by Evie Grace
‘It is the most useful weapon to be found in a governess’s armoury,’ Nanny went on.
Agnes couldn’t help smiling.
‘This is very kind of you. What a thoughtful gift.’ She hugged the book to her breast. ‘I shall treasure it – it will always remind me of you and all you’ve done for me.’
‘I have three pieces of advice for you. Do not on any account consider yourself a friend of the family, or even part of it. Make sure you are beyond suspicion in the confidence which is naturally reposed in you. Finally, look out for unwanted attentions by the master and grown-up sons of the family and turn them down in no uncertain terms. That is all. We will meet again one day.’
‘I shall write to you every day,’ Agnes exclaimed.
‘It is too risky to exchange letters. It only takes one person to investigate a name or address and one or both of us will be exposed.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘While I have thought of little else,’ Nanny sighed. ‘Although we won’t be in touch, I will keep you in my prayers. I wish you well.’ She took the book, placed it on the table and clasped Agnes’s hands. ‘Pack what you need and travel before dawn.’
‘But it will be dark,’ Agnes said nervously.
‘It will be convenient – you will be able to slip away unnoticed, travelling by Shanks’s pony. I will cover for you if anyone asks.’
‘What about Miriam? She will see that I’m missing when she comes to lay the fire.’
‘I will say you have gone out early for some fresh air – for your complexion. Oh, I don’t know. I’ll think of something. Now, I must leave you to it.’
‘Won’t you stay? I shan’t sleep a wink.’
‘We can’t do anything to arouse suspicion. I will return to my room as usual. You will retire as you always do.’
‘I haven’t said goodbye to Henry,’ Agnes said, remembering.
‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ Nanny said.
‘But what will he think?’ She pictured his face when he found out she was gone.
‘I will reassure him that his sister still loves him,’ Nanny said tearfully.
‘And always will,’ Agnes said, breaking down completely.
‘It is still not too late to change your mind.’
‘No, I’ve come this far.’
‘Goodnight then, my dearest girl. Good luck. We will meet again, I’m sure.’
‘Goodnight,’ she muttered, hardly able to speak. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.’
‘One more thing,’ Nanny said before she slipped away. ‘All that glisters is not gold. If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.’
Agnes sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking beneath her. What had she done? She felt as if she was about to wade into a river, not knowing if she would sink or swim.
Chapter Twelve
The Faradays
When Pell opened the front door to her, he didn’t seem to recognise her at first.
‘I was to come all the way by carriage, but it lost a wheel and I thought it best that I walk the rest of the way so as not to be late. I know how Lady Faraday dislikes tardiness.’ It had taken Agnes over four and a half hours to cover the distance between Windmarsh and Harbledown, carrying her luggage along the muddy roads and tracks in the rain. She must look a fright, she thought, regretting the appearance of her boots and the hem of her coat.
‘Ah yes, Miss Linnet. Come in. I’ll show you to your room so you can change,’ he said, looking down his nose at her. ‘I will ask one of the maids to bring up a tray with refreshment. You look dead on your feet.’
‘Thank you for your kind consideration.’
He called for one of the footmen to carry her bags, and she followed Pell through to the rear of the house, up several narrow flights of stairs and on to a dark landing.
‘This is your room.’ He opened a door and showed her inside. ‘The young ladies have their bedchambers at the end of this corridor. Dinner is served in the dining room at seven o’clock. You will normally dine with the family, not in the servants’ hall, but this evening, her ladyship thought you would prefer to dine alone in your rooms rather than be forced to mingle with her guests.’
She felt a small stab of disappointment that she wasn’t going to meet her pupils.
‘She suggests that you begin the young ladies’ education first thing tomorrow morning as they are otherwise occupied today.’
‘I wonder if you could let them know that I’ll meet them in the schoolroom at nine o’clock,’ Agnes said, not wanting to delay.
Pell’s lips curved into a wry smile.
‘They haven’t used the schoolroom for a long while. I’ll send word to Mrs Cox to make sure that it is aired. I shall inform them on your behalf.’
