by Abby Ayles
I did have a pleasing chance encounter that I thought I might share with you. It was at an event held by the Earl of Cunningham. I am sure you know why I was most especially dreading this engagement.
Mother insisted that Colton and I attend. So, with great reluctance, I went. It was there that two marvelous happenstances occurred.
The first, I was introduced to The Marquess of Bellfourd. He was kind enough to recognize my name in meeting, and asked if I was the friend you spoke to his sister about. Once I confirmed it was correct, I spent a greater part of the night in conversation with the gentleman.
It was a pleasant time, spent reminiscing about some of my fondest memories with you. Lord Bellfourd even danced with me- twice! I do think, for the most part, it was to keep himself otherwise engaged.
I am sure you can only imagine the scene that followed the heir of a dukedom with no current attachments.
I must admit that one of the interested parties was none other than Lady Lydia. This is what brings me to my second occurrence. While Lord Bellfourd was yet talking to my brother, Lady Lydia came to join in the small party we had formed.
I am sure I don’t have to remind you how awful she was to me as a child at Mrs. Mason’s school. I still don’t think I could ever forgive her for dipping my hair in ink during our lessons. Life was undoubtedly horrid with Lady Lydia before you joined our school.
Well, Colton was well aware of who Lady Lydia was, and how she had tormented me as a child, and when she came to join our group, he went out of his way to not include her in the conversation.
Apparently, this didn’t deter her, as she seemed to have some connection to Lord Bellfourd’s family.
Lord Bellfourd and Colton were discussing the Marquess’ time as a captain in the Royal Navy. I am sure you can guess that Colton was enthralled by his tales, wishing that he, too, could have a taste of adventure. Lady Lydia took the opportunity to comment to Lord Bellfourd on his “bravery, when surely other men would shrink at such dangerous settings.”
Now, you know I am not one to often speak up and say what I think, as you are so frequently courageous enough to do, but Colton, on the other hand, never shies away from a situation.
My dear brother looked Lady Lydia right in the eyes and said, “I dare say a sign of true character and bravery is when one stands up to their persecutors and refuses to let their taunting dishearten and run them away from the battle.”
Of course, Lord Bellfourd did not entirely grasp his meaning, but both Lady Lydia and I did. She rose up quite shamefully and excused herself from our company.
I know that my brother can be a very trying tease at times, but I don’t think I could have ever been prouder to call him my sibling than at that moment.
I hope that, in some way, it made Lady Lydia think on the harsh way she treated not only me, but so many others as a child. I fear, though, that a lady of her personality will always find the need to bring others down to make herself feel all the better.
I do hope that you are still getting on well in your new home. You must write back to me soon and tell me all about your pupil’s reaction to her birthday gift. You were always an excellent hand at embroidery and I am sure that it was a beautiful treasure to behold.
I hope that someday our paths do cross again but until then, you shall remain my dearest long-distance friend.
Louisa
Isabella smiled down at her friend's words as she read them over a second time. She missed Louisa terribly. It wasn’t until she saw the smudge of ink on the third read through that she realized she was crying.
If she thought long and hard about it, there wasn’t much she could say with certainty that she missed about her life back in London. Louisa was one of the few people her heart dearly ached to see again.
Isabella drifted off to sleep that night with a single thought in her head. Perhaps, one day, she would be reunited with her sincerest, most faithful friend.
Chapter 17
Dear Louisa,
The last few months passed by in a blur of activity. With autumn arriving, I have begun to feel what authentic cold weather is like up north.
I am spending much of the day occupied with Jackie and her studies. Jackie is incredibly smart and has already learned to read the Lord’s Prayer and several other Bible passages on her own. We have also worked to improve Jaqueline's handwriting in both English and French so that she might start to write to her mother on her own.
With the return of Lord Bellfourd for the remainder of the summer, we have had many glorious afternoons outside, exploring the vast estate Wintercrest has to offer in his company.
For Jackie’s seventh birthday, the Marquess bestowed upon her a very fine pony of her own. Because of this, at least two or three days a week, Jackie and I spend our afternoons out riding.
I offered to stay behind while Lord Bellfourd took his niece on these equestrian trips, but he insisted I join them. I must admit that I did not realize how much I had missed riding. It reminds me so much of our many trips riding through the parks in the warmth of a London summer.
Though the Duke of Wintercrest has recovered from his fall, he is sadly still not in the best of health. He remains in his study, in bed, for most of the day. He still struggles to take in air and says there is an awful pain in his side when he stands. The doctor has been by many times to attend to his patient, but I fear there is not much else that can be done for the duke.
Because of his condition, he refuses to see Jackie at all. Instead, I stand before him twice a week and explain to him all that Jackie has learned thus far. I do my very best to show her in the most glorious light, in hopes that the duke will find favor with her but so far, it is to no avail.
With the duke still so ill, Lord Bellfourd has taken on the responsibilities of the house. I can see that it is a great weight on his shoulders and one he still struggles to accept. I do my best to show him, every day, that the improvements he has made to the estate and the household make Wintercrest all the more enjoyable to live in.
