by Regina Darcy
“You are hoping for a better ending with him, I know,” Lydia said.
“And well you should,” Tillie added, “given how focused his attentions have been on you of late.”
“You are both already blessed with attentive husbands,” Henrietta said, “and I am glad to know that I am of interest to such an eligible bachelor. I can only imagine how wonderful it would feel to be named Duchess. I hope to secure a firmer promise from him before we leave on Saturday.”
The women moved away and Charlotte remained where she was, wondering at the gossip she had heard, appalled that the man who employed her might in fact be as cruel as they said. He had not appeared to be so during their brief meeting, but then, what did she know of men and their ways?
She tried to ignore the rush of heat to her cheeks at the thought of his handsome face and broad shoulders, recalling instead the way he had insulted her by assuming she would harm his precious charges. It would serve her best if she thought of him only in terms of an exacting employer, rather than as a man whose beauty dazzled her. She was merely a governess, and had no social standing in his household, nor any hope of attracting his attentions in an honourable way. She had not come looking for more than the job she had been given, and she would do well to remember her place.
Another week passed in relative peace, with Eliza only throwing a tantrum once, when Charlotte insisted that she practice on the pianoforte longer than the usual time, as she was having difficulty with one of the exercises. The little girl pouted and fussed, and only when Charlotte threatened to have her put to bed earlier than her little sister did she relent and do as Charlotte bid. When she had done as instructed, and Charlotte had declared herself pleased with her work, Eliza asked, “Why are you so unkind to us?”
Charlotte looked up from the table she was tidying.
“In what way am I unkind?” she asked.
“You don’t let us do what we like,” the little girl replied, “You make us wake up early, and you give us so much to do.”
Charlotte smiled at her. “Do you not enjoy learning about the flowers in the garden?”
Eliza considered. “I suppose so,” she muttered grudgingly.
“And do you not like the horse rides to the brook? Or the views of the sun rising? Do you not enjoy the pretty colours? And do you not like to paint them?”
Eliza hung her head, keeping a stubborn silence.
“Why do you think you should enjoy these things without having to give something in return? Do you not wish to become an accomplished young lady?”
The child looked up. “What does that mean?” she inquired suspiciously.
“Well, it means you will be able to have conversations with your uncle about important matters. You will be able to entertain his guests with your beautiful playing. You will be able to keep your seat on the horse when you go riding with him and his guests. All of these things are considered important for a young woman to have if she is to marry well.”
“Why are you not married, then? Are you not an accomplished woman?”
It was a logical question, and though it cut Charlotte to the quick, it also reinforce her status in the household. She tamped down her pain and calmly replied, “You and I are not of the same station in life. No doubt, you will have many eligible young men asking to address you. I do not have any such prospects, because I am a humble vicar’s daughter.”
“Does that make you sad?” the child wanted to know, searching her face with curious eyes.
“I live each day as it comes to me, and try to be happy with what I have,” Charlotte answered, knowing she could not respond in any other way. “Now, go and get ready for tea. Your uncle is expecting you.”
She ushered the little girl out of the room and finished tidying up, refusing to let the painful conversation make her gloomy.
Mrs Thomson had invited her to take tea that afternoon and she was grateful for the respite, and truth be told, she was also grateful for the company. The life of a governess was a lonely one, to be sure, with only the children for company. Even the nursemaid had a place amongst the servants that the governess did not share. Charlotte was grateful to the housekeeper for taking pity on her, especially during these first trying days, when Eliza was making life so much harder, both for herself and her tutor. The conversation she had just had, however, seemed to indicate that the days of tantrums might be over. But given the way it had ended, Charlotte needed a reprieve from her unhappy thoughts.
As she sat down to tea with the housekeeper, Charlotte again expressed her appreciation.
“I am truly grateful to you, Mrs Thomson, for sharing your tea and your time with me,” she said with a smile.
“Oh, think nothing of it, my dear. I’m sure your mother will be happy to know you’ve someone looking out for you here.”
Mrs Thomson bustled about getting the tray ready, and when she at last sat down, she presided over the table like a grand lady.
“So, how are you finding the children?” she asked, pouring tea into a delicate teacup and handing it to Charlotte.
“Mary Anne is quite a pleasant child, whilst Eliza has been most difficult,” Charlotte replied. “But I think we have turned a corner, her and I. I don’t think she will be quite such a misery moving forward.” She sipped her tea and sighed appreciatively. “This is delicious, Mrs Thomson,” she exclaimed.
“Do, help yourself to a sandwich and scones,” Mrs Thomson said, sipping her own tea. “Mr Milton would have joined us today, but he has a meeting with the male staff. We’re to have a house party in a week, when the Duke’s Great Aunt visits.”
“I’m sure the entire household will be very busy,” Charlotte said. “I shall do my best to keep the children away as much as possible.” She paused, a cucumber sandwich halfway to her lips. “Perhaps I should ask the Duke what his wish is in the matter.”
The housekeeper turned a sharp gaze on her young guest, and after a moment, seemingly satisfied by what she saw on the young woman’s face, she said, “Perhaps that would be best. He might wish to introduce his nieces to his Great Aunt, though I cannot imagine Her Ladyship caring too much for fidgeting children.”
