The Poor Governess

by Barbara Cartland

Georgina was interested.

  “Does your father like being a Parson, even though it makes him poor?”

  “It is what he always wanted to be,” Lara explained, “and, when you are doing what you want to do, it is a happiness that outweighs being rich or owning mountains of possessions.”

  “I want to ride.”

  “I know,” Lara said, “and you are very lucky that you have a man to provide you with fine horses. Otherwise you would have to work very hard to buy one for yourself.”

  Georgina laughed as if this was a funny idea.

  Then she said,

  “What could I do to earn money?”

  “Luckily that is something that is not likely to occur in your life. At the same time I am almost sure, Georgina, that if you work at your music, you would be able to earn a living that way.”

  The child looked at her with excitement in her eyes.

  Then she remarked,

  “If I could earn money by playing, that means I will have to be very good.”

  “Very very good,” Lara answered. “And that is what I think you will be if you try hard enough.”

  In the wood the path was not wide enough for them to ride side by side and, as Georgina went ahead to lead the way, Lara was certain that she was thinking seriously about what she was being told and it would make her even keener than she was already to play the piano.

  ‘Perhaps I am wrong in telling her so,’ she thought, ‘but I feel certain that she has an unusual talent that should be cultivated and it will be sad if, when I leave, she is not allowed to continue with her music lessons.’

  She thought that this was another matter she should speak to the Marquis about and that she would be more aware of Georgina’s possibilities by the time he returned from London.

  It was a joy to think that Lord Magor would also be leaving and at least she would not have to worry about him until next Saturday.

  As if thinking of him conjured him up in person, when they reached the house and left their horses with a groom who was waiting outside the front door, Lord Magor appeared at the top of the steps.

  He was dressed smartly in clothes that told Lara he was going to London with the Marquis.

  As she and Georgina walked up the steps towards him, she knew that he was looking at her and there was certainly no criticism in his eyes such as she thought there had been in the Marquis’s.

  Instead she knew that her windswept hair glinting in the sunshine against her white skin, which was thrown into prominence by the darkness of her habit, was making him look at her with admiration, but there was definitely something unpleasant about his attention.

  “Good morning, little lady!” Lord Magor said in his over-mellow voice to Georgina. “And how are you this morning? Have you enjoyed your ride?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Georgina replied.

  “And you, Miss Wade,” Lord Magor went on, “you look like Diana the Huntress and just as beautiful as her picture in the Louvre!”

  Lara had reached the top of the steps by now and, as Lord Magor spoke, she merely inclined her head in acknowledgement.

  Then, as she went to pass him, Georgina having already run ahead, he said in a low voice that only she could hear,

  “And that is a picture I would like to show you one day!”

  For a moment Lara felt that she could not have heard him aright. But, as she would have entered the hall, he put out his hand to prevent her from doing so.

  “You will be here next week?” he asked.

  As he touched her, Lara stiffened and then she replied,

  “I may be, my Lord, but now excuse me, for I must take Georgina upstairs.”

  She moved her arm away from his hand and walked quickly away with her head held high to join Georgina who was already climbing the stairs.

  As she did so, she heard Lord Magor laugh softly and it was the laugh of a man, she thought, who had seen something he wanted and was quite determined to get it.

  *

  It was later in the day, when she had learnt from Nanny that the Marquis and his guests had all gone, that she told herself she must have been mistaken in what Lord Magor had said and that she was merely weaving tales about him because she had cast him as the villain in her book.

  “His Lordship,” she asked Nanny, “will not return until next Friday. Will there be another party?”

  “I expect so,” Nanny replied. “The house is always full of people, but we sees little of them, since no one wants her Ladyship downstairs, as is right and proper.”

  Lara made no comment on this for a moment.

  Then she enquired tentatively,

  “Perhaps some of his Lordship’s friends would like to see Georgina. Is it not a mistake for her always to remain up here?”

