To Love a Governess

by Josi S. Kilpack

  They walked in silence for several steps as the house came into view around a bend in the drive. The trees on either side kept the wind in check, but Dina felt the first ping of rain on the back of her neck. “Ah, well, we have arrived safely and before the carriage.”

  Miss Johansson looked over her shoulder as though to check for the carriage, then faced forward, a satisfied smile on her face. “David had been certain I could not walk faster than the carriage could drive; he owes me two shillings.”

  Miss Johansson stopped walking, pulling Dina to a stop without releasing Dina’s arm. She turned to face her.

  “David looks at you, you know,” Miss Johansson said, her focus intent on Dina, though her smile remained cheery and casual.

  Dina felt a flush she could not control bloom in her chest and was glad she had a high collar on her dress. She could not think of any response.

  “He is very attentive to you when you are in his company,” Miss Johansson continued.

  Dina’s mouth was dry as she formulated an answer. “I think I remind him of Scotland, and perhaps happy times when his father was alive and he had such freedom.”

  “He has freedom now,” Miss Johansson said, cocking her head to the side as she continued to watch Dina’s face. “He can make any choice he likes, you know.”

  Rather than dance away from the implication, Dina caught it and held it tight. “I’m not sure what you might be implying, Miss Johansson, but I can assure you that David and I, though once close, are merely acquaintances with a shared cousin now. I have not seen him in six years, have not corresponded with him, and pose you no threat.” The words sounded so much harsher said out loud, but she kept her chin up and her gaze focused, intent to nip whatever concern Miss Johansson had in the bud, though she had little grounds to be jealous with her own secrets still hidden away.

  Miss Johansson continued to look at Dina a few seconds longer, then began walking toward the house again, pulling Dina with her. “I really do wish you would come with us tomorrow, Miss Cameron. We are going to visit the abbey and take a picnic. I know you said you have a good deal of personal business to manage on your day off, but could you not spare a few hours? We need more young people to balance out all the more . . . seasoned guests.” She wrinkled her nose at the last.

  Dina shook her head. The idea of watching David and Miss Johansson together for hours felt as inviting as chewing walnut shells, especially after this odd attention Miss Johansson was giving her. But . . . Mr. Littlefield would be there too, which meant she would have the chance to observe him and Miss Johansson. “Is the entire party going?” she asked.

  “My mother is not”—she glanced toward the sky—“and Mr. and Mrs. Havershorn as well as Mr. and Mrs. Donner will be staying behind to play bridge. Everyone one else will be there, however.”

  That meant Mrs. Macarthur, who Dina wished to avoid if possible, would also be present.

  “They’ve already ordered both carriages to be readied, so there’s an extra seat.” Miss Johansson made a pouting face that somehow made her more beautiful. She squeezed Dina’s arm. “Please come, Miss Cameron. It will be so much fun.”

  Dina doubted it would be any fun at all, but it could be an up-close view of the three players in the puzzle she wanted to solve. Needed to solve so that she could think about something—anything—else. What kind of friend would she be if she ignored this chance to shore up her investment in David’s happiness that she had already endured such pain to ensure?

  Rain began to create darkening spots on her pelisse while Miss Johansson continued to look at her with her heart-shaped face full of expectant hope. This was very confusing—her feelings for David, Miss Johansson’s feelings for Mr. Littlefield, David’s feelings for Miss Johansson. But time with all of them was likely the best opportunity available to help her sort it all out.

