‘That’s good,’ she whispered, ‘because I would resist with all the strength I have. I won’t be any man’s mistress, however much—’ She stopped.
‘Go on!’
‘No! I won’t. I can’t! This is wrong.’ The instant she tried to remove herself from his arms he let her go, though the temptation to pull her back and kiss her was almost overwhelming. ‘Goodnight, Mr Barraclough.’
‘Octavia!’
‘My name is Petrie, sir. Miss Petrie. I am a governess. Goodnight!’ Before he could stop her she had gone into the next room and shut the door.
He went back to his room, but didn’t even bother getting into his bed. Instead, he sat up and wrote some letters till morning came.
Edward went again to Guildford the next day, but this time he left the carriage behind and rode. He wished, he said, to discuss some matters with Mrs Carstairs’s lawyer, who had his chambers there. In truth the ride through the countryside was almost more important to him than the meeting with Mr Walters. Edward was in a most unusual state of confusion, and he hoped that fresh air and exercise would help to clear his mind. But as he rode to Guildford, he was quite unaware of the glorious colours of the trees in their autumn foliage, the work going on in the fields to prepare them for the autumn ploughing.
He was struggling to come to terms with new and unwelcome thoughts. Before his nieces had come to England he had led the life of a wealthy bachelor, interested in his work, but always free to rove the world as he chose, to take up residence in London, Paris, Vienna, in the town or in the country, wherever he wished, without reference to any other person. It might be thought a selfish life—his sister-in-law certainly considered it so—but Edward had never cared for anyone else’s opinion enough to let it interfere with his pleasures. He had counted himself fortunate to have reached the age of thirty without any of the usual entanglements—wife, children, obligations to others…His chief enemy was boredom.
And then because of Julia’s accident he had been forced to accept responsibility for two young girls, orphans in a strange country. Though he had always been fond of his nieces, he had regarded their arrival as an imposition, an interference with his life of leisure. During the past weeks they had amused him, worried him, exasperated him, even occasionally annoyed him. But he had missed them when he had gone to London, and when the time came he would hand them over to Julia with real regret.
But they had brought with them Octavia Petrie, and this was now becoming a major problem, one that could not simply be handed over to someone else. The plain fact was that he could no longer persuade himself that his feelings were a temporary aberration. He suspected that they might well prove to be a real and permanent threat to his peace of mind. What was he to do about it?
Of one thing he was quite sure. Even if he had been ready to consider marrying—which he certainly was not—he would not think of marrying Octavia Petrie! He had never liked the Cinderella story. He had known men who had married women out of their sphere, and both partners had usually ended up very unhappily. Octavia Petrie was the last of a brood of children born to a respectable, probably not very wealthy, professional man. She had been brought up simply, quietly, in a remote country village. How could she possibly cope with life in London?
No, marriage to anyone was out of the question, but marriage to Octavia Petrie was especially so! He must not think of her as anyone other than his nieces’ governess. Indeed, if the girls had not been so fond of her, and if the end of her time with them had not been so close, he would have sent her away immediately. But to do so without cause, merely because he feared temptation, would be unjust. He must be strong and fight it out till she went.
Satisfied that he had reached the only possible conclusion, Edward rode on with a heavy heart to Mr Walters’s chambers. He arrived early and was kept waiting for a minute or two while the lawyer finished dealing with another client. When this client emerged, Edward was surprised to see he was a handsome young man, obviously from his bearing a soldier. A rare sight in the stuffy rooms of a country lawyer! But Edward’s momentary interest in the young man was forgotten as soon as he entered the inner room.
Here he met with a setback. His confidence that he could persuade any lawyer to do anything he wanted proved to be misplaced. Mr Walters was everything that was amiable, but he absolutely refused to divulge the name of his principal.
‘The lady’s family are among my oldest clients, Mr Barraclough. They are very protective of the owner of Wychford, and indeed, I cannot myself see why you wish to approach her. I do not think she had a great deal to do with Mrs Carstairs during the latter’s lifetime. So you must forgive me, but I very much regret that I am unable to oblige you.’ He spread his hands apologetically and sat back.