One such change was the move of my quarters from the attic to the room adjoining the school room and apartments that Jackie uses. I did enjoy my little attic room and port window, but cannot complain, for it is a much shorter distance to travel to my pupil.
I am also happy to find that the accommodations in my new room are much better furnished for the post of governess. I have a small bookshelf, which I happily use for the novels I brought with me. I also have a lovely fireplace with a comfortable chair beside it, where I can read and embroider in the evening. There is also a small writing desk that I am now using as I write my letters to you.
I am also happy to say that the proximity has been a lessened burden on Betsy, who had the terrible task of walking all the way to the far end of the house to bring me supplies each morning.
Betsy has become such a kind friend to me. Each morning, as she deposits my basin of hot water, she also takes a moment to practice her skills in plaiting hair. She hopes to be a lady’s maid someday, and I dare say she will be, with such a gentle touch and fantastic talent.
Although these last months have been filled with joy, something is weighing me down in the back of my mind.
As I told you in my last letter, Lord Bellfourd has invited me to take breakfast with the family and occasional family dinners.
It was at this that l learned how close of a relation the Earl and Lady Cunningham have with my present company. In fact, Lady Wintercrest is such dear friends with Lady Cunningham that she has recently invited her, as well as Lady Lydia, to come stay at the manor after their time in town.
I am sure you can guess the main reason for such encouragement to bring Lady Lydia here. I am not only dreading the arrival of the lady but the possibility of Lord Bellfourd attaching himself to her.
Lord Bellfourd is such a warm and kindly gentleman, I can’t even imagine him finding interest in a woman with such a high nose in the air.
I know that my feelings toward Lady
Lydia have been tainted by past experiences. I tell myself every day, as we draw closer to her arrival, that I must not judge the lady by our childhood, but cannot help but do so.
I genuinely hope that she is a changed woman and much more agreeable company. I do, however, find solace in the fact that if she is not, I will often be able to retire to my own privacy and not have to spend much time socializing with her.
I suppose that is one of the many excellent benefits I have in my new station.
Warmest Regards,
Izzy
Chapter 18
After leaving her letter to be posted, Isabella made her way up to Jaqueline for her morning lessons. She was very excited about the upcoming plans she had for Jackie’s education.
They would spend the morning reading On the Approach of Autumn and other poems by Amelia Opie, a favorite of Isabella's. Then Isabella planned to take Jackie out after lunch for an afternoon of exploring the changing foliage of fall.
Aside from collecting colorful leaves and warm color flowers to decorate the school room, Isabella hoped also to catch a few caterpillars. She was excited to make a project of them for the duration of the winter and following spring months.
Isabella remembered doing such a project herself as a young girl. Each week she would take care of and carefully watch the fattening caterpillar till it retired to its magical cocoon. Isabella recalled the charm of watching the insect expand from its home the following spring, a beautiful new creature.
Isabella was excited to share such a memorable experience with her pupil. It was not only an informative lesson in natural science, but also an easy comparison to the process of oneself developing into a beautiful, graceful young lady.
After a cozy morning reading by the fire and a light luncheon, Isabella followed the excited Jackie as they made their way out past the central gardens of the estate. Isabella came armed with a large basket, prepared for collecting treasures, and a jar home for caterpillars.
Isabella tightened the thick woolen shawl that Mrs. Murray had knitted for her closer to her bodice. She was so grateful for Mrs. Murray’s motherly tendencies and was confident that she would have frozen without them this winter.
The sky was turning from its usual, everyday grey to a much more sinister hew of green. Because of this, Isabella decided they should not stray too far past the safety of the manor in the event of rain.
They walked joyfully along the wooden paths extending outward from the manicured gardens in a happy step. From time to time, Jackie would stop to point out an orange-hued leaf that had fallen to the ground or a wildflower still finding bloom in the late season. All were collected and tucked safely in Isabella’s basket.
They finally arrived at the small meadow that Jackie enjoyed so much. It was wide and open with deciduous trees framing its outline. Just before entering the field, Isabella caught a movement and stopped Jackie from going any further.
“Look,” Isabella whispered, coming down to Jackie’s level.
Jackie focused her eyes on the meadow in front of her. Then she gasped in delight as she saw two white ears poking up from the tall grass.
“Miss Watts, is it a white rabbit?”
Both girls crouched quietly at the edge of the meadow while they watched the top of the white rabbit hop from place to place. Every so often, he would stop and lift himself on his hind legs to sniff the air for danger.
“It must be,” Isabella said very softly. “Look how he hops around.”
“Do you think I can follow him?”
“Marvelous idea. Though, you must let me come with you,” Isabella said, setting her basket to the side.
“We must move slowly and quietly. If we frighten him, he will run in a flurry and he may lose his path home.”
Jackie nodded in understanding. They moved very slowly and cautiously as they followed the snow-white bunny to his home.
Isabella didn’t pay much mind to how deep the two had crept into the woods, nor did she remember her own admonition to watch the sky for rain.
