The Reluctant Governess

by Anne Mather

  Victoria finished her coffee and was clearing the table when Maria came back. ‘Ach, fräulein,’ she exclaimed, ‘I could have done that. The gentleman is in the hall. He says he is a friend of yours.’

  Victoria’s mouth went dry. ‘A friend of mine?’ she echoed weakly. ‘Did—did he give his name?’

  ‘Er—Hammond, I think, fräulein,’ murmured Maria thoughtfully. ‘Would that be right?’

  Meredith! Victoria’s heart sank. So he had found her after all. And at a time when she was least equipped to cope with him. She stood, as though carved of stone, and Maria looked at her with some concern.

  ‘Is something wrong, fräulein?’

  Victoria heaved a sigh. ‘Everything,’ she said dully.

  ‘Why?’ Maria frowned. ‘You are afraid of this man?’

  ‘Not afraid, no. I just—wish he hadn’t come.’

  Maria hesitated. ‘I could tell him you were indisposed. That you could not see him.’

  Victoria shook her head. ‘He would only come back again until I did see him, thank you, Maria. No, I must go.’ She bit her lip. ‘Where is the Baron?’

  ‘Out, I think, fräulein. He took Sophie with him, about an hour ago.’

  Victoria nodded. Of course. He would need to take the child away from the house and the influence of fräulein Spiegel to be alone with her. She hoped desperately that Sophie responded in the way she believed.

  With heavy steps, Victoria made her way to the hall. But as she opened the hall door she heard voices, and when she went in she saw that Meredith was not alone, Marguerite Spiegel was with him. They were talking together like old friends, but Meredith broke off when he saw Victoria and came striding across the room to her side, grasping her shoulders tightly.

  ‘My God,’ he muttered fiercely, ‘I could kill you for walking out on me like that! Have you any idea of the trouble I’ve had trying to find you? Stumped at every turn by that old harridan, your godmother!’

  Victoria wrenched herself out of his grasp. ‘My godmother is not an old harridan,’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘And I honestly don’t know why you’ve come looking for me. We’re through, finished! I thought I made that very plain.’

  ‘No one finishes with Meredith G. Hammond,’ he snapped impatiently. Then more calmly: ‘Victoria, love, you don’t mean this. Okay, so I was a heel keeping my marriage a secret like that, but good God! I’m not a saint, and I did—no, do—love you.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, Meredith, I don’t love you. I thought I did for a while, but I was mistaken.’

  Meredith gave an angry snort. Then he turned to Marguerite Spiegel. ‘Hey, Marguerite, you hear that? She doesn’t love me any more. Me, who’ve spent pounds and pounds on finding her, and now she doesn’t want me.’ His southern American accent was suddenly very pronounced.

  Marguerite Spiegel’s eyes narrowed. ‘Maybe the handsome Baron is to blame, Merry,’ she remarked, leaving Victoria in no doubt that she had known him before this meeting.

  ‘Handsome Baron, what the hell!’ Meredith turned back to Victoria. ‘Say, what is this?’

  Victoria’s colour deepened. ‘Miss Spiegel makes a joke, Meredith,’ she said carefully. ‘Do—er—do you two know one another?’

  ‘Why, sure!’ Meredith nodded. ‘Marguerite worked in the States for a time on a magazine there, didn’t you, honey? We were—friends.’

  ‘How nice.’ Victoria was bored.

  ‘Hey, do you hear that, Marguerite, she’s jealous!’ exclaimed Meredith annoyingly, and Victoria gave an angry exclamation.

  ‘Meredith,’ she said, in a taut voice, ‘I wish you would leave, right now. You’re not supposed to be here, you’re not the Baron’s guest, and you’re certainly not mine.’

  ‘Marguerite can vouch for me to the jolly old Baron,’ retorted Meredith, his indifference to Victoria’s adamancy making her blood boil. ‘Besides, I know you’re only playing hard to get, honey. So let’s get down to business. How much longer do you plan to spend in this Gothic hideaway?’

  ‘Till my work is finished,’ replied Victoria sharply, ‘and when I do leave I shall be taking another position, elsewhere!’

  ‘Yeah, sure, as my wife, as the second Mrs. Meredith G. Hammond.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Victoria was curious.

  ‘Why, honey, you don’t think I’d let a little thing like a marriage stand between us, do you? I’ve set the machinery in motion and in a few weeks I’ll be a free man again. What do you say to that?’

