The Reluctant Governess

by Anne Mather

  Victoria felt the colour drain out of her face. ‘Oh,’ she said inadequately.

  Sophie hunched her shoulders. ‘I don’t suppose Maria told you that, did she?’

  Victoria shook her head silently.

  ‘I thought not. Anyway …’ Sophie bent her head and studied her fingernails, ‘I don’t care. I don’t need anybody!’

  Victoria rose to her feet. ‘Don’t dramatise yourself, Sophie,’ she advised. ‘Be thankful you have at least one parent.’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘Have I?’ she asked moodily, and Victoria sat down again, the child’s revelations going round and round in her head. If what Sophie had said was true, and there was no reason to suppose it was not, it explained so many things. So many half-hinted allusions became hard facts and she began to understand the problems the Baron had with his daughter. It was unfortunate really that she was aware of what had happened. It would have been easier to explain to an older child. She was far too imaginative at the moment to be trusted with such knowledge. It brought one to the obvious question: what place did Sophie imagine she held in this household? And why was her mother’s earlier marriage not dissolved when it was discovered and Sophie’s parents reunited?

  ‘Tell me, Sophie,’ she said now, ‘how long have you known about your mother? Who told you?’

  Sophie looked up in surprise. ‘Why, she did, of course. She never liked me, she never wanted me. She told me so. I was always a nuisance, getting in her way …’ She broke off as though composing herself, and then continued: ‘I once broke a perfume bottle of hers. Like that one of yours I dropped. Only yours wouldn’t break. Hers did. There wasn’t much perfume in it, but she was furious. I didn’t do it on purpose, I told her that, but she never listened to me. She called me all sorts of things, horrible names! I didn’t know what half of them meant, but afterwards I looked them up. I think it was then I began to realise that we weren’t a normal family …’

  ‘And did you tell your father? I mean—did he know how your mother treated you?’

  Sophie shrugged. ‘I expect so. I don’t know. He kept out of the way. Elsa used to rant and rave at him, too. She made his life miserable, I could see that. Sometimes—sometimes I wished she would go away and stay away, but she always came back.’

  ‘Do you think she’ll come back now?’

  Sophie tugged at one of her plaits. ‘I don’t think so. I hope not.’

  Victoria bent her head. She was gradually, very gradually, beginning to understand so many things about Sophie.

  Sophie herself seemed to realise she was being too expansive, too friendly towards this governess, who was after all just another stranger. With a change of mood, she said: ‘Anyway, like I said, Papa disposed of her!’

  Victoria sighed. ‘By locking her in the north tower, I suppose.’

  ‘Yes!’ Sophie tossed her head.

  Victoria uttered an exclamation of disgust. ‘Oh, honestly, Sophie, I thought you knew me better than that! You don’t imagine I believe all that nonsense, do you? You know you’re making the whole thing up just to try and shock me. Can’t you see how ridiculous it sounds from a girl of your age? You’re past the age for making up fairy stories, Sophie. Didn’t you tell me yourself you’re almost an adolescent? Well, adolescents don’t romance about things like you do.’

  Sophie looked mutinous. ‘I’m not romancing.’

  ‘Yes, you are.’ Victoria shook her head.

  Sophie gave her an angry glare. ‘Well, anyway, that’s what I should have done with her! I wouldn’t have let her get away without punishment!’

  ‘Now we’re getting nearer the truth, aren’t we? That’s what you would like to have done, isn’t it? So you made up this ridiculous story for your own amusement. Oh, Sophie, when will you learn that we can’t solve our problems by fighting them or locking them up? We must learn to face life as it is and accept it as something less than perfect! Nobody is without problems, but everybody has someone to whom they can take their troubles and try to resolve them.’

  Sophie stared at her for a moment, and then hung her head. ‘It’s all right for you,’ she said. ‘You’re legitimate! You belong!’

  Victoria stared back. ‘And so are you, Sophie,’ she exclaimed impatiently. ‘Whatever gave you the idea that you were not?’

