‘Perhaps tomorrow, Edward?’ Lisette’s voice was subdued. ‘I think I should prefer to stay with Pip till she goes to sleep. Aunt Julia is right, she is very tired.’
As the two left the dining room and went up the stairs Pip whispered, ‘Can I see Miss Petrie, Lisette? I knew if I asked Aunt Julia she’d say no, so I didn’t. But I’d like to tell her how well I behaved.’
‘I’ll see if she’s well enough,’ said Lisette with a smile. ‘I was proud of you today, Pip, and I think it might do Miss Petrie some good to hear about it. Let me ask her first.’
Miss Petrie wasn’t in bed, as they had half-expected. The lamp by the bed was lit, but she was sitting in a chair by the window, gazing out into the darkness. But she turned and smiled when she saw Lisette’s head round her door.
‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Where’s Pip?’
‘I’m here!’ Lisette held Pip firmly back. ‘We’re sorry you have a headache again,’ she said. ‘Would we be too much for you?’
‘Never!’ said Miss Petrie. ‘Come in.’
‘Aunt Julia thought you weren’t really ill,’ said Pip, looking at her governess’s pale cheeks and heavy eyes. ‘But I think you look very ill, Miss Petrie. I think you should get Edward to send for the doctor.’
‘I…I don’t think that will be necessary, Pip. It…it’s only a bad head. Tell me how you did today.’
‘I was very good!’ announced Pip. ‘I was very good all day.’
‘Was your aunt pleased with you?’
‘She didn’t say so. But she must have been. It was very boring at the Allardyces, though.’
‘Poor Pip,’ said Lisette with a smile. ‘She tried so hard. I was really proud of her.’
‘I’m glad. I think that deserves a cuddle, Pip darling.’
Pip needed no second invitation. She clambered on to her governess’s lap and hugged her. Miss Petrie shut her eyes, and Lisette said quickly, ‘I think that’s enough, Pip. We’ve stayed long enough. You’ve told Miss Petrie about today, now we must let her rest. Come along.’ Pip got down reluctantly and allowed herself to be led to the door. Here Lisette stopped. ‘Can I fetch anything for you?’
‘Thank you, but no. I shall go to bed very soon, and will be perfectly fit and ready to hear more about your day tomorrow. Goodnight, my dears.’
Pip was very quiet as they left to go to her room. Lisette kept her sister company while one of the maids undressed and washed her, then put her to bed. The maid went away, and Lisette came over to kiss her goodnight.
‘Lisette,’ said Pip in a troubled voice. ‘Miss Petrie was crying.’
‘I don’t think so, Pip!’
‘Yes, she was! It was too dark by the window for you to see, but her cheeks were wet. She was crying.’
Lisette hesitated. Then she said, ‘I expect it was the headache. Remember how your head ached when you were ill? Let’s hope she’s better tomorrow. Goodnight, Pip.’
Lisette went out quietly. She hadn’t wanted to worry Pip, but she very much feared that they were about to lose Miss Petrie sooner than they had expected.
Meanwhile, Julia was about to launch her campaign. ‘Lavinia Allardyce tells me that Daisy Ledbury is a much wronged wife. Did you know? Ledbury is hardly ever at home, and usually in some very doubtful company. Female company.’
‘Well, yes, I had heard something of the sort,’ said Edward curtly. The last thing he wanted to hear was gossip repeated from the Allardyce woman. Julia was bound to find some reason to moralise somewhere, and he didn’t think he could take it.
‘Of course, morals are so slack in England,’ she went on. ‘Even among persons one might have thought would set an example. Especially to the young.’
‘Really?’ said Edward in his most repressive tone.
Julia took no notice. ‘I had always expected governesses and the like would have a higher standard of behaviour than most,’ she went on. ‘But apparently it isn’t so. Take Miss Petrie, for example.’
Edward stiffened. Julia could not possibly know of the scene in the tower room. Not possibly! Not even any of the servants had been around this afternoon, and Julia and the rest of the family had been in Guildford. So what did she mean? He said coldly, ‘If you are about to be unpleasant about Miss Petrie, Julia, then you can save your breath. I know you don’t approve of her, though heaven knows why. But I have always been very satisfied with her.’