  Nanny made a sound that was definitely a snort of indignation.

  “I know what’s right,” she asserted. “The ladies who stay here are busy ingratiating themselves with his Lordship. All they thinks about is their faces!”

  “I have always heard about what are called ‘the Professional Beauties’,” Lara said, “but I have never had the opportunity of seeing any of them.”

  “You’ll see them if you stays here long enough,” Nanny replied, “but it won’t do you no good.”

  There was no doubt of the scorn in her voice and Lara persisted,

  “Tell me who was here at this last party, in case I have ever read about them in the newspapers or magazines.”

  She thought for a moment that Nanny was going to refuse.

  Then she reeled off names that were more or less familiar,

  “The Countess de Grey, the Marchioness of Downshire, Lady Louise Lesley – ”

  At the last name Lara started and knew that this was what she wanted to hear.

  “I have heard of the first two ladies,” she said, “and I know Lady de Grey is a so-called ‘Professional Beauty’. But who is Lady Louise Lesley?”

  “Just another conceited little madam with her eyes on his Lordship!” Nanny replied tartly. “She’s lasted longer than most of them, but she’ll get her wings singed, they all do!”

  Her tone was so scathing that Lara had to laugh and she said,

  “She is obviously in your black books.”

  “That’s a fact,” Nanny replied. “I don’t hold with any of the goings-on in the Social world! That poor beautiful Princess Alexandra has to put up with the Prince of Wales’s carryings on and it’s not surprising the Queen disapproves!”

  Even in Little Fladbury it was known how much the Queen disliked her son’s friends and the Marlborough House set.

  Lara thought with amusement there must be Nannies all over the world saying what was obviously echoed by the more straight-laced members of the population whose opinions were often expressed in the newspapers.

  Because she felt that she must support the Prince of Wales, she commented,

  “I expect because he is still a comparatively young man, he finds the gloom of Windsor Castle very dreary.”

  “Dreary or not, the Queen rules over us and has to be obeyed,” Nanny replied. “It’s a great mistake for anybody to think that they can do otherwise.”

  As if she had nothing further to add to the conversation, she picked up the roll of crochet-lace she was making and which she always carried about with her and left the schoolroom.

  Lara, however, had found out what she wanted to know.

  When later in the evening, when Agnes, the maid who looked after her, was turning down her bed, she said,

  “Do tell me, Agnes, has Lady Louise Lesley very pretty gowns?”

  “Ooh, they’re lovely, miss!” Agnes exclaimed. “I’ve ’elped ’er lady’s maid to iron some of them and you’d never believe how skilful they’re made, all embroidered with pearls and diamonds too.”

  “And is she very beautiful?” Lara enquired.

  “His Lordship thinks so and so do we. She’s been here a lot.”

  “Do you think she will marry the Marquis?”r />
  Agnes looked at her in surprise.

  “She can’t do that, miss. Lord Lesley comes with her sometimes, but he’s often in Scotland for the fishin’.”

  “She is – married!” Lara exclaimed.

  Then she thought how silly she had been to imagine on overhearing the conversation between Lady Louise and Lord Magor that there was any possibility of her marrying the Marquis.

  She had begun to weave her into the story as the girl who longed for him to offer her a wedding ring, but he had eluded her just when she thought that she had captured him.

  Instead it had been a ‘liaison’ such as she had read about in novels and Lady Louise was the villainess, a woman who was unfaithful to her husband!

  She was certainly to be condemned, and rightly so, by Nanny and those who listened to her father’s sermons.

  Somehow, because the Marquis had seemed so cynical and aloof, she had never thought of him as being the passionate ardent lover she intended to describe in her books as the hero.

  She could not forget how sad and pathetic Lady Louise had sounded as she had said,

  “I was sure I could keep him, but he has slipped away and soon I shall just be another of those women who belong to his past.”

  How could she have said that when she already had a husband? And were the other women who had belonged to the Marquis also married?

