door, looking challengingly at Victoria.

  ‘You were very rude,’ said Victoria quietly, sitting down. Quite honestly, she felt little desire to talk to Sophie right now. She had too many things to think about, and the implications of fräulein Spiegel’s words could not be denied. What did it all mean? Had the Baron a wife, or hadn’t he? And if he had not, who was Sophie’s mother? And where was she now? It didn’t seem possible that a man as honourable as the Baron could have seduced some village girl and then taken the child and adopted her as his daughter.

  ‘I don’t like her,’ said Sophie moodily. ‘And she doesn’t like me, you know that.’

  ‘I know no such thing!’ exclaimed Victoria. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sophie, stop touching that ink, you’re getting it all over your fingers.’

  Sophie exhaled loudly. Then she examined her fingers. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? I told you I wasn’t going to work today.’

  Victoria controlled her temper. ‘I hesitate to remind you, Sophie, but if I decide to work, we will work, do you understand?’

  Sophie sniffed. ‘Oh, don’t get on your high ho
rse! I know you can twist Papa round your little finger!’

  Victoria was flabbergasted. ‘That’s not true!’ she said, appalled.

  ‘I think it is.’ Sophie lounged into a chair. Then she put her head on one side. ‘fräulein Spiegel doesn’t like you either.’

  Victoria pushed her books aside. ‘Will you stop behaving like an amateur psychologist. You know absolutely nothing about either your father’s, or fräulein Spiegel’s, feelings, and you’re just trying to create trouble! Well, so far as I am concerned, I’m wise to your little machinations, so stop it!’

  Sophie grimaced, draping her legs over the arm of the chair. ‘You always treat me like a child! I’m not, you know. I’m almost ten. In India girls get married younger than me and they have babies when they’re only about fourteen—or younger even!’

  ‘This is not India,’ Victoria reminded her dryly.

  ‘I know. But what happens in one place can happen in another!’ Sophie fluttered her eyelashes experimentally. ‘Did you have many boy-friends when you were in England? When you were a teenager?’

  Victoria sighed. ‘Some,’ she admitted guardedly.

  ‘Have you ever had a baby?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  Sophie shrugged indifferently. ‘Do you have to be married to have babies?’ she asked curiously.

  Victoria got abruptly to her feet. ‘I don’t think we need discuss it right now,’ she said quellingly.

  Sophie widened her eyes. ‘Why? I’m interested. I don’t think my mother was married to my father when she had me!’

  ‘Sophie!’ Victoria was angry.

  Sophie looked indignant. ‘I’m not telling lies.’

  ‘I don’t care whether you are or not, I just don’t want to hear about it!’

  Sophie shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not. Unless you’re afraid my father—--’

  Victoria’s fingers gripped the desk so hard they hurt. ‘I’ve told you before, Sophie,’ she snapped, ‘I am not afraid of your father!’

  ‘What is going on here?’