“What was the gentleman’s appearance?” Ruth asked.
“He was fair and quite tall, taller than my Uncle Hodder. I thought him amazingly handsome.” Remembering the coldness of the gentleman’s eyes as he challenged the shopkeeper, she added, “His eyes were most remarkable … an uncommon blue, much like a deep lake in late summer.”
When the topic of the handsome stranger had been exhausted, the two women unwrapped Anne’s purchases and planned how they would redecorate her dress.
Once her gown had been refurbished, Anne began a series of employment interviews that had been arranged by her aunt. Of the four interviews she was granted, none was successful. Two prospective employers turned her away for lack of references, one said she was too young, another felt she was too old.
At the end of the week, greatly discouraged, Anne was sitting in her room setting tiny stitches along what seemed to be the endless hem of a sheet when Ruth burst in.
“Anne!” she exclaimed. “I have heard of a position. Or, I should say, Mrs. Crookshank has.”
“My aunt’s cook?” Anne patted the cushion next to her on the small sofa. “Sit down,” she invited, instantly hopeful. “Tell me!”
“It seems Mrs. Crookshank has a cousin who works as a parlor maid to Lord Tenbury. His lordship’s sister-in-law is seeking a governess for her daughter.”
Anne’s face fell. “A governess! But we decided I could not—”
“You could manage this,” Ruth interrupted. “The child is only eight, has barely left her nurse. You could easily teach her, for several years at least.”
“How would I apply for the position?”
“Mrs. Crookshank is planning to visit her cousin tomorrow. She said she would be willing to take a letter and pass it on to his lordship’s butler.”
Anne promptly drafted a request for an interview and sent it with the cook the following day. Two days later she received an answer sent round from Grosvenor Square. When she saw the direction, her hopes faded; no resident of such a lofty address would hire a governess without references.
The letter offered an appointment the following afternoon at two o’clock. She decided she would not go—could not go; then in the next instant asked herself what she had to lose. A little pride, perhaps. “This is no time to let pride control your life, Anne,” she could hear her father say.
Lord Tenbury looked up from his morning paper as his secretary entered the study.
“Excuse me, my lord. The agency has referred another applicant for the tutor’s position. I scheduled an appointment for this afternoon.”
“Excellent, Raymond. But don’t bother to bring him to me if he is as addlepated as the last, or as old as the one before him. I am beginning to believe, as Mrs. Saunders does, that there is not a single qualified tutor in this town whom my nephew has not already offended.”
“What of the applicants for governess, sir?”
“I should like you to see them first,” his employer replied. “Those you consider qualified will be interviewed by Mrs. Saunders. She will make the final decision.”
When an unprepossessing, unattended female claiming to be Miss Anne Waverly presented herself at Lord Tenbury’s town house that afternoon, the butler did not hesitate to admit her. He led her across a wide black-and-white tiled hall, past the graceful, curved stairway that ascended to the floors above, and past the closed doors that lined the hall’s perimeter. One set of double doors to a handsome library stood open, but Anne had no more than an instant to glance inside as she passed. The butler preceded her through a door at the rear of the hall, continued the length of a narrow passageway, then opened a door on his left. He stepped aside to allow her to enter as he announced, “Miss Anne Waverly, sir.”
Mr. Raymond rose to his feet and indicated a chair near his desk. “Please, Miss Waverly, won’t you be seated?” Anne seated herself as he continued, “The position Mrs. Saunders seeks to fill is that of governess for her daughter, aged eight.”
Anne had knocked on the mansion’s street door with boldness, determined to convince these people that she was the best possible candidate for the position. But one look at Mr. Raymond’s stern features was enough to weaken her resolve.
“Yes, sir,” she said meekly. “That is the place for which I wish to apply.”
“May I ask how you came to know of it?”
“The governess in my aunt’s house heard of it and informed me.”
“And your aunt is …?”
“Mrs. Hodder, Oxford Street.”