  Almost as if she could hear Lady Louise speaking beside her, Lara heard her say,

  “I was so certain that he would never tire of me as he has of Alice, Gladys and, of course, Charlotte.”

  Because she was silent, Agnes looked at her a little apprehensively and said,

  “P’raps I shouldn’t ’ave spoken as I did, miss, but you did want to know.”

  “Yes, of course, Agnes,” Lara replied. “I was just thinking about the parties that must take place here and wishing I could see them.”

  “There’ll be one next weekend, miss,” Agnes said, “and I’ll show you ’ow you can have a peep at the ladies goin’ down to dinner. Ever so lovely they looks and when the Prince of Wales comes to stay the gentlemen wear their decorations and they glitters too!”

  There was no doubt that it was very exciting for Agnes and Lara said impulsively,

  “I would love to see them!”

  “You leave it to me, miss,” Agnes said, “but don’t tell Nanny. She don’t approve of the ‘goin’s on downstairs’, as she calls them, but if you asks me, it’s just jealousy!”

  Lara laughed.

  “I am not jealous, only very interested.”

  She thought as she spoke that this was exactly what she wanted for her book. At the same time she realised, because of what she had just learned, that the plot was growing rather complicated.

  ‘One thing is quite certain,’ she thought, ‘Lord Magor is indisputably the villain.’

  Then she had the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps the Marquis was making a bid for that role. After all, there was Alice, Gladys and Charlotte, not to mention Lady Louise, to prove his villainy!

  *

  The next day Lara thought that the whole house seemed freer and happier once the Marquis had departed and there was nobody occupying the important State bedrooms on the first floor, while the drawing rooms downstairs were also empty.

  Georgina took her to see them and she found them all beautiful, attractive and filled with exquisite, fantastic and attractive objets d’art.

  “This is the Queen’s drawing room,” Georgina answered.

  Lara saw the room had pictures and relics that had belonged not only to Queen Elizabeth but other Queens who had stayed over the centuries at The Priory.

  There was also the garden room, the blue drawing room and the silver salon, which had been added later and there was a ballroom that Lara found breathtaking.

  Beside these there were a number of other rooms each more beautiful than the last, and a Chapel.

  The Chapel, which was Elizabethan, had its original carved pews and a magnificent gold reredos, which, the curator had told her, had been found after lying hidden for two hundred years in the cellars beneath the house.

  It was very impressive and to Lara the Chapel had an atmosphere of sanctity and peace.

  When Georgina had moved away to look at something else, she knelt down and said a prayer of gratitude. She also asked for help in developing a talent in Georgina that she knew had been hidden from everyone else.

  ‘Help me, God, to make her happy,’ she prayed.

  Then, almost as if seeing his face in front of her eyes, she found herself praying that the Marquis would be happy too.

  She did not know why she was so conscious of him as a person and it was difficult to think how with such possessions any man could be anything but elated and joyful since life had been so bountiful to him.

  ‘What has upset him?’ she wondered and then told herself that it was none of her business.

  It was only because the Marquis was so different from any man she had ever seen or imagined that she found herself continually thinking about him.

  The days passed quickly and every time she took Georgina to the music room she became more and more convinced that the child had an extraordinary aptitude for music.

  In a few days she was able to pick out by ear anything that Lara played.

  She was sure too that Georgina’s touch on the keys and the way she moved her hands proclaimed, if nothing else, that music was part of her whole make-up and it was only a question of teaching and bringing out the instinct which was already there.

  Then Lara thought a little helplessly that it would be a very difficult thing to explain.

  If, as Georgina thought, her uncle was not interested in her, how could she be sure that when she left the child would have the best teachers and a chance of becoming, if not a musical genius, a very competent performer?

  ‘I will make him understand,’ she determined and found herself trying to play her very best so that she could set Georgina a high standard to follow.

