“Mr. Selwood is father?”
“Well, no. He’s not your actual father.” Leastways as far as she knew. “But he is like a father. Some fathers we are born with, and some come along later and become like a father.”
The vicar was probably the closest man to a father Sarah remembered. Hopefully Rose and Mr. Selwood would have a better relationship than vicar to orphan. Rose loved Mr. Selwood, but Mr. Selwood had still not warmed up to Rose. Every time Rose approached, he backed away like a hare from a fox.
“Father,” Rose said, holding up the block. “F.”
“That’s right.” The girl was very bright.
Rose stacked the block and reached for another. She looked at it, then handed it to Sarah.
“G.”
There was a knock at the door, and Mr. Walker appeared. “The master’s asking for ye, miss. For you and the little miss to come to the drawing room. Some guests are here that want to meet the little one.”
Sarah had not heard the front door nor any sound of life in the house beyond Rose.
“Who on earth would be asking for us?” But Mr. Walker had already left. “Well, then, Rose. Shall we go see Mr. Selwood?”
Rose jumped up. “See Mr. Selwood!” She pulled Sarah’s hand, tugging her to her feet and out the door.
As they neared the drawing room, Sarah heard a female voice. One that was a few pitches above shrill. Miss Lynn. And, more than likely, also her mother.
Sarah groaned. Of all the people she did not want to see again, Miss Lynn was second on the list. Why, exactly, she could not say. Maybe it was the way she’d forced herself into the house that day. Or the way her voice reached notes not even an opera soprano could manage. Or maybe it was the way she looked at Mr. Selwood like he was some kind of delectable confection. But Rose was tugging at her, anxious to get into the room.
Mr. Walker opened the door for them and announced, “Miss Basingstoke and Miss Woolsey.” As if Sarah was anyone worth announcing.
When Rose saw the other ladies, she hid behind Sarah with only her big round eyes peeking out.
Sarah gave the women a little curtsey and then stood there, unsure why she was suddenly on display. No one spoke, and it had been so ingrained into Sarah that she must not speak unless spoken to that she finally had to give Mr. Selwood an urging glance.
“Miss Lynn, Mrs. Lynn, this is my ward and her governess.”
As far as introductions went, it was hardly helpful. He’d not even given their names. Perhaps he thought Mr. Walker had already covered it. And unless the Lynn ladies were utter idiots, he was probably right.
“Come on out and say how d’ye do, Rose.” Sarah tugged Rose in front of her.
“How you do,” whispered Rose.
Mr. Selwood grinned, and that was all Rose needed. She abandoned Sarah and ran over to him. He edged as far from her as the sofa would allow.
Rose gazed up at him and said, “Father.”
There was one full instant of absolute silence. Then Miss Lynn’s tea splashed onto her pristine white muslin. Her dress was ruined, but it didn’t appear she’d noticed. Mr. Selwood seemed about ready to make another dash into his library. And the Mrs. Lynn started fishing around in her reticule, presumably for a hangman’s rope.
“Uh, we’ve been studying the alphabet,” Sarah said. “We just finished the letter F. She’s showing Mr. Selwood what she learned. Isn’t that right, Rose?”
Rose looked over at her.
“F is for . . .” Sarah prompted.
“Father.”
“And . . .”
“Family.” Rose smiled brightly at Mr. Selwood.
Fish. Fire. Fox. Any word would have been better.
“Oh,” Miss Lynn said, her voice like a screeching cat. “How nice.”
“Well done,” Mr. Selwood said to Rose as he stood to move farther away.
Rose followed him, her eyes gleaming like brown crystals as she smiled at him.
“Miss Woolsey,” said Mrs. Lynn, her voice cracking. “I understand you are highly educated, yet you worked as a housemaid.”
Sarah glanced at Mr. Selwood. He gave her a nod of encouragement.
“Yes, ma’am. I was at Harleigh’s School for Girls for nine years. I was top of my class, if I might say so myself.” That was something she’d not even told Mr. Selwood. She didn’t want to boast, but the Lynns were eyeing her like she was a piece of potato peel that needed throwing in the scrap bin.
“And your parents?”
“Both of them died when I was very young.”
“So you are an orphan?” The old woman opened her fan and waved it in front of her face to clear the odor of Sarah’s undesirable lineage.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You have no family at all?”
“No, ma’am.” Sarah smoothed out the front of her apron. She probably should have tidied herself up before coming to the drawing room. That might have helped her cause at least a little.
Rose stomped over, her little face screwed up in a scowl. “F. Family.” She pointed to Sarah, then to herself, then over at Mr. Selwood. “Sometimes family is all sorts of people.”
Sarah laughed out loud at the way the child had repeated her words. Clearly Rose was as fond of the Lynns as Sarah was. Rose may not have understood all that was going on in the drawing room, but she was smart enough to catch on to the Lynn’s distaste. And she’d marched on over to defend her governess. Sarah wanted to hug her.