“Your letter did not mention any previous experience as a governess, Miss Waverly. Have you any?”
“No, sir. I lived with my father until his death last year, but I have an excellent education, and I enjoy children. I believe I could fill the position to Mrs. Saunders’s satisfaction.”
“May I see your references?”
“I have no references, sir, aside from a letter from my uncle, Mr. George Hodder.”
His raised brows were enough to tell her that a biased opinion from a relative carried little weight with him.
“I was hoping I might be able to speak with Mrs. Saunders,” Anne hurried on, “to explain my situation to her.”
Mr. Raymond rose and pulled the bell rope and Anne knew her short interview was over. “I am terribly sorry, Miss Waverly, but Mrs. Saunders desires a woman with experience. You admittedly do not fill the requirement. And without references … well, I am sure you understand.”
“Yes. I am afraid I do,” she replied, rising to her feet. “Is Mrs. Saunders at home?”
“Yes, she is,” he answered, taken off guard by the question.
“Is there any chance I might speak with her?”
He smiled tightly. “I am afraid not, miss.”
“I understand. Thank you for seeing me, sir.”
Mr. Raymond crossed to the door and opened it as the butler arrived outside.
“Miss Waverly is leaving, Kimble. Please show her out.”
Anne dejectedly followed the butler back the way they had come. She had told herself this was exactly what would happen, yet she felt inordinately disappointed. She realized she had allowed herself to hope. If only she had been permitted to speak with Mrs. Saunders, perhaps she could have convinced her that she was capable of doing the job. The lady was home even now, possibly behind one of these very doors Anne was passing.
Anne’s thoughts were interrupted as the street door opened and a gentleman stepped into the hall. The muted light of the overcast afternoon filtered through the doorway behind him, accentuating the breadth of his shoulders.
As the butler said, “My lord,” and held out his hands to take the hat and cane the gentleman offered, a footman moved to close the door. Anne stood transfixed. All thoughts of Mrs. Saunders skipped from her head in that instant, for this gentleman was the gentleman of the milliner’s shop.
His hands now free, the gentleman acknowledged Anne’s presence with a simple, “Madam,” while she replied with an equally brief, “My lord.”
This formality disposed of, Kimble moved to open the door to show the lady out, but found she had not followed him.
Anne stood regarding the man before her. He was even more imposing than she remembered. He clearly did not recognize her. But then, why should he? He barely looked at her that day. For a moment she considered retreating and then realized she had nothing to lose.
“Lord Tenbury?” she asked tentatively.
He nodded slightly, and she continued, “Might I speak with you for a moment?” She felt she should elaborate somewhat but could not think what to say, especially before the servants. So she left it with the simple request, and held her breath waiting for his response.
Kimble turned back to the pair, forced now by circumstance to make an introduction he considered inappropriate. “This is Miss Waverly, my lord. She has come about the governess’s position.”
“I see,” Tenbury responded. “Perhaps you would come into my study, Miss Waverly. We
can speak privately there.”
Kimble moved immediately to a door set to one side of the hall, the stiffness of his back declaring his disapproval as loudly as any words.
Lord Tenbury paused at the door. “Have Mrs. Heathwaite send up some tea, Kimble.”
“Very good, my lord.”
When the door closed behind them, Anne was the first to speak. “I apologize for taking your time, Lord Tenbury. I inquired if I might speak with Mrs. Saunders, and Mr. Raymond said it was impossible. I should like to apply for the position of governess. Even though I am qualified, Mr. Raymond said that without references or experience, I cannot be considered.”
Seeming not to have heard this rush of words, he motioned her to a comfortable chair near the windows. “Please sit down, Miss Waverly. Did you buy those flowers the day we met?”
“You do remember,” Anne said.
“Certainly. Why should I not? They have transformed your bonnet; it is most becoming.”
The bonnet was a simple straw, but the compliment nonetheless pleased her.
As she sat down, he continued. “You seem eager to secure this position.”