‘Thank you, Pell,’ she said.
‘Good luck to you, Miss Linnet.’ He gave her a long stare, then ordered the footman to leave her bags beside the window before the two men left her to make herself at home.
The room was adequately furnished, she thought, trying to be optimistic about the threadbare carpet which showed but a trace of its original colour. There was a scratched mahogany table with a writing slope on top to one side of the fireplace and a wardrobe with a mirror to the other. There was a washstand, chair and bed. She checked the mattress – it was stuffed with horsehair and smelled of the stables. She had a basin and ewer, a soap-dish with a bar of cheap soap, a water bottle and glass. For her comfort, there was also a chamber pot and hip bath behind a screen.
It wasn’t quite the luxury she had expected, and certainly not what she had been used to at Windmarsh Court. The room faced north and the weather was cold for May.
She investigated the fire which hadn’t been lit. There was coal in the grate and more in the scuttle, and she spotted a tinderbox on the mantel. She took the tinderbox down and knelt beside the grate. She took out the flint and steel and struck them over the tinder – some charred rag – in the box, catching her knuckles in error. How many times had she watched Miriam do it? And yet she still couldn’t get it right.
Maybe it was damp, she thought.
She blew on the tinder again and again. It refused to ignite.
Frustrated, she tried once more. The rag glowed, just enough for her to kindle a brimstone match and transfer the flame to one of the candles that had been left out on the table.
‘Well done, Agnes,’ she muttered to herself as she lit the fire with the burning wick. She would be all right here – as long as no one found out her secret.
She unpacked her few personal items, her jewellery which she’d carried in a bag, a brush and comb, and pincushion. She put her folded clothes into the trunk at the end of the bed and hung her coat and cloak from the pegs in the back of the wardrobe.
Someone delivered tea, cold pie and bread on a tray which they left outside her door, and later someone brought her dinner. Twice, she went out on to the corridor, but she didn’t see a soul. She heard voices, laughter, and horses and carriages coming and going outside. She smelled the scent of cooking – hot beef, cabbage and steamed pudding – wafting up the stairs while she sat alone at her table, planning lessons for the following day to keep herself occupied.
This should have been her wedding day. She felt terribly homesick, but she knew that she couldn’t possibly have gone through with a marriage to Philip. She hoped he was well, and happy now that she’d freed him to go ahead with his studies. As for her, she had won her independence, but she had never felt so scared and lonely.
In the morning, after a fitful night’s sleep, she managed to catch the maid as she knocked at the door. She was about the same age as Agnes – eighteen or nineteen years old – and wore uniform, a dark twill dress with a wide white Holland apron over the top and a crochet cap on her head.
‘Please, come in. The tray can go on the table,’ Agnes said.
The maid wished her a good morning, but otherwise appeared tongue-tied as she delivered the
tray and filled the ewer with hot water for washing. Agnes wondered if she was a country girl with her big arms and scarlet cheeks. She had long brown hair tied back with a dark ribbon, and deep blue eyes.
‘Can you tell me where to find the schoolroom?’ Agnes asked.
‘It’s on the next floor, directly above. I’ll clean your room later.’
‘You may stay and do it now, if you wish. I don’t mind.’
‘Oh no, Lady Faraday wouldn’t like that. Good day, Miss Linnet.’
‘Good day, Miss …?’
‘Evie. My name is Evie Potts.’ The maid closed the door behind her, leaving Agnes to her breakfast and toilette. She dressed as modestly as she could before heading up with her lesson plans to find the schoolroom half an hour before her meeting with her pupils.
She pushed the door open and her heart sank. She was prepared, but the schoolroom was nowhere near to being ready to receive the young ladies. It was dark and neglected, the wallpaper unfurling from a patch of mould above the window. She opened the shutters to let in the daylight, and scanned the unfamiliar view across the lawns and parkland. She could just see the smoke coming from the chimney of the gatehouse at the end of the drive through the trees, and the red-brick cottages in the distance.