Finally, the rabbit stopped just before a burrow at the root of a tree. Isabella and Jackie hid behind a large pine and watched. The rabbit stood up, sniffing the air one last time to check for danger before quickly darting into his home.
“Let’s go, too,” Jackie said with innocence.
Before Isabella could respond, a giant droplet of water made its way through the trees and landed right on top of Isabella's bonnet. She looked up, remembering the darkening sky. Another fat drop of water fell right on her forehead between the dark curls that framed her face.
“Oh dear, I wasn’t paying attention. Jackie, we must hurry home before we get soaked.”
“We haven’t collected our caterpillars yet,” Jackie said to the sky.
It seemed to Isabella that Jaqueline was telling the sky to hold off on its autumn downpour. Unfortunately, it didn’t listen.
Isabella and Jackie ran from tree to tree seeking some shelter from the torrential downpour of rain. By the time they got back to the meadow, they were both soaked to the bone.
Isabella wrapped her own woolen shawl around Jaqueline’s pelisse hoping to keep as much cold and moisture off of her as possible. Running as fast as she could in her soaked petticoats, Isabella scooped up the basket of treasures and empty jar and made her way, Jackie in hand, back up to the manor house.
By the time they made it to the service entrance at the side of the house, Isabella could scarcely see in front of her, so thick were the sheets of rain coming down.
She hurried Jackie inside to the protection of the house. She found Mrs. Murray waiting for them in the dining hall.
“Oh, I was worried something fierce over you two lasses,” she said coming to them and peeling off Jaqueline’s sopping shawl hat and jacket.
“The rain just came so suddenly,” Isabella said through chattering teeth.
“Well, we best get the wee lass upstairs. I’ll have a nice hot bath made for her.”
Isabella nodded in agreement, but before she could make a move, Mrs. Peterson entered the room.
“Miss Watts, I would like a word with you, if you please,” she said curtly.
“Can it not wait till they’ve had a chance to get some fresh, dry clothes on?” Mrs. Murray replied, having no fear of the housekeeper like all the other servants.
“It’s alright,” Isabella assured the nurse. “I will be but a moment and join you both upstairs.”
Without a further word, Mrs. Peterson turned on her heels in her usual fashion, expecting Isabella follow. She did as was expected and accompanied the housekeeper to her small office.
Isabella stood for a moment before the harsh wooden desk in the small office. There was no sound save the rustling of Mrs. Peterson’s keys and the dripping of Isabella’s skirts.
Mrs. Peterson had originally been as equally unkind and unfeeling toward Isabella as she was to the rest of the servants. That had changed, as of late. Since the change of her living quarters and the daily invitations to dine with the family, Mrs. Peterson had taken on a particular dislike for Isabella.
She was now continually interjecting herself, not only into every movement that Isabella made, but also into Jaqueline’s education. Isabella was an affront to the propriety Mrs. Peterson made it her mission to uphold in the Wintercrest household.
“I don’t like to discuss matters with His Grace concerning the running of his staff unless absolutely necessary,” Mrs. Peterson began, her cool brown eyes looking hard on Isabella. “I feel I have no choice after today.”
“No choice about what?” Isabella asked, confused.
“You took young Miss Jaqueline out in abysmal weather, brought her back chilled to the bone, and quite possibly caused her to catch her death. I cannot sit by silently when such frivolous liberties are taken with a young child’s health.”
“You speak as if I purposefully took her out into the rain,” Isabella retorted, shocked at what she was hearing. “We go out every afternoon
, as His Grace has instructed us to do. Naturally, I meant to keep today's exercise short, but we unfortunately still got caught in the rain. I hurried her home as quickly as was possible.”
“I don’t care to hear your excuses,” Mrs. Peterson waved off. “I am in charge of seeing this house run smoothly and I cannot do so if I am constantly watching over you and the decisions you make. I am sorry to say that I will be recommending that His Grace remove you from employment.”
“Remove me from employment?” Isabella stammered, shocked at the accusations and threats thrown at her.
Isabella knew keenly that this action had nothing to do with her ability to teach, or even care for, Jaqueline. It had everything to do with her friendship with Lord Bellfourd and Lady Abigail. Mrs. Peterson was looking for any reason to remove her and find what she deemed a more suitable replacement.
“You would honestly go to the Duke of Wintercrest, while he is still very much frail, and burden him with such a trivial event. It was nothing more than an accident. I never meant to keep Jaqueline out in poor weather. The duke, himself, was the one who instructed me to take Jaqueline on daily walks. I can't imagine he would dismiss me because one such event had a poor ending.”
Mrs. Peterson seemed to think this over. Was it really worthwhile to disturb His Grace, when he was already so frail of body, with the worrisome obligation of replacing a governess?
“I suppose you are right,” Mrs. Peterson said, standing and placing her hands in front of her. “I will take it up with Lord Bellfourd instead. Please stay in your room for the remainder of the evening until I send for you.”
Mrs. Peterson waved her hand by way of excusing Isabella from the room. Isabella was stunned into silence, something she would admit almost never happened to her. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before turning on her heels and storming out of the room.
Chapter 19