Edward frowned, then shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m disappointed. It seemed such a small thing to ask. However, I suppose I have to accept what you say, though I think the family are being very unreasonable. One might almost be led to think the woman an imbecile.’
The lawyer gave a chuckle. ‘I assure you that is far from being the case. She is eminently sane. But tell me, what do you think of Wychford? I’ve always thought it an odd sort of house.’
‘It’s delightful,’ said Edward. ‘My nieces love it. They will be sorry to leave it next spring. But I expect my sister-in-law will want to take them to London soon after she arrives. They’ll need a little town bronze.’
‘Quite! Well, if there is nothing else…?’
‘Nothing.’ Edward’s tone was abrupt. He added, ‘If your client should relent, you know where to find me. Good day, Walters.’
He went out, feeling that, one way and another, the world was not on his side!
It was as well that Octavia did not know that Edward Barraclough had actually passed Harry in the lawyer’s chambers, though neither had recognised the other. She had been on tenterhooks ever since that morning when her employer had announced his intention of seeking out Mr Walters in Guildford. It was difficult to concentrate on French grammar, or a review of the Counties of England together with the Seats of the Aristocracy to be found in them, when she was so anxious, and her lessons suffered as a consequence.
But this was not by any means the greatest of her worries. Her immediate concern might be the possible encounter in Guildford, but the turmoil in her mind had a deeper cause. In spite of her brave words the night before, it was Edward Barraclough’s scruples, not her own, which had saved her. The impulse to put her arms round his neck, to draw his head down to hers had been almost overwhelming…Perhaps she ought to acknowledge the truth, at least to herself. Octavia Petrie had at last fallen in love. And with a most unsuitable man.
Moreover, by her impulsive and stupid actions on her arrival at Wychford, she had put herself into an entirely false position. What would happen if Edward Barraclough discovered how she had deceived him? Harry had said straight away that he would throw her out on her ear if he were Edward Barraclough, and she rather thought that Mr Barraclough would feel the same. Her only hope was to remain undetected until she left. Then perhaps she could join the Season next year and meet the Barracloughs on her own ground. And perhaps, just perhaps, Edward might forgive her.
That was, of course, only half the story. She had no idea of what he really felt about her, though she was aware of his resistance to the idea of marriage. But granted she could meet him on level terms, she was sure she had a chance. He did like her, and there was certainly a strong attraction between them…
Octavia saw the girls looking at her curiously, and returned to discussing the castles, courts and great houses of England’s aristocracy.
Pip wanted to go out in the afternoon, and quite rightly said that the weather was perfectly suitable. Octavia had to agree, though she made Pip promise not to climb anything at all. The three of them wrapped up and set off round the back of the house, away from the main drive. Octavia wanted no encounters with Mr Barraclough on his return from Guildford! Pip was delighted to be in the
open air again and ran about under Octavia’s watchful eye for quite some time. But then she started to flag, and made no objection when Octavia suggested going back. Lisette, who had stayed to help entertain Pip, asked if she might just spend a few minutes by herself, looking for some specimens for her sketch book. Octavia hesitated, then gave in. There was still plenty of light, and, unlike Pip, Lisette was naturally cautious. She could hardly come to harm. So she made Lisette promise to follow them in after a quarter of an hour, and took Pip to get warm by the parlour fire.
Lisette was only slightly late, but came in with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, looking as if she had been running. Octavia wondered if the girl knew how stunningly beautiful she was. She thought not. Lisette was essentially a very modest young woman, and would have no idea of the impact her looks would have on the polite world. She might well find it difficult to cope with the admiration and attention that she would surely attract. Octavia made up her mind there and then, that, whatever happened between herself and Edward Barraclough, she would make certain she was in London during the next Season. The doors of Society’s most exclusive hostesses were always open to Lady Octavia Petrie. After all, she was related to half of them! She must make sure that Lisette had the success and the support she deserved.