  “I suppose I could—”

  Her words were cut off by a fierce embrace from Miss Johansson. She pulled back almost immediately, hands on Dina’s shoulders and eyes bright. “Excellent. Tomorrow, then. Be ready by eleven, straight up.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  For Monday’s excursion to the abbey, Dina traded the usual plaiting of her red curls into a knot at the base of her head for a chignon, which softened her face and made her feel less of a governess and more of Mary’s cousin. She chose one of her nicer day dresses, and although the pale green muslin was out of fashion and nothing like what the other ladies would wear, there was classic appeal to the sweetheart neckline and elbow-length sleeves. Years ago, she had embroidered tiny, pale flowers in ivory silk along the bodice that from a distance looked like lace, and last night she’d replaced the ribbon on her straw chip with a length of cream-colored satin from Mary’s ribbon box. She’d been pleased with the effect when she had finished it sometime around midnight. In the morning light, however, it looked like a pathetic attempt by a poor woman in a ridiculous attempt to measure up. She stared at the woman in the mirror who, despite a new hair style and different dress, was still not the type of woman who took outings to abbeys. She was a governess. Everyone else in the party knew it and would either think she was putting on airs or pity her attempts at inclusion with people so far above her.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked her reflection, then stuck out her tongue, grabbed her chip from the bedrail where she’d hung it the night before, and left her bedchamber before she talked herself out of going.

  As she approached the stairs, she heard voices and paused before she would come into view of the guests gathering below. It is only five hours, she told herself. Barely a quarter of a day. The same amount of time it used to take for her to do laundry for her and Grandfather—she’d hated laundry but had done it every week because it had to be done. Five hours was also far less than the amount of time she’d cried in the carriage after leaving London all those years ago.

  She had survived those discomforts, she would survive this one too and hopefully learn something. She felt ready to face the misery when she realized it was not the full party gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Rather, it was only two voices. One male. One female. The female voice was easy to identify—Miss Johansson.

  Dina moved silently forward until she could see the top of a man’s head through the railing—light brown hair. Another step and she could also see the dark curls of Miss Johansson leaned in close to the light-haired man, who must be Mr. Littlefield. Dina could not make out the words being said, but the tones were low and intimate. She felt a lump in her throat and a fizzle of energy in her chest at their sheer arrogance of engaging in a tête-à-tête right here in the open. Did they want to be discovered? She thought again about the questions Miss Johansson had asked on their walk home from church yesterday and wondered if Miss Johansson knew of the dalliance she and David had conducted in London and felt it justification for her own. Could that be behind any of this? Mr. Littlefield was a friend of David’s this last decade, according to Mary. What if he had learned about David and Dina? What if he had used that knowledge to convince Miss Johansson that there was some score to be evened between them? The possibilities did not quite fit, but so many things were not making sense right now.

  Dina moved forward enough to see Miss Johansson’s hand on his arm and take note of how closely they stood.

  “Dina?”

  She spun around and put a hand over her mouth to muffle the gasp she couldn’t stop. David stood before her and smiled that melting smile as her racing heart floated to a regular cadence. He wore a blue coat—her favorite color on him—and buff breaches that emphasized his long, muscular legs. Rather than the willowy build of the typical Englishman, David had inherited his father’s Scotsman build of thicker legs and shoulders that she found far more attractive.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She lowered her hand and remembered the couple at the bottom of the stairs. For a wild moment she considered dragging him forward so that he could see what was taking place, but her motiva
tion for such a shock was too much in question. All she had was suspicion, and if she were wrong . . .

  “G-Good morning, David.”

  He smiled, cluing her in to the fact that she’d called him by his given name.

  “I mean, Mr. Macarthur.”

  He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Mr. Macarthur sounds all wrong on your lips.” He looked at her lips. She felt her cheeks flush, and then his followed suit. This attraction between them muddled her thoughts, confused her ambitions, and made her want more than what she was allowed. An engaged man should not notice her lips at all. Yet she relished it. And felt guilty for that. “I wish that you would call me David all of the time, not only by accident.”

  She shook her head but repeated his name in her mind until it sounded like music: David. Da-vid. Dave-id.

  He let out a dramatic sigh, smiled again, and lifted and dropped his shoulders. “It was worth a try.”

  She couldn’t help but smile back.

  He rocked back on his heels. “I understand you are joining us for the outing. I had thought you hadn’t much interest in the party.”

  “I don’t belong in the party,” she said, fiddling with her gloves—the same ones she wore to church each week. The only ones she owned. “In this moment I am not sure why I agreed to come, truth be told.”