  But even as she said the words, Victoria wondered herself. Who was she to make sweeping statements any more than Sophie? She knew less of what had happened than the child, and while her instincts told her that it must be so, she had no proof. That would have to come from the Baron. And did the Baron realise what thoughts Sophie was harbouring? Or did he imagine Sophie was too young to understand and therefore had failed to reassure her about these things? Victoria didn’t know. She only knew that Sophie’s problems had begun long before her mother’s departure and somehow the Baron must be told. But could she tell him, feeling as she did about him? For it was obvious, to the least perceptive of minds, that her involvement with the Baron Horst von Reichstein did not stop with his daughter.

  During the next couple of days Victoria endeavoured to find an opportunity to speak alone with her employer, but to no avail. Always Marguerite Spiegel thrust her unwelcome presence between them, and in any case it seemed apparent from the Baron’s attitude that he had no particular desire to speak alone with his daughter’s governess. Maybe he considered her probing into his affairs had gone far enough and he was using the only weapon in his power to keep her at a distance: that of his authority. She speculated that he was probably glad of the other woman’s presence in this instance, for without, her company Victoria could have had a dozen opportunities presented to her.

  However, when it became obvious that Marguerite was to stay indefinitely, Victoria knew she must make an effort to speak to him. She went to his study one evening, just after dinner, when she knew Marguerite Spiegel would be present, but she hoped the Baron might allow her a few moments’ private conversation.

  When she entered the study after his bidding, she found the older woman lounging in a chair by the fire while the Baron dealt with some papers at his desk. Victoria couldn’t understand why Marguerite should continue to stay at Reichstein. There was so little here to occupy her time, and her bored expression signified her lack of amusement. Unless, as Sophie had suggested, Marguerite did intend becoming the future Baroness von Reichstein. Only in those circumstances could Victoria find any reasonable explanation for her prolonged visit. Her heart twisted. Surely after all he had said, the Baron could not seriously be considering selling the schloss and its estate.

  Now he looked up and his eyes were guarded. ‘Yes,’ he said, briefly. ‘What is it, fräulein?’

  Victoria closed the door. ‘I’d like to speak to you, Herr Baron, in private,’ she added.

  The Baron glanced across at Marguerite Spiegel. ‘Indeed? Surely whatever you have to say can be said in front of fräulein Spiegel?’

  Victoria glanced at the other woman. ‘Actually, I’d rather speak to you alone, Herr Baron,’ she persisted. ‘It—it is rather important.’

  The Baron had risen from his desk at her entrance and now came round to stand regarding her intently. ‘Could it not wait until the morning, fräulein?’ he queried chillingly.

  ‘No, it could not,’ Victoria was very nervous. ‘I’ve tried, without success, to speak to you for two days. I can’t wait any longer.’

  fräulein Spiegel gave her an amused stare. ‘Heavens, child, what is it?’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m vastly curious!’

  ‘Marguerite!’ Now the Baron spoke. ‘Obviously fräulein Monroe has some matter of Sophie’s schooling to discuss with me. Would you mind leaving us for a few minutes? I feel whatever it is, it is being grossly over-exaggerated, but fräulein Monroe will not speak while you are here.’

  Victoria took several deep breaths to calm herself. How dared he speak so sardonically about something that was so important?

  Marguerite Spiegel got reluctantly to her feet. ‘Well, Horst, if you insi
st, of course I’ll go. But why fräulein Monroe must choose to make so dramatic an instance out of it, I cannot imagine.’

  Victoria took all this in silence. If she lost her temper now she would lose everything. At all costs, she must remain calm, for Sophie’s sake.

  After Marguerite had gone, the Baron turned to Victoria, and said: ‘Won’t you sit down, fräulein. You look cold.’

  Victoria registered his formality of speech and shook her head. ‘Thank you, I prefer to stand, Herr Baron.’

  ‘Well now,’ he leaned back against his desk, arms folded, ‘what is this so urgent matter you wish to discuss with me?’

  ‘It’s about Sophie.’

  ‘I rather thought it might be.’

  ‘No, you don’t understand. At least, it’s not about her school work.’

  ‘No?’ He frowned. ‘You mean she has been naughty again?’

