The Poor Governess

by Barbara Cartland

  “But you came away today?”

  “I was just fortunate,” Jane replied. “Georgina had a terrible toothache yesterday morning. In fact it was so bad that I told his Lordship’s secretary, Mr. Simpson, who runs the house, that she would have to visit the dentist.”

  “So you took her to London?”

  “That is right,” Jane agreed, “and she saw the dentist, who found that she has an abscess in one of her teeth. She was so unwell that he insisted on her staying in bed today.”

  She paused for breath and went on,

  “Her old Nanny came to London with us, which gave me a chance to catch a train which brought me here to you, but I must be careful not to miss the one that goes back at five o’clock.”

  “You will have to walk to the station, unless Papa returns with the trap,” Lara told her.

  “I will leave in plenty of time,” Jane replied.

  “Go on about Lord Magor.”

  “He is always – staying at The Priory because the Marquis likes having him there. He has big parties, so I cannot see why Lord Magor should want to come and talk to me when the ladies who the Marquis invites are – so beautiful and have the most glorious gowns you have ever seen.”

  “I want to know everything about them too,” Lara said. “But go on about Lord Magor. Surely you can tell him to leave you alone.”

  “He will not listen,” Jane said. “He keeps telling me how pretty I am, and he is very – overpowering. Besides, it is – very difficult to be rude to a gentleman who must be at least – forty.”

  ‘He is exactly the sort of man I would expect him to be,’ Lara’s imagination told her.

  She was sure that Lord Magor was rather large and stout with a ruddy complexion, and smoked a huge cigar.

  “I suppose,” she asked, “you could not tell the Marquis about his friend and ask him to order Lord Magor to leave you alone?”

  “Tell the – Marquis?” Jane repeated in horror. “I could not! As it is, I find it – difficult to say even ‘good morning’ or ‘good evening’ to him. He is – terrifying!”

  “Why? In what way?” Lara asked.

  “It’s hard to – explain,” Jane answered. “He is very cynical and autocratic and appears to be contemptuous of everything and – everybody and – especially of me!”

  “Oh, poor Jane!” Lara said sympathetically. “You seem to have got yourself into exactly the wrong sort of place.”

  She was going to add, ‘for somebody like you’ and then thought that it would sound rather rude.

  But she knew better than anybody how helpless Jane was to cope with even the small difficulties of life, let alone gentlemen who pursued her, obviously with evil intentions.

  Lara was very innocent and was not certain exactly what that meant.

  She only knew that the villains in the novels she had read and the stories that filled her mind were always pursuing innocent young maidens, not because they wished to marry them, but to offer them what was described as ‘a fate worse than death’.

  What that was she had no idea, but she knew it was something to do with the Ten Commandments.

  Her father occasionally preached against ‘sinners who deserved the fires of hell’ and the sinners unquestionably were the villains in her stories.

  Now out of the blue Jane was giving her half-a-dozen new plots!

  She felt her fingers itching to set them down in the neat books she had once used for her lessons, but which now contained two chapters of her precious novel.

  “Tell me about the Marquis,” she said and thought that Jane shuddered before she said,

  “He is – terrifying and I never go near him if I can – help it. But Lord Magor is much – much worse. Oh, Lara, what can I do to – make him – leave me alone?”

  Before Lara could answer she blurted out,

  “It’s no use – I simply cannot stay at the Priory and that is why I came to ask your father if he would be kind enough to give me a reference. If I ask Mr. Simpson for mine, he may guess that I am trying to find another – situation.”

  “How will you obtain one without his knowing you are leaving?” Lara asked.

  “I thought,” Jane said hesitatingly, “that I would – write to a – Domestic Bureau where I know the servants come from and then later ask – Lady Ludlow if she will – recommend me,”

  “I am sure she will do that for you.”

  “Yes, but I don’t wish her to tell the Marquis what I am doing until I actually have – somewhere else to – go. You know I have no home and since Papa’s relations live in the North of England – I cannot afford to go and stay with them.”

  “You can always come here,” Lara suggested.

  Jane’s eyes lit up.

  “Do you really mean that?”

  “Of course I mean it. I would love to have you and so would Papa. He will write you a glowing reference or, if you like, I can write you out the same one that Mama gave you and sign it with her name.”

  “Do you – think that would be quite – honest?” Jane asked.

  “Of course it would! It would only be like Mama giving you the same reference twice, if she had thought about it at the time.”

  “Yes – I suppose so,” Jane said doubtfully, “and it is very – very kind of you, Lara, but I still have to go back and – face Lord Magor until I have found – somewhere else.”

  “What is he like?” Lara asked.

  “I suppose he was rather good-looking when he was young. The housekeeper, Mrs. Brigstow, was talking about him one day and said he had a reputation with women! I suppose that is why he cannot – understand why I don’t want him to – kiss me.”

  Lara gave an exclamation and said,

  “You know, this is exactly what I was certain happened to Governesses in the big houses where gentlemen think, because they are neither upstairs nor downstairs but in the middle, they are ‘fair game’.”

  She was puzzling it out for herself when she saw that Jane was looking shocked.