  He quirked a slightly sardonic smile. “I imagine you agreed to come because no one can say no to Fiona Johansson when she sets her mind to something.”

  She met his eye. “And she’s set her mind to including me?”

  He nodded. “She has asked both Mary and I a great deal about you.”

  “She has?”

  Just then Miss Johansson laughed, and David looked past Dina’s shoulder in the direction of the stairs. Mr. Jennings’s voice answered, which allowed Dina to relax; Miss Johansson and Mr. Littlefield were no longer alone. David would not discover them. She would not have to see the hurt in his eyes when he realized what was happening. At least, not yet.

  “I suppose we should join them,” David said, stepping forward and putting out his arm. Dina looked at it, then looked into his face, close now.

  She shook her head and took a step away. “I am a governess here, Mr. Macarthur.” She walked ahead of him.

  He caught up to her at the top of the stairs. “I would offer my arm to any woman,” he said quietly so that only she could hear as they approached the gathering party at the bottom of the stairs.

  Seven faces looked up from the base of the stairs. Six of those faces smiled at them. Dina avoided making eye contact with Mrs. Macarthur, who was not smiling as she watched Dina and David descend, two feet of space between them on the stairs.

  Miss Johansson was at Dina’s side as soon as her foot touched the marble floor of the entry. She took Dina’s arm and gave it a squeeze. “I am delighted you could join us, Miss Cameron.” She turned toward David. “Do you not agree, David? Isn’t it wonderful to have Miss Cameron with us on this outing?”

  “Of course,” David said, walking past them both without more than a glance. Dina wished she were doing laundry after all.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The party stood on the drive while Mary and Mr. Jennings argued—kindly—about how to arrange the carriages. Mary suggested that the men ride in one carriage and the women in the other, but Mr. Jennings pointed out that there had already been a great deal of activities segregated by sex. Miss Johansson suggested three different versions of arrangements in which herself, Dina, and David were all in the same carriage.

  “What if we draw straws?” Dina said when it was all becoming tedious. She looked between David and Mary. “It is how we decided all manner of games as children, do you remember?”

  “I remember,” David said, holding her eyes. “I’ll fetch straw from the barn.”

  Five minutes and eight straws later—four long and four short—each guest drew a piece of straw from David’s hand one at a time. Dina would journey an hour each way with Mr. Dewberry, Mr. Littlefield, and David’s mother. But she wouldn’t have to watch David and Miss Johansson together, so she felt it a fair trade.

  Despite suspecting Mr. Littlefield of being a wolf in sheep’s clothing, he was polite and well-mannered, if not even a tiny bit charming on the journey. Mrs. Macarthur was equally kind, though Dina didn’t trust her either. Mr. Dewberry, however, was enchanting and kept the party entertained with facts Dina found difficult to believe: “Did you know that in the Americas there is a miniature rhinoceros-like creature with a snout instead of a horn that can roll itself into a ball like a pill bug? It is true, I swear it.”

  “Did you know that there has been honey discovered in ancient tombs of the Egyptians that was still edible? It is true, I swear it.”

  By the end of the journey, Mrs. Macarthur and Dina were laughing so hard at his story of trying to cook a meal for his friends when they found themselves at a hunting cabin with no servants that Mr. Littlefield handed each of them a handkerchief, which made them laugh even harder because what man carries two handkerchiefs? Such chivalry could almost make Dina forget that he might be a lecherous git.

  Dina stepped down from the carriage while still attempting to contain her laughter but was able to sober herself only when she looked up to see David and Miss Johansson watching her. She swallowed the last of her mirth and inclined her head in greeting.

  “It seems you had an enjoyable journey,” David said as he moved to help his mother step down from the carriage. She took David’s hand and attempted to explain Mr. Dewberry’s stories but could not communicate the true power of his diversion.

  “I suppose you had to hear it for yourself,” Mrs. Macarthur said, then shared a knowing smile at Dina. “Two handkerchiefs.”