“Yes, sir, I am. I need employment. And I believe I am well suited to this situation.”
“Employment is difficult to find without references,” he said.
“Yes.”
“How is it that you have no references?”
“I lived with my father until he died last year. I am seeking my first position.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Eight-and-twenty, my lord.”
“Where did you and your father reside?”
“In Cambridgeshire, near the university.”
“And have you no friend or acquaintance there—a man of letters—a peer perhaps?”
“There is the vicar of our parish,” Anne offered, wondering why she had not thought to ask him for a letter of introduction.
“Anyone else?” he prompted.
After a moment’s thought she offered, “Sir Hugo Scoville owned the cottage we rented.”
“Write to them,” Tenbury suggested. “Ask them for references. Then apply again to Mrs. Saunders. If the position is still open, I am certain she will consider you. If not, you will be well armed to secure another place.”
The door opened as the butler and a housemaid appeared to lay the tea. Anne rose self-consciously, the arrival of the servants making her aware of the impropriety of her private meeting with the earl.
As she backed slowly toward the door she said, “I think I will not stay for tea, my lord. Thank you for your help; I cannot imagine why I never thought to ask Sir Hugo—”
“Please sit and take some refreshment, Miss Waverly,” he interrupted. “I had not quite finished.”
Though his words were seemingly polite, his tone was imperious, and she knew she dare not disobey if she were to have any hope of getting the position. She returned to her seat and took the delicately painted china cup and saucer the maid offered. When the servants had left the room, the earl continued as if they had not been disturbed.
“Tell me about yourself. How came you by your education?”
She told him about her mother, how she had died when Anne was six. “I was taught by my governess and by my father, who was a scholar and translator.”
“Waverly,” he mused. “Was your father by any chance Maxwell Waverly?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Yes. Did you know him?”
“He gave a series of lectures at Cambridge while I was there. I remember finding them quite fascinating. I am sorry to hear—”
He paused as the door opened abruptly and a young man strode into the room. “I say, Nate. Would you mind if I took the grays this afternoon? … Oh … excuse me … thought you were alone.” Turning in Anne’s direction he sketched a bow. “How do you do, ma’am?”
“Allow me to present Miss Anne Waverly,” the earl said. “This is my brother, ma’am, John Saunders.”
Anne regarded Mr. Saunders with interest and immediately liked what she saw. He was a man in his early twenties, nearly as tall as his brother. His blond hair was a shade darker than the earl’s, and his eyes gray. He smiled warmly at her, while his pleasant voice said, “Delighted, Miss Waverly. Sorry to interrupt. Did not know Tenbury was engaged.”
“Miss Waverly is interested in the governess’s position,” the earl said.
“That is a round one,” his brother replied. “When did it become your duty to interview household staff?”
Once again made aware of the inappropriateness of her interview with the earl, Anne rose to her feet, wishing to be gone.
Ignoring his brother’s question, Tenbury said, “Please be seated, Miss Waverly. My brother is a perennial rattle. More than half of all he says should not be attended to.”
“He is correct in this instance, my lord,” Anne replied. “My employment is not your concern, and I have imposed upon you long enough. I must go.”
“As you wish. Kimble will see you to a hackney carriage.”
“I would prefer to walk, Lord Tenbury,” Anne objected. “It is only a few steps.”
“Kimble will call you a hackney, Miss Waverly,” he said, smiling. “Good day.”
Since his tone was one that brooked no argument, she offered none, but merely echoed his “Good day,” and followed the butler from the room.
A footman was sent running, and within a few minutes a hackney was waiting at the curb. She wanted to object, not wishing to spend the money when she could as easily walk, but when Kimble tossed several coins to the driver, she entered the vehicle without a word and in a few minutes was deposited at her aunt’s door.
Even this short drive made her queasy, but she refused to let it dampen her spirits. She felt she had a chance for this position if only she could obtain sufficient references in time. She knew she could do the work and do it well. She smiled as she mounted the front steps of her aunt’s house. If her father had been there today, she knew he would have been proud.