Mr. Selwood had found safety behind the sofa. He stood there with his eyes going back and forth between Sarah and Rose with a look Sarah could not read.
Mrs. Lynn snapped her fan closed. “Family is fortune and connections. Without that, a person is nothing. I do not understand, Mr. Selwood, why you have created an assembly of orphans in your home. Your parents would not approve.”
Mr. Selwood opened his mouth to speak, but Mrs. Lynn cut him off.
“It is highly unseemly for a bachelor living alone to hire a governess, even if she is nothing more than a housemaid. You would do better sending the child to boarding school. And as for the housemaid—”
“You need not worry about me,” Sarah said. Anything to stop this awful tirade in front of Rose. She covered Rose’s ears and whispered, “I will be leaving this house by the end of the week anyway.”
Miss Lynn’s shoulders relaxed, and a wistful smile crossed her face. “That is indeed good news. We know many good schools, do we not, Mother?”
Mrs. Lynn nodded stately. “Indeed, we know the best of the best. I will have a footman bring a list of places I think will make a suitable match for the child. All of which would be far superior to a housemaid.” The two ladies snorted in unison.
Mr. Selwood left the cover of the sofa and placed himself in front of Sarah and Rose. “Enough,” he said to the lady Lynns. “I will decide what and who is suitable in my own home. Miss Woolsey is the most capable governess I’ve ever seen, and none other could be better for this child. You have shown me exactly why a housemaid was the correct choice. I appreciate your concern, but allow me to inform you your advice is neither wanted nor will it be heeded. Thank you for calling, Miss Lynn, Mrs. Lynn, but let me assure you if you come again, I will most certainly not be at home.”
Both of the ladies’ mouths fell open. Sarah’s did too, for that matter. She could scarcely believe her ears. No one, not ever, had spoken so highly of her before. Even the loathsome Charlie Crump, who had flattered and wooed her, had never said anything so sincere. She wanted to hug Mr. Selwood. Instead, her arms circled around Rose and pulled her close.
Mrs. and Miss Lynn stood up. They did not say another word but simply left, their exit as graceful as all their movements in spite of the vortex of vexation spinning round them.
Mr. Selwood, like Sarah and Rose, stood frozen until the front door closed. Then he turned around and faced her.
“I’m sorry, Miss Woolsey, that you had to endure such suffering at their hands. You do not deserve it.”
“And I’m sorry if I caused you embarrassment.” Mr. Selwood did not deserve to be ridiculed because of her and her lack of connections and family. “I didn’t realize when Mr. Walker called Rose and me down that it would be the ladies. I didn’t even take off my apron. Not that the dress underneath is anything to be proud of, but still I could have made myself a little less awful to meet them, and Rose too. I should have combed her hair and repinned it. It’s so fine that no matter what I do, it comes out again in two seconds. But she was so excited to see you, she ran off before I could even think it through properly. I do apologize.”
“Miss Woolsey,” he said, “Miss Lynn wouldn’t give two straws about a governess if you weren’t as lovely as you are. And let me add that of all the people in the world whose opinion matters to me, Mrs. and Miss Lynn are among the lowest.”
That must be fairly low. But still, they were his neighbors and peers. What would society think of him once they spread word of how he’d treated them? Not that Sarah minded, to be sure.
Rose reached out and took Mr. Selwood’s hand. “F,” she said. “Family.”
“Family,” he repeated quietly. Then he pulled his hand away and left, the floorboards creaking along toward the library.
It was when the library door clicked shut that his words finally settled on her. Lovely, he had called her.
Chapter Nine
Lovely. The word had been tumbling in her mind the rest of the day. She left Rose sleeping in her bed and made her way to the library and knocked.
“Yes,” Mr. Selwood called out.
She opened the door and peeked in.
“Miss Woolsey.” He stood up. “I was expecting my steward to come with the new groom.” Bessie’s information had been accurate. After the cockfighting incident, the old groom had been promptly dismissed. “Please come in.”
She crossed over to his desk. “I . . .” She’d not prepared an excuse, and a team of oxen couldn’t drag the truth from her: that she simply wanted to see him. “I wondered if you’ve found a new governess. The month is nearly up.”
He frowned. “I have not been able to find anyone suitable. I was not exaggerating when I said you are the best. I don’t think the child will be happy with anyone else.”
“But, sir, I cannot stay here.” Even as she spoke, a lump formed in her throat. How would she ever have the courage to say goodbye? “I am going to America.”
He walked around the desk and to the window, looking out over the lawn. It seemed either the glazing or the gardens were needed for him to speak freely. “What is in America that you cannot have here?”
Safety. Distance. The knowledge that Rose’s life would not be in danger because of her lack.
“Is it a man?”
“What?” Had he already heard rumors about her great humiliation? She’d been the laughingstock of Millthrop. Such a grand joke must have spread quickly.