She looked around for something to sweep the floor with. She found a broom in a cupboard and swept the dust into one corner. No one had thought to clean the ashes from the fireplace and light a fire to take the damp chill from the air.
How could she expect anyone to learn in these conditions?
She made her way downstairs, looking for the servants’ quarters and kitchen, where her appearance was met with a wall of silence that made her feel distinctly unwelcome.
‘I’m Miss Linnet, the new governess,’ she began, her mouth running dry as she addressed the small group of staff. ‘I should like to introduce myself to the housekeeper.’
A woman looked up from the table where she was sitting with a cup of tea.
‘I’m Mrs Cox, the housekeeper,’ she said.
‘I’m delighted to meet you.’ From the expression on the older woman’s face, Agnes didn’t think the feeling was mutual. ‘I should like to borrow one of the maids to clean the fireplace in the schoolroom.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that. It’s most irregular. The maids are taken up with clearing up after last night’s dinner. I’m not sure I can spare even one of them, and besides, I take my orders from her ladyship.’
‘I don’t see why we need to trouble her over such a small matter.’ Agnes frowned, unused to being in the position of an employee not a master. ‘You will do as I say.’
‘I will not. Who are you coming in here and throwing your weight around?’ The housekeeper’s eyes flashed with irritation, but Agnes felt that she was entitled to the help. She would have her way.
‘It is for the young ladies’ benefit, not mine.’ The hairs on the back of her neck bristled with antagonism as she stared at Mrs Cox’s small nose and mean features, which seemed to match the woman’s temperament. ‘I shall go and speak to Lady Faraday.’
‘That isn’t necessary on this occasion.’ Mrs Cox relented. ‘You can ’ave Evie for half an hour and no longer.’
Agnes thanked her and returned to the schoolroom, where she was soon joined by the maid.
‘I’m sorry for taking you away from your other chores,’ she said.
‘I shouldn’t be talking to you. The others won’t like it. They say you ’ave ideas above your station.’
‘Oh dear.’ Agnes felt hurt.
‘I’m sure you’re nothing of the sort,’ Evie backtracked. ‘It’s just the way you’re put above the rest of the servants, being a governess and all that. You don’t ’ave to share a room in the attic, or sleep in the closet next to the scullery. You ’ave your food delivered to your door while we are condemned to eat in the servants’ hall, which is a terrible ordeal, because Pell eats so fast, gulping his dinner down like a dog. As soon as he’s finished, he expects us to put our knives and forks down. One day, we will all starve and it will be down to him.’
‘I feel that I’m very much disliked, yet I have done nothing to deserve it. It is expected that I dine in my room and on occasion with the family.’
‘I hardly know the Faradays,’ Evie said. ‘I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I’ve seen Sir Richard since I started work here. You speak proper, miss. Where do you come from?’
She explained, just as she had to Lady Faraday at her interview.
‘I can’t imagine having no family,’ Evie said. ‘I ’ave a mother and father and five sisters who are all but one in service.’ She knocked the coal from the scuttle that she had carried up the stairs. ‘Oh, I’m such a clodpole. I’ll get it cleaned up.’ She wiped soot across her cheek and then got on with rolling up the hearth rug and laying down canvas in front of the fireplace, while Agnes arranged the furniture: a table, two desks and some bentwood chairs.
Evie raked the ashes, swept them up and brushed the fireplace, using some black-lead for the back and sides, then she scoured the stone hearth with soap, sand and cold water.
Agnes found paper and pens, but there was no ink. The wells were dry.
‘When you have laid the fire, would you be able to find some ink for the young ladies’ lessons?’ she asked.
‘I’ll try the master’s study.’ Evie piled the coals in the grate and lit the fire, blowing on the tinder to coax the flame alight. Once the coals were smoking, she dried the hearth with a cloth and left the room, returning with a bottle of ink – which was lucky, Agnes thought, because there was precious little else to aid her teaching, apart from one novel, a Bible, a poetry book and a muddied tray of watercolour paints.