Chapter Nine
Lisette was even quieter than usual over tea, and Octavia asked her if there was something wrong.
‘Oh, no, Miss Petrie! I was just thinking about…about this afternoon.’
‘Did you find many specimens?’
‘What? Er…no. Not many. The leaves are beginning to look faded, and I couldn’t find anything else worth bringing in. I might find some more tomorrow.’
‘We’ll see. I hope you aren’t sickening for something, Lisette. You look a little feverish.’
‘Please don’t worry about me. I feel very well, Miss Petrie.’
In fact, Lisette would have found it difficult to describe what she really was feeling! Guilty, nervous, excited, apprehensive…And all because of a chance ten minute encounter that afternoon with the handsomest young man she had ever seen. She fully intended to tell Miss Petrie all about it eventually, but just for the moment she wanted to keep it to herself. She gazed into the fire lost once again in the memory of that afternoon…
She had gone round to the front of the house and wandered off the drive up one of the paths through the wood. Suddenly she came face to face with a tall, blond young man. She was startled, but not really frightened. He looked harmless enough, though very handsome, and strangely, he seemed as shocked as she was. Lisette was quite reassured. After a moment during which he appeared to be trying to find his voice he stammered, ‘I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I…I was just w…walking in the woods. Where…where did you come from?’
It was such a ridiculous question that Lisette laughed. ‘I live here,’ she said.
‘At…at Wychford?’
‘Yes. I’m Lisette Barraclough. These are private woods, you know.’
‘Are they? Yes, of course!’ The young man appeared to be a little distrait, and Lisette began to wonder if she was wise to linger.
‘I…I must go back,’ she began. ‘My governess is expecting me.’
‘No! Don’t go! You must forgive me if I seem a bit bowled over. It’s just that I’ve never before met anyone as lovely as you.’
He blurted this out so straightforwardly, so simply, making no effort to come any nearer, that Lisette was both disarmed and deeply embarrassed. ‘Please,’ she said, holding her hands to her cheeks, ‘you mustn’t say such things. I don’t know how to take them.’ Then, feeling very shy, she went on, ‘Tell me instead where you come from. Are you staying in the village? Or are you a neighbour?’
‘I’m staying in the village for a few days. Visiting a…a friend. My name is Smith. Harry Smith.’
‘Like the famous soldier?’
‘You know of him?’
‘Yes, I do! I’ve read a lot about him. How brave he was, and how he rescued a young Spanish girl, and then married her…it’s such a romantic story! Oh, yes, I know quite a lot about Harry Smith—the other one, I mean.’
‘That’s wonderful!’ The young man gazed at her in admiration. ‘He’s one of my own heroes. That’s why—’ He stopped short. ‘Look, I’m not going to let you believe something that isn’t true. Not you. My name isn’t Smith at all, though it is Harry. There’s a good reason for it, but I can’t tell you at the moment. Please don’t let it put you off me.’
Lisette gazed at him doubtfully, but he looked so anxious that she smiled. ‘I believe you. But all the same, I can’t stay. I have to go, really I do. I promised I wouldn’t be long.’
‘Meet me tomorrow!’
‘I couldn’t! It wouldn’t be proper.’
‘Oh, hang being proper! No, I don’t mean that exactly…’ He shook his head in exasperation. ‘I don’t know how to put it. You must think I’m an idiot! You see, I’ve never been in this situation before. But I must see you again. Just a few minutes. Please!’
Lisette was strongly tempted. Her experience of young men was not wide, but this one seemed much nicer than any she had met before. ‘I’ll try,’ she said at last. ‘It’ll have to be in the afternoon. I have lessons in the morning.’
‘At two?’
‘Here?’
‘Here. You’ll come? That’s wonderful!’
‘Lisette!’ Lisette came back with a guilty start to the parlour. Miss Petrie was looking worried. ‘You were miles away just then. I think you must have caught something,’ she said and added decisively, ‘No more walks for you until we’re sure you’re not sick.’