  “That sounds – horrid, Lara!” she cried. “But I suppose it is – true.”

  “I was saying to Nanny just before you came,” Lara went on, “that Mama said once that a Governess’s life was somewhere between Heaven and Hell, in a no-man’s land of their own, and that is where you are, Jane.”

  “I know,” Jane said with a little sigh, “but it – frightens me, and when I – lock myself in my room at night, I am always – afraid that somehow – Lord Magor may – get in.”

  “How could he do that?”

  “He could not – and it is silly of me even to think of it – but I cannot sleep and in the morning I have a – headache, and feel so – ill that I can hardly teach Georgina. I know really I just – want to run away and never – never go back.”

  The way Jane spoke told Lara that she was indeed very upset.

  In fact, she knew now she looked at her that her face was unnaturally pale and she had dark shadows under her eyes.

  Lara remembered that Jane had always been very highly strung.

  If she had ever had a disagreement with her father or anybody else she would cry herself sick and would lie on her bed sobbing and refusing to have anything to eat.

  It flashed through her mind that, if Jane had a nervous breakdown, she would be dismissed and might find it impossible to find another job.

  “What you really need, Jane, is a holiday,” she said. “Have you made any arrangement as to when you should have one?”

  “I forgot to ask about it when I was engaged,” Jane replied. “Anyway, I don’t want a holiday – I have nowhere to go.”

  “I really think you ought to have one,” Lara insisted.

  “How can I?” Jane asked. “And I suppose things will be better when the Marquis goes away and does not have so many parties. I understand from the servants that when the Season starts in London – he only occasionally comes down from Saturday to Monday.”

  “But you think Lord Magor will be staying with him?”


  “He always seems to be there,” Jane answered. “There has only been one party he did not attend ever since I have been at The Priory.”

  “I do see it is a problem,” Lara said, “but you must stand up to him. You must tell him that if he does not leave you alone, you will go to the Marquis.”

  “I would be much too afraid to do that,” Jane answered, “and therefore I would not sound – convincing and he would not – believe me.”

  There were tears in her eyes as she continued,

  “It’s no use, Lara – I cannot stay there any – longer. I must find – somewhere else to go. Do you think I dare write to – Lady Ludlow?”

  “Although she is Papa’s relation I have never met her,” Lara said. “Is she the sort of person who will understand?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Jane replied. “She was kind to me when I was living in her house and teaching her children, but she was not often there.”

  “What do you mean?” Lara asked.

  “She moves in the same Society as the Marquis and therefore is always with the Prince and Princess of Wales and smart people like that.”

  “It sounds fascinating,” Lara said. “Go on!”

  “Of course the only big parties I saw were the ones Lady Ludlow gave herself and that was four or five times a year. There were two Hunt Balls, several shoots and the garden parties she gave in the summer.”

  “I wish I could have seen the parties too!”

  Jane gave a wistful little smile.

  “I am afraid I used to peep through the bannisters with the servants to see the ladies going down to dinner! They were covered in jewels and wearing gowns that were so low in front that – I am sure your Papa would have thought them – very shocking!”

  Lara smiled, but she did not answer.

  Her father had often described to her how beautiful her mother had looked at the balls he had been invited to as a young man.

  “But surely you talked to Lady Ludlow when she was not having parties?” Lara asked.

  “I used to take the children down to the drawing room at five o’clock,” Jane replied. “They hated going downstairs and used to whine and complain all the time I was dressing them in their best clothes.”

  “Then what did you do?” Lara persisted.

  “I would go into the drawing room, stand inside the doorway and wait until Lady Ludlow said,

  “‘Oh, here are the children! Come and kiss me, darlings’. As they went towards her, she would ask, ‘Have they been good today, Miss Cooper?’

  “‘Yes, my Lady,’ I would reply. Then, as she kissed them, I would curtsey and go upstairs again.”

  “Is that all?” Lara asked.

  “Yes, until I fetched them.”

  “What happened then?”

  “When I went into the drawing room, Lady Ludlow would look up and say,

  “‘Here is Miss Cooper. Now run along to bed, my darlings, and don’t forget to say your prayers’. Sometimes she would look at me and say,

  “‘You will be sure they remember their prayers, Miss Cooper?’

  “‘Yes, my Lady,’ I would say. Then, as the children reached me, I would curtsey again and take them upstairs.”

  Lara laughed.

  “You make her sound completely unapproachable. But, Jane, this is exactly what I want to hear and now you must let me tell you my news. I am writing a book!”

  “A book?” Jane questioned.

  “A novel,” Lara explained, “and the heroine is a poor Governess, just like you, who marries the Duke in the end. So perhaps you will marry the Marquis and make my story come true!”

  Jane looked at her in horror.

  “I would certainly not marry his Lordship even if he asked me!” she cried. “He frightens me so much that when he says, ‘good morning, Miss Cooper!’ I find it almost – impossible to – answer him.”

  “Then perhaps you will marry Lord Magor,” Lara said without thinking.

  Jane gave a little cry before she answered,

  “That is unkind, Lara – really unkind. I hate him – I hate him! I know I shall – never be able to – escape from him and in the end he will get – what he wants.”