Even with all its leaves removed, the Sheraton table in the dining salon of Tenbury House would accommodate twenty people; therefore, the Saunders family dined together at one end. Lord Tenbury occupied the place of honor at the head of the table; his brother Jack sat to his right, while his sister-in-law Arelia was on his left.
Arelia Saunders allowed half the meal to pass before she raised the question. “Is it true, Tenbury, the servants’ gossip I have been hearing?”
“It is not my custom to listen to servants’ gossip, Arelia,” the earl replied. “You must tell me what you have heard.”
“I understand that you spoke to a candidate for the governess’s position.”
“For once, servants’ gossip is accurate. I did indeed do so.”
“How extraordinary,” Arelia said.
The earl allowed her comment to pass and merely replied, “Her name is Waverly, Miss Anne Waverly. She is in the process of obtaining references. I believe she plans to apply to you for the position. If she does, I strongly suggest that you consider her. She seems highly qualified.”
“What is she like?” Arelia asked with interest.
“She is tall, dark, extremely thin,” Tenbury replied. “Her features are unremarkable.”
“I disagree,” Jack offered. “I found her eyes quite unique. They are green and unusually alive … most expressive.”
“When did you meet her, Jack?” Arelia asked.
“He invited himself into my study in the midst of our conversation and then offended the lady with thoughtless chatter,” Tenbury said.
“Not so!” his brother objected.
“You have not completely answered my question, Tenbury,” Arelia persisted, “What of Miss Waverly’s character?”
“She is highly intelligent,” he replied, “candid, tenacious—traits I find desirable in an educator.”
“And her family?” she asked.
“Her parents are both dead. Her father was Maxwell Waverly,
a scholar, translator of the classics. I met him years ago and admired him. His father was a baronet of an old Yorkshire family. Miss Waverly’s mother was the daughter of Sir Giles Pentworth of Norfolk. That is all she told me.”
“She sounds like someone I should like,” Arelia offered.
“Perhaps,” was all the earl replied, as he appeared to lose interest in the subject and nodded for a footman to refill his wineglass.
Chapter 4
Anne’s letters to Mr. Boone and Sir Hugo were answered within a week. Armed with these references, she applied again to Mr. Raymond and was granted an interview with Mrs. Saunders, the position of governess having not yet been filled.
If the truth were told, Arelia Saunders had several excellent applicants but had purposely delayed choosing a governess on the outside chance she would hear from Miss Waverly. Mildly surprised that Tenbury had met with the woman, she was even more intrigued when he recommended her.
Arelia hoped to meet her and discover what it was that had left such an impression upon her brother-in-law. She had never heard him describe any woman in the terms he had applied to Miss Waverly.
While Arelia Saunders looked forward eagerly to the interview, Anne traveled the short distance from Oxford Street to Grosvenor Square with a combination of anxiety and dread. She had worked diligently to secure this meeting, but now that the moment had arrived, she was filled with doubt. She knew her education was unconventional, and she was well aware of her deficiencies. Trying desperately to think of some excuse that would explain her lack of musical skills, she climbed the steps of Tenbury’s residence and sounded the knocker.
Kimble greeted her with an expressionless face, and she could not decide if he bore her any ill will as a result of her previous visit. He led her to a parlor hung with gold and ivory paper and furnished with great elegance. Dark blue curtains were swept back to reveal a private garden enclosed by a vine-covered wall.
Seated on a sofa near the fire was a strikingly handsome woman. In a morning dress of deep amethyst, her golden hair arranged to curl riotously about her face, Mrs. Saunders looked nothing like the widow Anne had expected to see. Anne had had misgivings about her dress from the moment she put it on. Advancing now to greet Mrs. Saunders, she was wishing both herself and her dowdy dress at Jericho.
Lois Menzel Page 3