They spoke of generalities thereafter, and Mrs Thomson informed her that there was to be a fair in the village the following Saturday, should she wish to go with the staff for the day. Charlotte was thrilled both by the invitation and the prospect of getting away from the schoolroom for a day. She accepted enthusiastically, and then thought of what she had to wear. She broached the subject with her hostess.
“I only have three serviceable gowns, and I cannot afford to ruin any one of them in a day of fun,” she said, her brow furrowed.
“Have you not yet ordered any material to make yourself a new gown?” Mrs Thomson queried with a frown.
“I cannot afford it,” she admitted. “It is too soon, and I have not as yet received a wage for my labour.”
She didn’t wish to appear to be complaining, but the thought of how she was to keep herself looking presentable without the means to purchase fabric for that purpose had crossed her mind before. She just had not known how to broach the subject with the Duke, who had not returned to the schoolroom since his first visit.
“You should speak to His Grace, especially as he expects you to be present at dinner when his Great Aunt is here. I’m sure he will provide the necessary funds for you to be prepared. Perhaps you should bring this matter to his attention immediately after tea?”
Charlotte hesitated. “I don’t wish to intrude on His Grace’s time, Mrs Thomson, and he has not summoned me.”
“Don’t be silly, girl! If you can handle Eliza, you can find the courage to approach His Grace.”
When Charlotte looked at her, scandalised by the comparison she made, Mrs Thomson added, “I have known the Duke both as a boy and a man. He is a much nicer gentleman than some may suppose.”
Still, Charlotte did not visit the Duke after tea. Instead, she went to her room and looked over her wardro
be. She concluded that in a pinch she could wear the grey to town for the fair. It was the oldest of her gowns, and should she be able to purchase cloth for a new one, it would replace the grey. Satisfied with her decision, she settled into the armchair she had placed by the window and let her gaze wander over the view. Recalling the conversation she had heard among the three women in the garden, she wondered who was more fair in their judgment of the Duke. Was he really the rakish gentleman that they made him out to be, or was he a kinder man? And in the end, did it matter? She had no hope of any association with him, whatever his reputation might be, however well- or ill-earned it was.
A knock interrupted her thoughts and she went to see who it was. A housemaid had brought her a letter.
“Thank you, Alice,” she said, smiling at the girl, who nodded and withdrew.
The missive was from her sister Amelia. She opened it with trembling fingers.
My dearest sister,
We were all pleased to receive your letter, and are heartened that you are in good spirits and good health. Mama and Papa were gloomy until your letter came, and now they are most lively and cheerful. I have also been immensely cheered by your words.
We are all certain that, despite the challenges that Eliza presents, you will find a way to overcome them. You always were the resourceful one, Charlie.
Aunt Anne and I will be traveling to Elgin Bottom for a few days to pay you a visit. We will arrive in a week’s time, and hope that you will be able to visit with us then. Mama is sending me with a bolt of cloth for you to make a new gown. She had been saving it for you, and imagines that you will need it eventually. Papa will send you another of the books you love to read from his shelf. And I have finished the embroidery that you started, I shall bring it for you to see, as well as some new yarn for you to work on.
We will be residing at the Bird and Bottle Inn in Elgin Bottom, and hope you will be able to visit with us when we arrive. I am most excited to see you again, sister dear, and look forward to all your news.
Yours sincerely,
Amelia
Charlotte could not keep the happy smile off her face. She could put off meeting with the Duke about her wages a little longer, and she would have the pleasure of enjoying the fair not just with her newfound friend Mrs Thomson, but also with her family.
The next day being Saturday, she was pleased to share her good news with the housekeeper as they again sat down to tea. Mrs Thomson declared herself excited at the prospect of meeting a younger version of her guest, which made Charlotte smile shyly.
“No doubt you will find Amelia a far more interesting person than I am, Mrs Thomson,” she said. “And prettier, to be sure.”
The housekeeper chuckled merrily. It was a pleasing sound coming from the usually grave lady, who rarely smiled, even when she was feeling most at ease. The act transformed her face into the most pleasant lines.
“If she is prettier than you are, my dear, it is a good thing she does not work in Marbleton House! The poor young lads here would be quite unable to complete their tasks. Mr Milton would have to knock heads a little more often..”
Charlotte blushed, understanding the implication behind the words and appreciated the compliment, even if it had come in through the back door, so to speak. She wondered if Mrs Thomson had a husband, though she couldn’t imagine it to be possible, given her constant residence at Marbleton House. A quiet knock interrupted her thoughts, and at the housekeeper’s equally soft “Enter!” Mr Milton stepped into the room. It was clear from his expression that he was somewhat agitated.
“Please do pardon my intrusion, ladies,” he began. “I have just heard some rather disturbing news.”
Mrs Thomson, intuitive woman that she was, offered him a chair, and fetched a third cup so she could press some tea into his hands. Having thus fortified him, she proceeded to interrogate him.
“Now, what has got you in a dither, Mr Milton?” she inquired, sipping her own tea.