  ‘I say it’s your business, Meredith,’ replied Victoria. ‘What you do with your wives is no business of mine, and whatever you say, I shan’t be one of them.’

  ‘Hell, honey, aren’t you carrying this moral thing a bit too far?’ he exclaimed. ‘Okay, so I deceived you. Well, I’m not deceiving you now, I’ve got the papers right here.’ He put his hand into his inside pocket.

  ‘I don’t want to see them, Meredith.’ Victoria heaved a sigh. ‘I wish you would try and understand, we’re through.’

  Meredith stared at her for a long moment. ‘Why? Tell me that. Why? I’ve done what you wanted, haven’t I?’

  ‘Meredith, I’m sorry, but I just don’t love you.’

  ‘How can you say that with any degree of certainty? You don’t love anybody else, do you?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Victoria was quick to deny it, but she was aware of the speculative gaze of Marguerite Spiegel.

  Meredith raked a hand through his gingery hair. He was a very pale-skinned young man, and now he was flushed and angry.

  ‘Well, I don’t know, Victoria,’ he said impatiently. ‘After all the trouble I’ve taken—--’

  Victoria frowned. ‘Just out of interest, how did you find me?’

  Meredith shrugged. ‘Some old girl, some Baroness Theresa something or other, she was talking to your godmother at a luncheon we both attended. And then afterwards I happened to overhear her discussing how Lady Pentower’s goddaughter had agreed to act as governess to her cousin’s child. After that, it was easy conning the old girl into spilling the rest.’

  Victoria nodded. ‘I see. It never occurred to you that had I wanted you to know where I was or wanted you to come here, I’d have written to you!’

  Meredith had the grace to turn rather red. ‘Gee, Victoria, you can’t do this to me!’

  Victoria bit her lip. ‘But I have.’ She glanced at Marguerite. ‘I don’t know if fräulein Spiegel wishes you to stay, but I am afraid I have work to do. If you’ll excuse me—--’

  ‘Now wait a minute, Vic—--’ Meredith caught her arm, and at that moment the Baron himself came through the heavy door from the courtyard accompanied by his daughter.

  His eyes took in the group silently, and Victoria wrenched her arm out of Meredith’s grasp feeling terribly embarrassed. ‘What is going on here?’ The Baron was aloof. ‘fräulein Monroe? Who is this young man?’

  Meredith required no one to perform his introductions. ‘I’m Meredith G. Hammond, sir,’ he said politely. ‘Miss Monroe’s—friend.’ The hesitation before the word friend was not lost on the Baron and Victoria flushed with dismay.

  Sophie was regarding Victoria rather doubtfully and now she came across to stand beside her and said: ‘Is this your boy-friend, fräulein?’ in rather anxious tones.

  Victoria sighed and shook her head. ‘Mr. Hammond is an associate, no more,’ she replied. Then she looked down at Sophie gently. ‘Have you had a good walk?’

  Sophie looked up at her and seemed to understand, for she nodded enthusiastically, and said: ‘Oh yes. Papa says we may walk again another day. Are you ready to begin lessons?’

  Victoria hid her astonishment. ‘Why—er—of course,’ she said. Her eyes went to the Baron’s, but his were enigmatic and she realised that any understanding they might have shared over Sophie had been banished by Meredith’s unexpected arrival. What could he be thinking? What thoughts were causing that cold expression? And anyway, what did it matter? Victoria asked herself despairingly. The
Baron was the Baron, and she must not forget that.

  Meredith stared at her challengingly. ‘You can’t mean to work today, Victoria!’ he exclaimed. ‘I want to talk to you. I thought we might take a drive—--’

  ‘Must I remind you I have a job to do?’ asked Victoria impatiently.

  Meredith smote his fist into the palm of his hand. ‘I don’t give a damn about your job!’ he snapped.

  ‘But I do.’ Victoria wished this interview was over. The Baron was growing angrier by the minute and she could guess how he would interpret Meredith’s possessive attitude.

  However, the Baron had apparently heard enough. ‘Mr. Hammond,’ he said, ‘your presence here seems rather unnecessary at the moment. I am not at all sure who invited you to Reichstein, but I am the master here and I should be grateful if you would leave my employee to get on with her work.’