  “I am sorry,” Lara said quickly. “I did not mean to upset you! But Jane, what does he want?”

  “Something that is wrong and wicked! But I am good, I have always been good and Papa would not expect me to be anything else,” Jane replied passionately.

  “No, of course not,” Lara agreed.

  She saw the tears come into Jane’s eyes and now she put her arms around her to say,

  “I am only teasing you, as I used to do when I was little, and you used to be angry with me. Forgive me, Jane dear, and I will help you somehow, I promise I will!”

  Jane had her handkerchief to her eyes.

  “Nobody can help me,” she said miserably. “There is nothing anybody can do and when I go back to The Priory tomorrow I am sure – Lord Magor will be there – waiting for me.”

  “Then you must not go back.”

  Lara suddenly knew as she spoke that this was the only answer.

  She could feel Jane trembling against her and the hand that was holding the handkerchief to her eyes was shaking.

  “Now listen Jane,” she said, “you have to be sensible about this. You must stay here and write to Lady Ludlow to ask for her help and also to the Domestic Bureau in London.”

  “I-I could not – leave without giving in my – notice,” Jane said in a trembling voice. “If I just – walked out like that – nobody would give me a job.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely sure!” Jane said. “Mr. Simpson who engages the staff at The Priory is always saying that he would never give a reference to anybody who leaves without giving proper notice! When one of the housemaids ran away to get married he said, and I heard him, ‘that puts a finish to any employment as far as she is concerned! It’s a disgraceful way to behave and sets a bad example to everybody else in the house!’”

  “How long does a notice have to be?” Lara asked.

  “At least a month,” Jane answered, “and sometimes longer, if they cannot find – somebody to fill the – place.”

  Her handkerchief went up to her eyes again as she added,

  “How can I bear another – month of – waiting and listening at night for – Lord Magor to come to the schoolroom? I think I shall go – mad!”

  She sounded so distraught that Lara could only hold her a little closer.

  “Listen, Jane,” she said, “I am going to tell Nanny that you are here and ask her to make you a cup of tea. You will feel better after you have had a rest.”

  “I cannot rest, until I can leave The – Priory and never – never see Lord Magor again!”

  Jane drew in her breath.

  Then she suddenly sobbed,

  “Supposing – just – supposing at the next – place I go to the parents are friends of his and he – follows me?”

  “He certainly sounds despicable,” Lara said. “What he needs is a good sharp lesson, which I suppose only another man could give him!”

  She thought for a moment.

  Then once again a plot was weaving itself in her mind and, just as she did when she was alone, she could see things happening as if they were pictures moving in front of her eyes.

  She could imagine Jane trembling in the schoolroom, she could hear the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, she could see Lord Magor entering to menace her, his eyes flashing fire, his hands reaching out towards poor Jane who was shrinking away from him in sheer unbridled terror!

  Then suddenly Lord Magor would be stopped and unable to proceed any further.

  He had met his match! He would be confounded and vanquished as the villain always was in any story where good triumphs over evil.

  She gave a sudden cry.

  “Jane! I know exactly what we must do!”

  “What is that?” Jane asked dully.

  “You must not go
back to the Priory,” Lara said. “You must stay here, rest, have a holiday and Nanny will look after you.”

  “You know I have to go back,” Jane answered. “I have to go back and ‘work out my notice’ as the servants say. If I walk out, I will never be given a good position again, not even with a reference – from your father.”

  “Yes, you will,” Lara said. “I am planning it all out in my mind.”

  She took her arms from around Jane and sat with her fingers holding her small pointed chin as if to help her to think.

  Jane wiped her eyes and looked at her apprehensively.

  “It’s no use, Lara,” she said. “You are very kind, and I know that you are trying to help me, but I am – caught in a – trap and there is – no way out.”

  Her voice broke on the last words and Lara rose to her feet as if it was easier to talk standing up.

  “Now listen, Jane,” she persisted. “I am sure that before you left The Priory to come to London you looked ill and perhaps you even complained to Nanny, or whoever else was with the child, that you were upset.”

  “I don’t remember saying anything,” Jane replied, “but they must have realised that I was not myself because Nanny, who is usually rather disagreeable, said,

  “‘That’s all right, Miss Cooper. You go and see your friends and don’t worry about Georgina. She’ll be happy enough with me’.”

  “Well, there you are!” Lara said with satisfaction.

  “As a matter of fact,” Jane went on, as if Lara had not spoken, “Nanny prefers having Georgina to herself. She is jealous of me and thinks Governesses are unnecessary and, in her words, ‘troublemakers’.”

  Lara laughed.

  “I am sure that is the last thing you are, Jane!”

  “I try not to be and I certainly don’t want any – trouble for – anyone else. I am in enough – myself!”

  “Well, this is what you are going to do to get out of it,” Lara said.

  Jane looked at her, but her blue eyes were dull, her lips quivering and her face very pale.

  It struck Lara that she was in fact frightened to the point where she might easily collapse and be really ill, which in regard to her future, would be disastrous.

  She sat down again beside Jane and suggested,