  ‘No.’ Victoria sighed. ‘Sophie and I get along very well. I think she’s come to accept me for what I am. No, this concerns something else: Sophie’s—--’ She hesitated, and then, with a rush she said: ‘Sophie’s mother.’

  At once she saw the bleak mask of hauteur descend upon his features. ‘I have repeatedly told you, fräulein, I do not wish you to become involved in my personal affairs—--’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Victoria lost her patience. ‘I am involved, can’t you see that? I don’t care about your personal affairs as such, I just want to help Sophie, and right now I’m not sure whether you are half aware of her problems.’

  The Baron’s fists clenched. ‘Oh yes, fräulein. And you are, I take it.’

  ‘Yes, I am. I know what’s wrong with Sophie. I don’t say I know entirely how to put it right, but I do know what makes her do and say the things she does.’

  ‘In a little under a month you have achieved so much, fräulein?’ His tone was coldly sardonic. ‘How did you come to such a devastating conclusion?’

  Victoria swept back her hair with one hand. ‘Not easily, Herr Baron, and not by making mock of her as you appear to be doing with me.’

  His eyes darkened. ‘Come, fräulein, what have you learned?’

  Victoria coloured. ‘Do you know that Sophie knows about her mother being married when she married you?’ There, it was said.

  His nostrils flared slightly. ‘You have indeed been digging deeply, fräulein.’

  ‘No, I haven’t. I’ve just been listening to Sophie and trying to make sense out of her reasoning.’

  The Baron sighed suddenly, wearily. ‘Of course Sophie must know about her mother,’ he said heavily. ‘She was six or so when it all came out. Old enough to understand and yet too young to assimilate the facts.’

  Victoria chewed her lower lip. ‘There are things she believes that plague her mind. Deep down, she is not even sure she is your daughter.’

  The Baron stared at her intently. ‘Not my daughter?’ he echoed blankly. ‘Oh yes, fräulein, Sophie is my daughter. Only my daughter.’

  Victoria shook her head. ‘Then perhaps you ought to tell her so, Herr Baron.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Victoria spread her hands. ‘This place—the atmosphere—the secrecy, almost. I sensed it when I came, and a child must sense it, living here. What have you to be ashamed of, Horst? What skeleton is hiding in your past that you must continually deny the frankness of honesty?’ His name came naturally to her lips, but neither of them noticed it.

  He reached for a cigar, putting it between his teeth almost automatically. ‘You do not understand, Victoria. I am a proud man, for my sins, I must admit it. I cannot admit what is past.’

  ‘But you must, don’t you see? For Sophie’s sake you must destroy this myth that is torturing her little mind!’

  He raked a hand through his hair. ‘And you, Victoria? Are you curious, too?’

  Victoria’s colour deepened. ‘Of course.’

  ‘I warn you, it is not a pleasant story. My wife—Sophie’s mother, that is, was not a pleasant woman.’ He lit his cigar slowly. ‘She was a young girl at the time of the American occupation of Germany. And like many other German girls, she became infatuated with an American officer. Of course, the inevitable happened and she became pregnant!’ This part of the story was obviously distasteful to him, and he walked to the window, staring out on the darkened, snow-covered slopes. ‘The officer accepted responsibility when it was thrust upon him and they were married. It was a civil ceremony, a hole-and-corner affair, that obviously Elsa did not consider binding. It was, of course, although when she lost the baby a few weeks later, she chose to think otherwise. When the young American returned to his own country, she refused to accompany him, preferring the easy, undemanding existence she was used to. Besides, she was young, and Germany was her home. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to make excuses for her. She was—what you would call—fond of having a good time! She did not want to be married—to have responsibilities.’

  He flicked ash into the fire and moved restlessly about the room. ‘God knows what kind of a life she led during the years that followed. It seems obvious now that she was never the kind of woman to be content with only one man.’ He shook his head. ‘I was a fool! When I met her in Vienna eleven years ago, I looked at the wrapping—not at what was within. She was a beautiful woman, and I was very susceptible. She flattered my ego, and I suppose she found the idea of becoming a Baroness very appealing. Even so, I am convinced that had she known the rigours of our life here at Reichstein, she would have thought twice. In any event, she did not reveal her earlier marriage to me, and we were married at the church in the village. From the very beginning she hated the schloss, the isolation, our spartan way of life, everything! She even hated motherhood when it was thrust upon her.’ He spoke harshly, and Victoria felt an immense sense of compassion for the pain he must have suffered in those days.