“It seems, Mrs Thomson, that our Duke has managed to enrage the families of one of the women he rejected. They are threatening legal action against him for breach of contract!”
“Oh my, that sounds dreadful!” Charlotte exclaimed.
“Well, he did leave the poor young woman at the altar,” Mrs Thomson said. “I’m sure her parents are only doing what they think is best.”
“It certainly can’t have been a pleasant experience for her to have been jilted,” Charlotte said, thinking of how his former fiancée must have been humiliated.
“As I understand it, the Duke had no particular affection for the lady in question,” Mr Milton said. “And though it is not the fashion among the aristocracy to marry for love, His Grace is not one to follow the fashions, except in his style of dress.”
“He certainly is independent,” Mrs Thomson agreed. “And that got him into a lot of trouble, too, when he was a boy.”
They chuckled, and Charlotte could see that they held their master in great affection. There must be something more to the man than the terrible things she had been hearing. The fact that he took in his orphaned nieces was certainly something in his favour, and he had not interfered in any way in their education since her arrival. She had seen him walking in the gardens with his houseguests in that first week and she had admired the manliness of his form, wondering what it would be like to be the woman on the receiving end of his attentions.
“I overheard a conversation about the Duke very recently,” she said, “and it seems that there is at least one other woman who would love to receive his attentions, despite his reputation.”
Both the butler and the housekeeper looked at her, before Mr Milton said, “I have no doubt you mean Lady Henrietta Aston.”
“She has set her cap at him, to be sure,” Mrs Thomson said. “But he has not shown his intentions toward her so far.”
“It is rumoured that the engagement to the young woman whose family is threatening legal action was an arrangement that was forced upon them both,” Mr Milton added.
Charlotte couldn’t imagine being forced to marry someone she didn’t love, and she was suddenly very glad that she was just a poor vicar’s daughter. Her dear papa would never try to make her marry for anything other than love. He and her mother were proof that love made even the humblest house a home.
The following day, she took herself off for a walk in the garden. It had been a rainy morning, so she kept to the stone pathways to avoid soiling the hem of her gown. The rain-washed air was fresh, and a delight to her senses. That morning she had once again spied the Duke as he took a turn about the grounds, accompanied by a woman she did not recognize. She wondered if that was the ambitious Lady Henrietta. She had watched them, the Duke gallantly giving the lady his arm, as they strolled through the garden talking and laughing. Charlotte felt a pang of envy for a life she knew she would never have. He was indeed a well-made man, beautifully turned out, handsome of face and form, and entirely out of her league. Why then did a small part of her heart ache because he had not noticed her?
As she wandered around, the feeling of desolation overtook her. She stopped by a stone bench and swept away the few drops of rain still clinging to its surface so she could sit and gather herself.
A sound in her ear brought her head up, and the object of her thoughts was standing a few feet away from her. His hands behind his back, her person his sole focus. Charlotte’s skin flushed with colour, but she straightened her spine and made as if to stand.
“Please, Miss Williams, do not trouble yourself. I did not mean to intrude upon your quiet time.”
His voice had a pleasing timbre, and his smile took her breath away. She returned it tentatively and sat with her hands clasped in her lap, wondering what to say. The weather was always a good, safe subject for idle conversation. She said the first thing that came into her head.
“Doesn’t the air smell delightful after the rain?”
FIVE
She is delightful, Edmund thought, suppressing a smile
as he regarded Charlotte. He had not seen his new governess for a few weeks, but the recall of his first sight of her had not left his memory. He had watched her when she first appeared, holding her skirts delicately above the ground as she strolled around his garden.
The sky blue gown she had worn was simple of cut, but figure-enhancing in all the places that would make a man notice the sumptuousness of her curves. It emphasised her femininity without being vulgar, and still somehow managed to emphasise her innocence. He had deliberately stayed away from her schoolroom, not only because he wanted her to assert her own authority over the girls, but also because he recognised her as a clear and present danger to his desire to remain aloof from entanglements with beautiful women. Her position as his governess was not an automatic deterrent to his interest, and so his physical absence was mandatory.
But today, he needed to breathe in the air as she did… where she did. After the morning he had had, with the tenacious Lady Henrietta Aston, he needed someone clean and pure, to wash away the memory of the other woman’s presence. Someone in fact, like his charming new governess, Charlotte Williams.
Edmund knew only too well what Henrietta Aston was after, and he was determined that she would never get him into her clutches. He would not allow himself to be manipulated again, neither by conniving parents or scheming daughters. She and her mama had been the last of his house party guests to arrive, and they had been the last to leave.
Edmund understood the tactic, and admired it, the way a general admires an enemy’s strategic battle plan. But he had been immensely grateful when their carriage had arrived to whisk them away from his home. He promised himself that he would not indulge in anything other than polite conversation with Miss Williams. He needed to set off for London to settle the vexed question of his breach of promise in the matter of his aborted marriage to Lady Emily Blount. A pleasant light-hearted exchange was welcome.
“The air does indeed smell delightful, Miss Williams,” he agreed, inhaling deeply. Then, looking at her searchingly, he added, “I hope that you are adjusting well to your work?”