  They rode every morning, which was an inexpressible delight and Lara soon began to know her way through the woods and the fields that lay round the house.

  Then they explored a little further and Lara saw how excellently farmed the land was and how attractive the farm buildings themselves were, which looked as if they had stepped out of a picture book.

  They rode through thick forests of firs, stopped beside streams that ran through lush meadows and then found little hamlets where there was the inevitable ancient inn, a village green and a duck pond.

  She found that there was so much to do, so many people she wanted to see and talk to, that the days flew by.

  When she went to bed at night it was to sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

  It was almost a shock when Agnes piped up,

  “His Lordship’ll be back tonight, miss, and ’ave you heard who’s comin’ tomorrow?”

  “No, I’ve not,” Lara replied.

  “I s’pose Nanny wouldn’t tell you, but it be the Prince of Wales!”

  “He is coming here?” Lara exclaimed.

  “Yes, miss, and, of course, his friend, Lady Brooke, is comin’ too.”

  Lara’s eyes widened.

  She had read about Lady Brooke because she was featured frequently in The Lady’s Journal, which Lara often saw because a woman in the village kindly lent it to her.

  It had described the beauty and wealth of Lady Brooke who had married the eldest son of the Earl of Warwick and there were sketches of her and her elaborate gowns in almost every issue.

  Lara could not believe what Agnes seemed to be insinuating and, as if she saw that she looked bewildered, the housemaid said in a low voice,

  “Everyone knows, miss, that the Prince is madly in love with ’er Ladyship. She travels everywhere with ’im in ’is special train and ’e’s always stayin’ at Easton Lodge.”

  “So he is – in love with her!” Lara commented in a strange voice.

  “Oh,
yes, miss. ’Is Lordship’s valet says the Prince can’t take ’is eyes off ’er and the ’ouse parties ’er Ladyship gives for ’Is Royal Highness ’ave all the Prince’s friends at them, like ’is Lordship.”

  Until now the newspapers had always coupled the Prince’s name with the beautiful Lily Langtry and it struck Lara that the gentlemen of the Marlborough House Set were always changing their affections and she supposed that they and the Marquis were only following the Royal example.

  She thought it indiscreet to say so to Agnes. At the same time, because for the sake of her book, she wanted to know more, she asked,

  “Is Lady Brooke the most beautiful woman who ever comes here?”

  “Well, that be ’ard to say, miss,” Agnes replied. “’Is Lordship’s ladies are all dazzlin’, you might say, but Lady Brooke’s every so sweet and nice. Everyone in the ’ouse admires ’er.”

  She gave a little laugh and added,

  “Just like ’Is Royal Highness!”

  Lara could not help thinking that her mother would disapprove of this conversation, but still she had to know more.

  “Will Lady Louise be coming this weekend?” she asked.

  Agnes shook her head.

  “I’m not sure, miss. But I’ll know as soon as Mr. Simpson gives Mrs. Brigstow, the ’ousekeeper, the bedroom list.

  The next afternoon Lara could not help asking Agnes who was on the list and she reeled off a lot of names, some of which Lara thought that she had heard of, some were unknown to her. But one was not surprising and that was Lord Magor.

  “Does Lord Magor have a special lady friend?” she asked.

  Agnes shrugged her shoulders.

  “If you asks me, miss, ’is Lordship just enjoys bein’ such a close friend of the Master. He seems to just fit into every party, so to speak.”

  This seemed incomprehensible to Lara, for, if Lord Magor had the choice of so many beauties, why should he be interested in poor Jane and maybe herself?

  Then she wondered if perhaps it was because he liked woman who were not as sophisticated as the guests in the house party.

  “Every man has his own interests,” she had heard her father say once.

  ‘Perhaps,’ she ruminated, ‘because he is so overpowering and unpleasant he likes women who are timid and frightened of him, which certainly none of the great beauties like Lady Brooke or Lady Grey are likely to be.’