To Love a Governess

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To Love a Governess Page 3

by Josi S. Kilpack


  Dina took another look at the three possible suspects and saw the man with the lighter hair glance toward Miss Johansson, whose attention was fixed on the girls. Dina looked back and forth between them, waiting for Miss Johansson to return the look or for this man to glance at her again.

  The girls finished the song before either action occurred, ending Dina’s opportunity. She joined in with the applause a moment after everyone else had begun and forced a bigger smile than she felt before moving forward to assist the girls with goodnights to their parents and parents’ guests before shepherding them back upstairs.

  ***

  Mary came up at nine o’clock to kiss the girls goodnight, as she did most nights, and Dina followed her from the room.

  “How does the party seem to be progressing?” Dina asked. “Are you pleased?” Mary had not thrown a house party since before Olivia was born and had been anxious about this one during the weeks of planning that had proceeded it. Dina had talked through several of the details over tea every afternoon as the plans had come together—she missed their daily tea time and looked forward to the routine again after the party was finished.

  Mary smiled widely and put a hand on Dina’s arm. “I’ve forgotten how very invigorating it is to share so many stories and opinions with friends and family.”

  “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves,” Dina commented, nearly choking on the words when she remembered how Miss Johansson was spending her time. “When did David’s mother arrive?”

  “Wasn’t it a lovely surprise?” Mary said. “I had invited her, of course, but she’d said she had another engagement, then had a rather abrupt change of plans. Have you had a chance to visit with her? She seemed eager to hear of your situation here. I had assumed she knew you were here, but apparently she did not until recently.”

  Is that why she came? Dina wondered. Had she learned of Dina’s employment as Mary’s governess and changed her plans so that she might mitigate Dina and David in such close company? The possibility made Dina feel small and deceptive, even though she’d had no hand in any of this. Mary had never noticed Dina and David’s connection in London, too distracted by her new baby and social obligations at the time to pay attention to what took place only when they were alone. She seemed to have interpreted their distance now as circumstance more than disregard or avoidance, and Dina had allowed that perception to take hold. During their discussions about the house party over tea, Mary had mentioned inviting David’s mother and Dina had said that of course she should—Mrs. Macarthur was Mary’s aunt, after all—and she had accepted that she would need to manage the potential awkwardness. When Mrs. Macarthur said she was unable to attend, Dina had been relieved and able to focus her worry only on seeing David again. Things had become so complicated so quickly.

  “I look forward to becoming reacquainted with Mrs. Macarthur,” Dina said. It was a lie, but Dina wished it were true and therefore did not feel as bad about having said it as she might otherwise. “Have all th’ guests arrived, then?”

  “Mrs. Macarthur and Mr. Littlefield were the last, having arrived this afternoon in a shared carriage.”

  “Mr. Littlefield must be one of the two men at tonight’s entertainment who I do not know. I believe I have met everyone else.”

  Mary stopped, turning toward her cousin with lifted brows. “Would you like to be introduced? I would be thrilled to include you, Dina.”

  Dina laughed off the suggestion that made her stomach wring itself out like a dishrag. “I am only curious as to their names and connection to you. I have no desire to be included—I’ve told you that more than once.”

  “I know, I know, but—”

  “I know Mr. Donning is Mr. Jennings’s uncle,” she interrupted, staving a repeat of Mary’s wish that Dina would participate with the group. “And Mr. Havershorn is a friend of Mr. Jennings’s from school, but what of the other two men?”

  “Mr. Littlefield and Mr. Dewberry are both friends of David. I believe David and Mr. Littlefield were at Eton together, and Mr. Dewberry is an acquaintance he made more recently through business of some kind. David suggested them when I told him I was looking for a few more men to make up the numbers.”

  “Which man is which?” Dina asked as they began walking again. If Mr. Dewberry were a more recent friend, he could have less loyalty to David.

  They were almost to the top of the stairs, which meant Dina had to hurry up this answer that was already too long in coming. “One was a bit portlier than the other.” It was the most distinguishing feature she could think of.

  “That is Mr. Dewberry,” Mary said with a nod. “Very jovial man and has an excellent singing voice. I wish you had stayed to hear him perform last night. He stood up after you and the girls departed.”

  “So Mr. Littlefield is the taller man, with the lighter hair.” The one who had glanced at Miss Johansson during Dina’s inspection and better fit Dina’s memory of the man she’d seen from the nursery window.

  “Yes,” Mary confirmed.

  “He and David have been friends for a long time?”

  “Nearly ten years, I think. He is from Norfolk; David used to stay with his family during school breaks from time to time.”

  Having received the information she needed, Dina slowed her steps, and Mary followed suit. They were nearly to the top of the stairs. “Did Mr. Littlefield know Miss Johansson before this party?”

  “I think so,” Mary said. “They seemed familiar with one another when all of us had luncheon, just after Mr. Littlefield arrived. He’s quite handsome, don’t you think?”

  “I had not noticed,” Dina said. Mr. Littlefield was not more handsome than David.