‘The young ladies haven’t had a governess for the past two or three years. There was some unpleasantness, a scandal. Apparently, the lady in question revealed secrets about the family and allowed Miss Elizabeth to run riot. There, I’ve said too much. Good day, Miss Linnet,’ Evie added with a shy smile.
Agnes thanked her for her trouble, and secretly hoped that she and the maid could be friends in the future.
She checked the clock on the mantel. It was already close to ten o‘clock and there was no sign of the young ladies. Had there been some kind of misunderstanding with Pell? She expected people to do her bidding, and now she had to learn that she should have no expectations. It appeared that lessons at Roper House were not a priority.
She went downstairs and found Pell in the butler’s room that faced out towards the front of the house, which meant he could see visitors on the drive, and therefore answer the door without delay. He was at the table, holding a lighted candle behind the neck of a bottle of red wine which he was pouring slowly into a cut-glass decanter. He stopped and looked up.
‘Your presence has disturbed the sediment, Miss Linnet. I thought you were in the schoolroom.’
‘I’m sorry. I have been waiting for the young ladies to join me.’
‘Oh, I believe they are in the parlour with their mother. You know your way.’ He placed the candle back in the holder on the table and put the bottle down. The silver plate shone from the cabinets behind him.
She nodded. ‘Yes, thank you.’
‘I’m afraid that you’ll find they aren’t much taken with the idea of lessons. They will find any excuse to avoid their studies and you don’t have the authority to bring them into line. I suggested to Lady Faraday that she should employ someone older with more experience. I tell you, Miss Linnet – you won’t last a week. In fact, you might as well pack your bags right now.’
‘Thank you for your honesty, Pell, but I can assure you that I don’t give up that easily.’
‘I don’t suppose you can afford to. I have made many contacts in the area over the years and so far nobody has said they have heard of you. It seems rather peculiar, don’t you think?’
She wouldn’t let him intimidate her, she thought. He couldn’t know anything.
&nb
sp; ‘I have recently worked in London. It is a vast city, far more expansive than Canterbury, in case you were unaware,’ she added. ‘It’s impossible to know everyone.’
‘It’s all rather convenient if you ask me,’ Pell said, his complexion colouring. He didn’t like being made to look a fool, she realised. She would have to tread carefully.
‘If you say so,’ she retorted.
‘You are not that much of a mouse, then. Maybe the young ladies won’t have you for breakfast after all. We will see.’
She wished him good day and returned to the main part of the house, retracing her steps to the parlour by following the sound of voices and laughter. The door was ajar. She knocked and gently pushed it open. Lady Faraday was standing by the fire, wearing a dark green gown. Her younger daughter was at her side, engaged in animated conversation. She had a girlish figure and blonde curls piled up on her head. Agnes coveted her dress, which was made from red and blue silk with pagoda sleeves and the fullest skirt she had ever seen.
The elder one, dressed in brown, sat in the chair opposite with her legs folded up beneath her and a small black and tan King Charles spaniel in her lap. Her hair was long, blonde and straight, and appeared to reach down to at least her waist. She looked towards Agnes, then back to her mother.
‘Mama, there is someone here to see you.’
Lady Faraday frowned before some sign of recognition crossed her face.
‘Oh, Miss Linnet, I’d quite forgotten—’ She recovered herself quickly. ‘Let me introduce you to my daughters, Miss Faraday – Charlotte, look up when I’m speaking to you.’
Agnes frowned, then realised Lady Faraday was addressing her elder daughter.
‘And this is my younger daughter, Miss Elizabeth Faraday.’
The younger girl, who must have been about fifteen years old to her sister’s seventeen, smiled at her new governess, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.
‘It’s delightful to make your acquaintance,’ Agnes said. ‘I thought, though, that I had arranged to meet you both in the schoolroom at nine. We have plenty to do.’
‘I’m sorry for your inconvenience, Miss Linnet,’ Lady Faraday said without a hint of regret in her voice. ‘My daughters must have their beauty sleep, so ten o’clock would be far more suitable in future.’