  Meredith was taken aback. Never before had anyone dared to challenge Meredith G. Hammond. He was far too used to controlling destinies himself, and he was in no mood to be polite now.

  ‘To hell,’ he swore moodily. ‘I came here to see Victoria, to ask her to marry me as soon as my divorce is made final, and I don’t intend to be turned aside by some tin-pot aristocrat without a red cent in his safe!’

  Victoria bit her lip. ‘Oh, please,’ she began, only to be interrupted by the Baron.

  ‘Thank you, fräulein,’ he said icily, ‘but I am perfectly capable of dealing with this myself.’

  He walked slowly across to Meredith. For all Meredith was tall he had not the Baron’s powerful build, nor had he the kind of quelling arrogance that came of years and years of inherited authority. ‘Hammond,’ he said distinctly, ‘I am not a patient man when I have been insulted. I am tempted to teach you a salutory lesson in good manners, but breeding counts for more than crude materialism, and therefore I shall ask you politely to leave here. You are trespassing, and I do not wish to have to turn the dogs on you.’ He indicated the wolfhounds who had been silently watching this display and who rose on cue and growled convincingly. Victoria wondered, with tremulous hysteria, whether they really would attack. Somehow she doubted it.

  Meredith looked at the animals with distaste. Obviously, he could not judge whether or not they were violent, and he looked instead at Marguerite Spiegel. But Marguerite turned away and went to the fire, warming her hands, showing him that she had no intention of revealing her involvement to the Baron at this time.

  Victoria heaved a sigh. ‘Please, Meredith,’ she said, awkwardly. ‘Try and be reasonable! We can’t talk here, you know that.’

  ‘I’m staying at the hotel in Reichstein. We could talk there.’ Meredith regarded her accusingly. ‘You brought me here.’

  Victoria stepped back. ‘I did no such thing.’

  ‘Of course you did. You expected me to follow you. To find you. I just wish I knew what crazy game it is you’re playing. I’ve offered you marriage. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?’

  Victoria felt near to tears of futile impatience. ‘No, Meredith,’ she said steadily, ‘I’ve told you. That’s over.’

  Meredith stamped his feet. ‘Just like that! You drag me out here in the wilds in the middle of winter just to tell me that!’

  ‘Meredith, you brought yourself here,’ she reminded him. The Baron stepped forward. ‘Enough,’ he said. ‘Herr Hammond, are you going to leave peaceably, or do I resort to other means?’

  Meredith scowled. ‘Victoria!’ he exclaimed, pleadingly now. ‘Come on, have dinner with me! It’s the least you can do.’

  Victoria hesitated. If it would precipitate Meredith’s departure she would promise anything. ‘All right, all right,’ she said, ‘tomorrow night, perhaps.’

  ‘Tonight.’

  ‘Impossible.’ Victoria spread her hands.

  ‘Okay, okay, tomorrow it is.’ Meredith made an eloquent gesture. ‘Be seeing you, then. ’Bye, Margie!’ This to Marguerite.

  Marguerite gave him a venomous glance before transferring her gaze to the Baron. ‘Goodbye,’ she said coldly, and turned back to the fire.

  After he had gone an ominous silence seemed to have fallen. Victoria didn’t dare look at the Baron and she was sure Marguerite felt the same. She wondered how the older woman would explain that parting informality from the American.

  With a sigh, she took Sophie’s hand. ‘Come,’ she said. ‘We have work to do.’

  Sophie went with her automatically, and they left the hall to go to the study. Once there, Victoria sank down weakly into a chair and Sophie watched her with anxious eyes.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked. ‘Is it that man? Are you afraid of him?’

  Victoria half smiled and shook her head. ‘Of course not, Sophie. Don’t jump to conclusions.’ Although, after Maria’s almost identical comment, she didn’t have to wonder where Sophie got her peculiar ideas from. ‘It’s just that—well, your father is bound to think the worst, and quite frankly I’m getting a little tired of arguments.’

  Sophie stared at her. ‘You are? Oh, but—you wouldn’t get too tired, would you? I mean—not tired enough to leave!’

  Victoria frowned. ‘Why the concern? I thought you’d be glad to see me go.’

  ‘Oh no, not you!’ exclaimed Sophie quickly. ‘Not you.’ She bent her head. ‘I want you to stay. You’re nice. Really nice. And if you’d like to make me some clothes, I shouldn’t mind at all.’