‘I’m sure you have, Edward,’ said Julia significantly. ‘But did you know she had a lover?’
‘A lover? What nonsense is this?’
‘No nonsense, my dear. I have made very careful enquiries. Miss Petrie’s lover has been staying at the inn in the village. He left just as I arrived—only two days ago.’
Edward stood up. ‘Be careful what you say, Julia! I won’t have your poisonous tongue slandering a woman I hold in the highest esteem!’
‘Yes, well, that’s another story, isn’t it? She has obviously caught you in her toils, too.’
By a very narrow margin Edward overcame his inclination to take his sister-in-law by the throat and choke her. The events of the afternoon had shaken him to the depths of his being and he was still very much off balance. He was no nearer to understanding what exactly had happened to him up there in the tower room, but to hear Julia, a woman he had always scorned and disliked, dragging Octavia’s name into the dirt like this was more than he would tolerate.
‘I don’t want to hear any more. I’ll leave you to wallow in your own filth, Julia. I don’t want to hear it.’
‘I can prove it!’ Julia’s voice stopped him at the door.
He turned round and said slowly, ‘If this is one of your fantasies, then by God, I swear I’ll ruin you—and your husband, too. It wouldn’t be difficult. Your finances are not as safe as you’d like them to be.’
‘What an unpleasant thing to say! You sound very fierce. I would be quite worried if I weren’t so sure of my facts.’ She eyed her brother-in-law with interest. ‘It seems you are even fonder of Miss Petrie than I thought. But if that’s the case, it’s better you should know the truth about her! That woman has been playing a double game, Edward. The day I arrived she was not just out for a walk. She was at the inn, enjoying a little idyll with a certain Mr Smith. Smith! You’d think she could find a better pseudonym for him!’
‘Go on,’ said Edward grimly.
‘I can answer for their meeting—I saw them myself, and she didn’t try to deny it. They were alone in the inn, enjoying a very intimate conversation, when I saw them. But there’s more to it than that. When I made enquiries I found that others had seen them kissing and hugging each other! She was even seen helping him to dress!’ Julia looked at him triumphantly. ‘Ask her! I challenge you—ask her who Mr Smith is! Let’s see if she tells you.’
Edward stared at her, stunned. Then he shook his head and burst out, ‘There’s some explanation. There’s got to be an explanation! I don’t believe that Octavia…that Octavia would do this.’ He shook his head. ‘I must get out of here. I can’t think…’ He strode out of the room, through the hall and out into the grounds.
Julia followed him out and watched him striding down the path. She smiled complacently. She was sorry for Edward. Truly sorry! Always so sure of himself, always so ready to criticise others. And now the tables were well and truly turned. It must be quite distressing for him.
Still smiling, she turned to go back inside, but a sudden gust of wind blew the oak door shut in her face. She stared at it in disbelief. Where on earth had that gust of wind come from? Inside the house? Impossible! With an impatient exclamation she took the bell pull in her hand and gave it an angry tug. No response. Where were all the servants? Keeping warm in the kitchen, no doubt, and ignoring the needs of their betters! It was cold out here. She pulled the bell again, more vigorously, and the handle came away in her hand. With a cry of pure frustration she threw the thing away and, shivering in the cold wind that had sprung up, she set off round to the kitchen quarters at
the side of the house. She would die of cold if she didn’t find them soon! Someone would pay for this, she would see to it personally! As for this wretched house…anyone would think it was trying to get rid of her. Well, if it was, she had received the message. They would all leave this ruin as soon as they could, and find a decent place in London. She would deal with the Petrie woman and then set about arranging it…Where was the damned door to the kitchen quarters?
Edward walked about the grounds for a while, strenuously resisting any thought of duplicity on Octavia’s part. Her honesty, her pride, her sweetness, her wit—all the qualities he treasured in her—were powerful arguments against Julia’s accusations. His judgement could not, could not have been so wrong! But as his temper cooled, reason started to take over. He reminded himself that Julia would not have made these accusations without very good grounds. She was malicious, but not stupid. There must be, must be a mistake somewhere! He would have to go down to the inn himself, if only to scotch the story.