‘No, no, I’m very well,’ Lisette exclaimed in fright. ‘Really I am!’ And she set about convincing her governess that she was, with such success that there was no further talk of remaining indoors the next day.
The next afternoon Lisette begged to be allowed to look again for specimens for her notebook. Miss Petrie readily agreed and suggested that they all three of them set off straight away. ‘I shall have to be back before a quarter to three,’ she said. ‘I have things I must do.’
‘I could go alone if it is inconvenient,’ said Lisette eagerly.
‘Thank you, but I’m quite sure your uncle would not like me to leave you to look after Pip while I do other things,’ said Miss Petrie with a smile. ‘No, Lisette, we’ll go now. There’s plenty of time.’
Lisette was unused to subterfuge. The last thing she wanted was to have Pip on her hands when she went out to meet her exciting new acquaintance. It was only half past one. With luck, she thought, she could arrange to have a little time to herself, when she could slip away.
She was luckier than she deserved. Pip wanted to stay close to the house, where most of the leaves had already faded or even vanished, and when Miss Petrie saw Pip’s sister looking longingly over to the other side she suggested that Lisette had ten minutes to herself again. ‘No more, mind!’
Lisette sped off back to where she had met ‘Mr Smith’. He was waiting for her. She was suddenly overcome with shyness.
‘Hallo,’ he said. ‘I’m jolly glad to see you—I never really thought you’d come.’
‘I…I…er…I shouldn’t have. My governess would be so disappointed in me if she knew I was meeting you.’
‘Rubbish! Tavy is a good sport. She wouldn’t mind a bit!’ he said heartily.
‘Tavy? You mean Miss Petrie? You know her?’
‘Oh! Er…Well, as a matter of fact, I do. In fact, she’s the one I’ve come to Wychford to see. Only it’s a touch difficult.’
‘You’re a friend of Miss Petrie’s? Is that why you wanted me to meet you again—so that I would agree to give her a message or something?’ Lisette was too young to hide her hurt.
‘Oh, Lord, no!’ Harry said hastily. ‘Not at all. You mustn’t believe—’
‘What else am I to believe?’
Harry stared at her in dismay, and Lisette suddenly felt she w
anted to get away. ‘I think I’ll go,’ she said stiffly. ‘They’ll be looking for me.’
‘No! Don’t go like this! It’s not what you think at all! Look, I’ll tell you something, but you must promise to keep it a secret.’
‘What is it?’ said Lisette, still rather stiff.
‘My real name is Petrie. Harry Petrie. Tavy is my sister.’
‘Your sister?’ Lisette felt a smile spreading over her face. ‘Really? Are you the one in the Army?’
‘She’s talked about me?’
‘Only a little. But why does it have to be a secret? I’m sure my uncle wouldn’t mind your coming up to the house to visit her.’
‘I’m sure he won’t—when one or two things have been sorted out. But you’ll have to take my word for it. It’s got to stay a secret for the moment.’
‘You’re not in any kind of trouble, are you?’
‘No! No, I promise you. It’s more that Tavy doesn’t want him to know about me. Yet. The situation is a touch delicate, take my word for it. Do you think you could do that? Keep it all a secret?’
‘Oh, yes! I suppose it’s really rather exciting. I’m so glad you told me—Miss Petrie is the nicest governess I’ve ever had.’
Harry started to chuckle. ‘I’ll tell her that, she’ll be pleased. She’s had enough experience of governesses herself.’
‘What did you say?’
‘Governessing! I meant governessing! She’s had a lot of experience. Er…when can I see you again? Can you get away tomorrow? At the same time?’
‘I’ll try.’
He looked at her, hesitated, then said awkwardly, ‘I’d like to know you a lot better, Lisette. I’ve not met anyone like you before.’
Lisette looked down. ‘Thank you. I haven’t known anyone like you. Perhaps, when Miss Petrie has told my uncle that you’re her brother, we could meet properly. But I think I must warn you. Edward is very strict. He doesn’t really wish me to make any new friends before I come out next year.’
A Very Unusual Governess Page 12