  ‘Our marriage was a disaster, I soon realised that. We were not suited to one another. She was very materialistic, always begging me to sell up and move to the city, but when I refused she began leaving us, Sophie and me, and taking trips to visit her friends in Vienna and Stuttgart. I do not know what she got up to there, I did not care, I was sick of the whole business. And then, one day, a man came to Reichstein looking for Elsa. It was the American she had married. He had met someone in the States, someone he loved and wanted to marry, but unlike Elsa he knew he must be free before he married again.’

  He turned back to her. ‘I will not go into the sordid details of the confrontation that took place. Let it suffice that Elsa took the opportunity that was offered and escaped from a life she despised and abhorred.’

  ‘But what about Sophie?’ Victoria could not prevent the words.

  The Baron gave an eloquent gesture. ‘Elsa never cared for Sophie. Motherhood did not appeal to her. She had no instincts of that kind. Sophie was nothing but an encumbrance to be suffered.’

  Victoria sank down into a chair. ‘How terrible!’

  He shrugged. ‘What more is there to say? Elsa left and as far as I am aware she is living in Stuttgart. We never see one another, and she has never expressed any desire to see Sophie.’

  Victoria looked up. ‘You’ve never wanted to marry again?’

  The Baron uttered a harsh laugh. ‘Marry, Victoria! You must be joking! What woman could be asked to share the mess of my life? To take responsibility for my—shall I say—illegitimate offspring!’

  ‘Horst—--’ Victoria uttered a cry.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ he said bitterly. ‘Sophie is mine. I adopted her—legally. I could not take the chance that one day Elsa might change her mind and try to take her from me. Sophie is all I have left.’

  Victoria compressed her lips. ‘Does—does Sophie know you adopted her? That you are legally her father?’

  The Baron frowned. ‘Does she need to know?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ Victoria clasped her hands. ‘Somehow’—she could not mention Elsa in this connection—‘somehow, she believes she is without
parents in the real sense of the word. She loves you, she adores you, but she is afraid Elsa might come back. She—she understands, and yet she doesn’t understand. And your attitude is making it so much worse. To a child a suspicion—an imaginary fear—can cause the most dreadful kind of delinquency.’

  The Baron ran a hand over his forehead. ‘Can this be true? Can Sophie actually believe there is any doubt?’

  ‘Have you ever discussed it with her?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because she’s too young—--’

  ‘But she’s not, can’t you see? Tell her! Make her secure! Give her the solidity of knowing what she has—and explain why it happened as it did. It’s not her fault, and yet she feels responsible, can’t you see that?’

  He gave a heavy sigh. ‘It seems I see very little, Victoria,’ he replied bleakly. ‘If I can live in ignorance all these years and in four short weeks you can accomplish so much!’

  ‘They say the outsider sees most of the game,’ responded Victoria, feeling suddenly bereft. Here she was, making life bearable for Sophie and her father, while her own life was rapidly becoming unbearable.

  With a helpless gesture, she got to her feet. ‘I must go. fräulein Spiegel will be wondering whatever is going on.’

  The Baron put out a hand to prevent her and then dropped it again. ‘I must thank you,’ he said, rather stiffly.

  ‘There’s no need,’ she answered, equally stiffly, and before he could say anything more she left him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE following morning Victoria was eating her breakfast in the kitchen when she heard the sound of a car entering the courtyard. She looked up at Maria and said: ‘Who is that? Dr. Zimmerman?’

  Maria went to the window. ‘No, fräulein, it is a stranger. Perhaps someone for fräulein Spiegel. Let us hope so.’ There was dryness in her tones.

  Victoria cupped her hands round her coffee cup and heard the heavy bang of the knocker on the hall door. Maria muttered something not very complimentary, and then went to open it.