He set off for the village, convinced he would soon have an explanation. Then he would deal with his sister-in-law as she deserved!
It was getting late, but the inn was still open and the landlord was perfectly prepared to talk. Yes, he had had a young gentleman by the name of Smith staying with him, as nice a gentleman as you could find. And handsome with it. He’d wager the lad had been a soldier, he had the air of one about him. No, he couldn’t answer for any visitors, not personally. But Maggie, one of the maids, had seen a young lady at the inn with him. Very affectionate they’d been. He thought she’d said it was the governess from the big house, but he could be mistaken, o’ course. Did Mr Barraclough wish to question the girl himself?
Edward was still hoping for a misunderstanding. Octavia had apparently admitted meeting Mr Smith at the inn, but perhaps the maid had been mistaken in what she saw? When the landlord produced her, he put the question.
‘Oh, no, sir!’ said Maggie, giving him a dimpled smile. ‘Most affectionate they were, huggin’ and kissin’. They hadn’t spent the night together, mind! But it was clear enough to anyone that they knew each other very well indeed—if you know what I mean. And it’s true that he was not what you might call properly dressed when I first saw them. No, they was very fond of each other, of that I’m certain sure. Lovely to see them, it was. Him so handsome, and her so pretty, like.’
Edward left the inn and walked back to Wychford in a daze. He went straight to the library and poured himself a large brandy. And another. He couldn’t understand it. Every instinct he possessed told him that there was something wrong. Octavia Petrie was honest. That he would swear to! But the evidence…How could she possibly have been so passionately responsive to him, if she was having an affair with another man? How could she have seemed so genuinely distressed, so movingly innocent when she realised how her behaviour must look?
Or was he being incredibly naïve? Had he forgotten that some of the most successful courtesans he had known had the art of projecting an appealing innocence that quickly disappeared once they were in the bedroom. But not Octavia! Dear God, no, not Octavia! He buried his head in his hands, trying not to remember the way she had pulled him to her, pressed herself against him, demanded his kisses. Were those the actions of an innocent? Before tonight he would have said yes, they were! They had been the reaction of an innocent who had till that moment been unaware of her own deeply passionate nature, someone who was experiencing for the first time the wildness, the temptation, of physical love. Surely her shame, her shocked modesty at the end, could not have been faked? But what if it had? What sort of a fool did that make of him?
His doubts grew. With the end of her time as a governess at Wychford fast approaching, had Octavia Petrie attempted to seduce the master into offering marriage? Had she really thought she could do it? If the truth were known, she had come damned close to succeeding, by God, she had!
Edward sat brooding the rest of the night. If this loss of judgement, this loss even of reason was what came of falling in love then he wanted none of it! Innocent or not, Octavia Petrie would have to go. Immediately!
In the morning he asked Octavia to come to the library.
Octavia, too, had spent a sleepless night. It was torture to her to remember her behaviour the previous day. She had behaved like a trollop! It was as if she had turned into another person altogether in that room in the tower, one who had no modesty, no shame, no self-respect! How could she have? Edward Barraclough had always made his position perfectly clear. He had no intention of marrying—neither his nieces’ governess, nor anyone else. And, knowing that fact, knowing that marriage played no part in his plans, she had allowed him to take such liberties with her! No, she had not allowed him, she had asked for them, pleaded for them. How could he possibly believe what she said, when she told him that she was not that kind of person? He probably remembered as well as she did that she had been just as wanton after he had helped her down from the tree. It was no use telling him, or herself, that she wasn’t that sort of person. She was, where Edward Barraclough was involved.
It was quite clear to her that now, whoever she told him she was, however she presented herself, he would regard her as fair game, an easy prize for the taking. Governess or great lady, it was all the same, what man would respect her after such a display of…of mindless abandon! She knew what people thought of women who behaved as she had, and it wasn’t flattering.
Worse than anything, she was afraid that, if Edward Barraclough kissed her again, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t behave in exactly the same way!