  Mary put her hand on Dina’s arm as they came to a stop at the top of the stairs. “Are you sure you would not like to come down? Lydia can look in on the girls.” Mary cocked her head to the side and gave Dina a hopeful look.

  Dina took a step back toward the nursery. “No, thank you. Have a lovely evening, Mary. I will see you in the morning for church.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Upon arrival at church the next day, Dina stayed apart from the party guests by greeting parish friends only to realize that by the time everyone was seated, she was directly behind Miss Johansson and David. The girls had stayed back with Lydia, and Dina wished they were here so that she had something to distract her from thinking only about David, his future bride, and Mr. Littlefield.

  Mr. Littlefield had chosen to go riding with Mr. Dewberry and Mr. Jennings instead of attend services, which Mary had not been happy about but accepted with a tight smile and slight scowl toward her husband, who was always finding excuses not to attend church. Dina listened with half an ear to the vicar’s sermon on patience while trying not to watch David and Miss Johansson too closely. How had they met? How deep was their connection to one another? How did Miss Johansson justify her choice to entertain another man? What was Mr. Littlefield’s situation in life?

  At one point, David turned his head and leaned toward Miss Johansson to whisper something in her ear. Pure jealousy clutched Dina’s heart, and she felt the oddest temptation to jump to her feet and shout, “Fire!” in an attempt to draw them apart. The temptation faded, but the anger remained. How dare Miss Johansson treat David’s love with such flippancy? If Dina were in her place . . . her thoughts paused, and she stared over the vicar’s head as dangerous thoughts slipped into her mind.

  David was not an uneducated nineteen-year-old boy trying to find his place in England any longer. He was twenty-five, a man of the world, and, obviously, established enough to marry. He’d completed his education and come into his inheritance of the land that secured his place in English society. Dina was not English, and she could not give him the connections that were important—but were those things as important now as they had been when he was a fledgling in this English world? Were connections through marriage more important than fidelity? Trust? If David knew what was happening between Miss Johansson and Mr. Littlefield, wo
uld he not rethink his choice of bride? If he did reconsider his marriage to Miss Johansson, would Dina come to his thoughts at all? Would he consider Dina if Miss Johansson were no longer a prospect?

  The thoughts burned like venom and she felt like an absolute heathen. Not only to have these thoughts, but to have them in church. What wickedness had possessed her?

  Dina could not see Miss Johansson’s reaction to David’s whispering aside from a slight nod. The envy continued to burn. There had been an afternoon back in London when Dina had been standing with her back to a stand of shrubs at a small garden party Mary had thrown to celebrate Rebecca’s christening. Dina had mostly been on hand to care for the baby, but everyone seemed intent on taking a turn to hold and coo at the infant, so Dina had kept to the edges of conversation so that she was on hand but not in the way. She had nearly jumped out of her skin when David’s voice had suddenly sounded in her ear. “Meet me at the crossed hedges in five minutes.” As quick as he’d been somewhere in the shrubs behind her, he was gone. But five minutes later she’d found him waiting for her at the place where three different hedgerows met up, creating a concealed space, and . . .

  David pulled back from Miss Johansson’s ear and saw Dina watching them. Dina quickly looked at her gloved hands in her lap, and a moment later he was facing forward once more. She had not made a decision of what to do about her suspicions and used the opportunity of being in church to send up a prayer for help in making sense of what was happening while hoping her wicked thoughts would not prevent her ability to know God’s grace on this topic. She felt better after the prayer, a bit more confident that she would know what to do when the right time to do it came about. She also succeeded in pushing away the idea that there was a potential future for David and herself if Miss Johansson were no longer on the stage. His situation was different than it had been six years ago, but she was still a penniless Scotswoman with nothing to offer an accomplished man like David. She could not let fantasy cloud her judgement and still wanted the best for David. She was not the best for him, and she needed to remember that.

  When services finished, Dina hurried to leave the church without appearing to hurry, sharing nods and quick hellos with friends and neighbors rather than longer greetings. She especially did not want to get stuck in conversation with any of the house guests. Once out of the building and down the steps, she told Mary she would walk home.

  Wind whipped at the ribbons of women’s bonnets and the sides of men’s coats, leaving the congregation grasping at their wayward clothing while stubbornly going through the traditional after-service chatter, and Mary cast a concerned look at the gray sky overhead. It would surely rain sometime today, which is why they had brought the covered carriages rather than walking the easy mile as they usually did. Dina would prefer to be caught in a downpour over being forced into the close quarters of a carriage right now with so many people who made her uncomfortable. She needed time alone to think things through.

  “Are you certain that is a good idea?” Mary asked.

  Dina kept a smile in place. “I feel quite restless after sitting on that unyielding pew and feel sure I can beat th’ rain.” She did not wait for further argument and began taking quick steps toward the house. Depending on how long everyone chatted and shared introductions, she might very well arrive home first, which meant she could hide in the nursery for the rest of the day.

  She was some distance past the church yard when she heard someone behind her call her name.