  Victoria smiled at the back-handed compliment. ‘Well, I’m very pleased to hear that,’ she said. It’s always nice to feel you’re wanted.’

  Sophie smiled rather tremulously. ‘Papa has been talking to me. He—he told me about my mother—everything. I felt sorry for him.’

  ‘Did you, Sophie?’

  ‘Yes. It was much harder for him, you know. I mean—I was too young to really understand, but he had to bear it all.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘He’s a wonderful man, my father.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘You think so, too, don’t you?’

  Victoria coloured. ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘You don’t have to be afraid to say so. I don’t mind. Not now. He’s my father, you see, and I’m his daughter, and I can afford to be generous!’ She laughed a little. ‘It’s funny, I always thought he just tolerated me, too. I didn’t realise he loved me. He does, you know. He said so.’

  Victoria cupped her chin on one hand. ‘I’m very happy for you.’

  Sophie sighed. ‘I just wish you were happier, that’s all. It’s that man, isn’t it? That Herr Hammond! He’s to blame.’

  ‘Not entirely.’ Victoria had to be honest.

  ‘You’re not worried about Papa, are you? I’ll speak to him for you.’

  ‘Thank you, Sophie, but that won’t be necessary.’

  Sophie regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Is it fräulein Spiegel, then? If it is, I know how you feel. I don’t like her. I wish she would go away!’

  Victoria shook her head. ‘fräulein Spiegel is your father’s guest, Sophie. Can’t you accept her as such?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Sophie looked sulky for a moment. ‘It’s just that she always tries to get Papa to herself. She never wants me around. I’m just a nuisance, like I was with—with my mother.’

  ‘Now don’t be silly, Sophie. For heaven’s sake, she can’t stay for ever.’

  ‘No, she can’t, can she?’ Sophie brightened up. ‘Then there’ll be just the three of us again. Oh, and Maria and Gustav, of course.’

  ‘I’ll have to go eventually,’ said Victoria.

  Sophie frowned. ‘Why? I needn’t go to boarding school. You could go on teaching me until I was old enough not to need lessons.’

  ‘That wouldn’t do, Sophie. I’m not qualified to teach an older child.’

  ‘But you’re my friend. I want you to stay.’ Sophie stared at her. Then she hunched her shoulders. ‘I suppose I might even let you marry Papa if you’d agree to stay.’

  Victoria hid her smile even
while her heart was torn apart. ‘That’s very kind of you, Sophie,’ she said gravely, ‘but I don’t think that’s very likely. Your father has plans of his own, no doubt.’

  Sophie grimaced. ‘So long as he doesn’t intend to marry fräulein Spiegel.’

  ‘Sophie!’ Victoria’s tones were sharp. ‘Now come along. I have something to show you. It’s a present I bought for you in Reichstein several weeks ago.’

  When Victoria came down for dinner that evening, she found Maria in the kitchen intent on preparing a tray for the Baron. The old woman gave her a faint smile and continued with her task, and Victoria seated herself beside the roaring fire. It had been a strange day, somehow, interrupted as it had been by Meredith’s intrusion. His arrival had disorientated her and she wished he had not made himself so unpleasant. Obviously he couldn’t understand her reasons for remaining at Reichstein, but he might at least have had the decency to accept her dismissal for what it was. His pride was hurt, that was all, and he was afraid of what the columnists might say if this should leak out. She couldn’t imagine now what it was that had attracted her to him in the first place. He was handsome, of course, and he did tend to dominate anyone who failed to offer much resistance. It could only be that she had been ripe for romance and flattered by his obvious attentions. She sighed. He was vastly different from the Baron Horst von Reichstein, and yet they both enjoyed a certain amount of omnipotence in their own way. Perhaps, if she was sensible, she would take this opportunity that was offered to her and return to London with him. By staying here she was only building up heartache for herself and allowing a man who found her physically attractive and nothing more to take the place of her normal longings for the security of marriage and children of her own. There was Sophie, of course, but now that she knew the truth about her parentage, she would begin to cope with the deficiencies of other things.

  But in spite of all these things, she knew she would stay. Half a loaf was better than nothing and at least here she could see him and talk with him and sometimes share a relationship with him.

  Maria finished preparing the tray and began to ladle soup into bowls. ‘Do you know where fräulein Spiegel is, fräulein?’ she asked, startling Victoria out of her reverie.