  Dina laughed into her hand and no longer wanted to harbor the weight of their difficulties from all those years ago. A grudge would not serve anyone, least of all herself, and Mrs. Macarthur had been right all those years ago. David could not have loved Dina as a wife and an equal partner. Mrs. Macarthur’s meddling had spared all of them so much pain they’d have felt if they had discovered the truth another way. It was a relief to feel the burden of the offense melt away.

  “As the senior member of this party,” Mrs. Macarthur said when everyone was gathered, “I insist that we return in the same carriages we arrived in.”

  “Here, here,” Mr. Littlefield said, raising an invisible glass in a toast. The warm feelings tempted Dina to let go of her second grudge. Mr. Littlefield had been an amiable traveling companion and made no attempt to find a way to ride in Miss Johansson’s carriage. Would not a lover—even a secret one—want as much time in his beloved’s company as possible?

  “You would leave the rest of us out of such diversion?” Mr. Jennings said with his eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. “What a very self-serving determination, Mrs. Macarthur.”

  “Nevertheless, it has been decided,” Mrs. Macarthur said with a resolute nod. “Miss Cameron agrees with me too, do you not?”

  “Most certainly,” Dina said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before remembering that it was meant to hang by the side of her face. She wished she’d gone with her more familiar style so that she would not need to worry about this one. It felt too loose, but was that only because she was used to something more severe? “And I would not argue with Mrs. Macarthur on this topic for all the pill bug rhinoceroses in America.”

  More laughter from the long-straw carriage ensued until Mr. Jennings ushered them through the broken gates of the abbey. “I can only hope that the informative nature of today’s outing will not be entirely lost on you silly midges. Come along, let us begin.”

  Mr. Jennings knew a great deal about the county and its landmarks. He rolled off facts and stories for nearly an hour before they made their way to a slight rise where the accompanying servants they’d brought with them had set out blankets and shade to accommodate the picnic lunch. The group enjoyed cold chicken sandwiches, strawberries, oat cakes, and wine before Mr. Jennin
gs released them to their own exploration until it was time to leave. Dina was surprised at how enjoyable the day had been and how much the tensions had paled in light of the easy camaraderie. Mr. Jennings had said there was a druid rock circle to the west of the abbey, but the group had chosen not to explore it due to an incline that could not be comfortably navigated by all members of their party.

  Dina had no objection to the exertion for herself, however, and made her way in that direction only to be called back by Miss Johansson when she had just reached the base of the hill. The same irritation she’d felt at Miss Johansson pushing in on her walk home from church yesterday rose up as she turned. Miss Johansson was not alone, however. David gave Dina an apologetic smile as they approached, Miss Johansson’s hand tucked easily around his elbow.

  “Are you looking for the druid circle?” Miss Johansson asked with that look of delight that Dina had come to recognize as her most common expression.

  “It sounded like an interesting exploration,” Dina said, tucking her hair yet again.

  “Might we join you, then?” She smiled adoringly at David. “We were headed in the same direction.”

  Dina did not glance at David as she answered. “Of course.” What else could she say? She brushed the blasted hair out of her face again. She’d removed her bonnet for luncheon and then not known how to replace it without a looking glass. Mary had already wandered off by the time Dina realized she needed assistance, so she’d left the bonnet behind since she would be alone anyway. Her regret at not having time alone was shadowed by remembering why she had come on this outing—to get an up-close view of these people in hopes of determining her direction. With that in mind, there was no reason at all not to be grateful for this time in Miss Johansson’s company.

  “Excellent.”

  Miss Johansson looped her free arm through Dina’s and managed to lead out even though she was the middle of the three. She talked about how delightful the day had been, and wasn’t Dina glad she had come?

  Dina enjoyed her life in the Jennings’s household, adored the girls, and felt deep connection to Mary. She had friends and even socialized in certain company from time to time, but she did not get this kind of recreation very often. A new place, the fresh connection with people like Mr. Dewberry. Part of her wanted to put away her feelings for David and concerns toward Miss Johansson and Mr. Littlefield long enough to truly enjoy it. Another part, however, wanted to make sure she used her time with these people as effectively as possible.