  She turned, holding her bonnet in place so that the wind would not pluck it off her head, pins and all, and felt her chest tighten to see Miss Johansson hurrying to catch up with her. The wind pressed her skirts against her legs, the hem flapping like a tail behind her as she moved forward. Dina looked past her to see who else might be with her, but Miss Johansson seemed to be alone.

  “You are an exceptionally fast walker,” Miss Johansson said between gasping breaths when she reached Dina. She adjusted the ringlets on either side of her face that had gone askew without dropping the smile Dina no longer trusted. “I’ve been trying to catch up almost from the first steps you took away from the church.” She tried to catch her breath.

  “My apologies,” Dina said politely, still holding her bonnet. It was getting colder as the storm moved in. “Can I help you with something, Miss Johansson?”

  Miss Johansson laughed a perfectly bubbly laugh that the wind took and swirled around them both. “You can help by escorting me back to the house,” she said and hooked her arm through Dina’s before taking a step and pulling Dina along beside her. “I love a good walk, don’t you, Miss Cameron?”

  “Um, certainly.” Mostly she enjoyed walking alone. She cast a sideways look at this woman and burned at the idea that those lips had kissed David’s lips. And Mr. Littlefield’s too.

  “It is my favorite aspect of being in the country,” Miss Johansson said as though she and Dina were close friends. “Long walks through beautiful landscapes. I’ve never been to this part of the country; however, it is lovely here.”

  She continued to prattle on for several minutes, and Dina agreed with her opinions when she stopped long enough to invite a response. Dina held herself tightly, hating that she’d lost the time she needed to think of what to do next and feeling disappointed in herself for finding this woman so agreeable when she was so determined not to like her.

  “Where are you from, Miss Johansson?” she asked during one of the young woman’s pauses. She might as well gain something from this interaction, and she did want to know more about this woman. How did she know Mr. Littlefield, for example?

  “Sussex,” she said. “Papa’s principal holding is near Amberley.”

  Principal. That meant that her family owned multiple estates. “I hear that is also a beautiful part of the country.”

  “Have you never been?” Miss Johansson asked.

  Dina shook her head.

  “I suppose it is quite a distance south of here,” Miss Johansson commiserated. A gust of wind pushed the brims of both their bonnets back over their heads, and Miss Johansson had to release Dina’s arm in order to hold it in place. They had both only recovered from the assault when Miss Johansson spoke again. “Have you traveled to other parts of England? I understand you have been with the Jennings for two years now.”

  “I went to Southport with the Jennings last summer.”

  “Is that the only place you have visited?”

  Dina bristled slightly at the pity in Miss Johansson’s voice.

  “And London,” Dina said almost defensively. “Several years ago.”

  “Really? And did you enjoy London?”

  “It had its charms,” Dina said, thinking only of David, though she had enjoyed the parks and shopping too. It had all seemed so modern and sharp compared to Braemar, just an ordinary Scottish village with rough-built structures of necessity and dirt streets. There were no ribbon shops or cobbled pathways in Braemar.

  Miss Johansson laughed, and even though Dina felt tense, she could not hear anything but sincerity in the woman’s tone. As though it was truly interesting to her to hear about Dina’s limited life experience. But why would Miss Johansson be interested in a governess of no consequence? The carriages leaving the church began to rattle past them, and they were forced to move farther to the side of the road, walking on the matted grasses rather than the hard-packed earth of the road.

  “I do not mind London, though I would not like to live there year-round,” Miss Johansson mused. “We keep a house in Town, so I was quite familiar with the city when I had my first season. What took you to London?”

  “I served as a nurse to Rebecca for a few months after she was born. Then returned to Braemar to care for my grandfather and teach at a girls’ school there.”

  “And did you enjoy teaching?”

  “I enjoyed the students.” She kept to herself that she’d been teaching farmer’s children in a dirt-floored schoolroom. An English woman like Miss Johansson wou
ld find that shocking and primitive.

  “You seem to enjoy working with Mary’s children very much.”

  “Indeed,” Dina said, unable to resist the softening that always occurred when she thought of her charges.

  “They are delightful girls,” Miss Johansson said. “Well-mannered and pretty too. You have done well by them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I am curious,” Miss Johansson said as they reached the drive that led to the Jennings’s house and took hold of Dina’s arm again. “Did you see David at all during your time in London? I know you had been playmates as children, but did you renew your acquaintance when you both found yourself in Town?”

  Dina felt a crackling in her chest as the suspicion she’d almost forgotten came back with a punch. She’d meant to get information about Miss Johansson and had somehow become the one facing the questions. She tried to debate her options in regard to formulating an answer but realized that Miss Johansson likely would not have asked if she did not already know the answer. Why she cared about whether David and Dina had reconnected in London made Dina wary. She kept her voice even as she answered. “He came by the house some.”

  “And you continued the friendship you had from childhood?”

  “As much as possible despite our differing circumstances.”

  “Hmmmm.” Miss Johansson seemed to be thinking a great deal on this limited information.

 

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