There was only one answer. She must remove herself from temptation, leave Wychford, leave Lisette and Pip, and go back to Ashcombe.
When Edward Barraclough’s request to see her in the library was delivered she was tempted to leave the house there and then. The thought of facing him terrified her. But she set her jaw and went down, grimly determined to see it through. She deserved his poor opinion of her, his contempt. She even deserved any attempt he might make to persuade her to become his mistress. But she would not change her mind. Whatever he said, she would tell him that she was leaving Wychford the next day, as soon as she could arrange some manner of reaching Ashcombe. On one thing she was absolutely determined. She would not tell him what her real position in life was. Her family didn’t deserve to have their reputation besmirched by her behaviour.
Edward was sitting behind his desk. He looked white and drawn, and her heart, her foolish heart, gave her a pang. He spoke without looking at her.
‘Sit down, Miss Petrie.’
She sat, looking at her hands which were folded in her lap. There was a silence. When he spoke again she did not at first understand what he was saying. A complaint from Mrs Barraclough? Was that all? Why this fuss about a complaint against her from Mrs Barraclough? What was new about that?
But when he spoke again her heart gave a thump and she began to feel cold.
‘Mrs Barraclough tells me you have had a friend staying at the inn. Is that right?’ When Octavia nodded he went on, ‘You didn’t think to let me know? Or bring him to the house to be introduced? It was a man, I gather?’
‘He…he was not supposed to come to Wychford. I didn’t want him here. I told him to leave as soon as he arrived.’
‘But he didn’t leave immediately, did he? He stayed long enough for a very affecting little scene to take place.’
Octavia looked up. Had Edward heard about Harry’s meeting with Lisette? Was that why he was so angry? She breathed an inward sigh of relief when he added, ‘At the inn. You were being very…friendly with each other.’
How ironic! It wasn’t Lisette he was angry about at all, but her own perfectly innocent meeting with her brother! Still cautious, she answered, ‘I…I…er…we are very good friends.’
She jumped as Edward thumped his fist on the desk. ‘Don’t try to play with me! The maid at the inn thinks you are lovers!’
Octavia was astounded. ‘That’s not so!’ she sa
id angrily. ‘How could you even think it? The girl’s a liar!’
‘Do you deny you were at the inn?’
‘No.’
‘Do you deny that you met a man there?’
‘No.’
‘Do you deny that he was only half-dressed when you met him the other day? That you embraced each other?’
‘No. But that’s because—’ Octavia stopped short. Her own hopes of happiness were in ashes, but Harry’s still had a chance. But not if Edward Barraclough learned about him while he was in this mood. She went on, ‘That’s because he had only just got up when I arrived. We were saying goodbye.’
‘How very touching! I suppose you were missing him yesterday when you so charmingly invited my attentions. Or had you thought I would be a better prospect? Hoped for marriage, even? How disappointed you must have been when I managed to avoid actually seducing you.’
His voice was suddenly so harsh, his words so cruel, that Octavia could hardly breathe for a moment. This was the man who had held her so tenderly, breathed such words of affection, not twenty-four hours before! Her heart felt as if it was being squeezed by an iron fist. The fact that she had half-expected his contempt didn’t make it any easier to bear.
‘I understand your suspicions,’ she managed to say at last. ‘They’re wrong, though I can hardly expect you to believe that. But for what it’s worth, I give you my word that Harry Smith is not, and never has been, my lover. As for yester—’ She choked and had to begin again. ‘As for yesterday, I am more ashamed than I can say about my behaviour. You are quite wrong about my motives, but I don’t blame you for thinking badly of me. You couldn’t think worse of me than I do of myself.’
Edward regarded her in silence. ‘You realise that I cannot possibly let you stay here after this?’
‘If you are looking for an excuse to send me away, I can spare you the trouble. I could not possibly let myself stay here after what happened between us, Mr Barraclough. I…I had hoped to stay with your nieces to the end, but I’m afraid you must explain to them why I must leave as soon as it can be arranged. Try not to destroy their illusions about me.’ Her voice wavered. ‘I have grown very fond of them.’
A Very Unusual Governess Page 16