He kept his eyes out on the gardens. A lark called out and was answered by the formerly absent wood pigeon. A low and melancholy woohoo. An echo exactly to the feelings of her heart.
“Is there a man in America?” he asked.
“No. Of course not. There is not a man. I have no man.” That sounded ridiculous, but she felt an urgent need that Mr. Selwood understand she did not belong to any man. “I am not looking for a man. I do not trust them. I cannot. No. There is no man.”
He was watching her now, the garden and the trees and the pigeon forgotten. “I wish you would stay. I’m not sure the child will survive your leaving.”
“But, sir, I am not a governess. I am nothing. I am a joke in everything I do. I cannot milk a cow. I cannot clean properly. I cannot be invisible. I cannot keep Rose safe. I cannot even be presentable.”
“I don’t want you to be invisible.” He took a step toward her but then quickly backed away. “I do not think the child will be fine if you leave.”
“Rose. Her name is Rose. Say it.”
His mouth pulled up in a half smile. “Rose. See? What other governess with all the invisibility of the world would speak to me so? We need you here.”
“We?” Did he mean Rose and . . . himself?
“The child. Rose.” He turned his head back to the window.
Rose had given Sarah purpose. For once she was important in another person’s life, even if it was a small child. Rose had put her trust, her love, in Sarah, and no matter how unfit for the job Sarah was, Mr. Selwood was probably right. Rose would not take her leaving well.
But if he wanted her to stay, he’d better be prepared to give her some answers.
“Is she your child?” Sarah asked.
“No. Upon my honor she is not.”
“Then whose child is she? And how did she come here?” She withdrew the handkerchief and held it out. “This was buried in her carpetbag. It is clearly marked with the Selwood crest.”
Mr. Selwood stood quietly for a few moments. Then he crossed to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a letter. It was the letter pinned to Rose’s frock on the day she’d arrived. He gave it to her.
Sarah unfolded the letter and read.
Mr. Selwood,
I found this here child living in a closet. Her mother, may she rest in peace, is died from alcohol and consumpshun. I heard her brag a few times about how she had a secrit father, a Mr. Selwood in Haycock, but that he weren’t willing to acknowlege her. That would make this girl your grand daughter. She were rarely sober, so I never knew what was the truth.
Whatever be the case, I’m sending her on to you. She’s at deaths door already and there’s no one here what can look after her. I believe her name is Rosalina Basingstoke, but why she give her girl such a made up name I’ll never know. Specially since she locked the poor thing in the closet for days on end while she were out soshalising with the men, if you know what I mean.
The landlord’s ready to hand her over to the workhouse, but I figyure if there be a respectible place what will take her in, all the better. Iffin you don’t want her, I can’t take her back.
Signed,
M
Sarah sank down into a chair and read it again. Whatever Sarah had imagined from Rose’s past, it was not this. This was unimaginable.
No wonder Rose never spoke about her life before. No wonder she wanted to call Sarah her mother. Even though Sarah’s negligence had nearly led to Rose’s death from the nettles, at least that had been an accident. What woman in her right mind could shut her own child in a closest and starve her?
Obviously her mother was not in her right mind. Alcohol and consumption, the letter had said. Sarah could not comprehend how Rose had survived. Though Sarah had grown up an orphan, her hardships had been nothing compared to Rose’s. She couldn’t possibly leave her now.
“Why did you not show me this before?”
He ran a hand across his face. “Because I thought the burden would be too much for you. And I thought the child deserved a clean start. And I didn’t know you then as I do now. I worried you would form a judgment about her. And me—or at least my father. This letter is obviously meant for my father. Whoever wrote it—that is to say, whoever was accusing my father of fathering an illegitimate child did not know he died many years ago.”
Sarah had no answer for him. She knew nothing about the elder Mr. Selwood.
“It is, of course, untrue. Or at least highly unlikely. First of all, my father was an extremely devoted husband. And secondly, up until my younger brother was born, we lived on the continent for my mother’s health. Shortly after returning to England, my father had a riding accident and, well . . .” Mr. Selwood’s face flushed, and he turned away. “Afterwards he was incapable.
“I don’t know how the child’s mother came to possess this”—he brandished the handkerchief—“but I find it more likely a point of imposture rather than truth. I suppose, however, there is no way to prove it.”
“But you took her in anyway? Even though you believe there is no relation to you at all? I mean, of course
I want to hug you for it, but I’m trying to understand why.”
He pointed to the letter. “How could I not? It doesn’t matter where she came from, she deserves something better. What kind of man would I be if I had turned her away?”
Sarah stood and faced him. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure out what kind of man you are ever since I came here. You throw your things about as if you haven’t a care in the world, yet you take in an unwanted child and give her a home and education. You do not like children, yet you carried her up to her room and called the doctor for her. You are terrified of nettles, yet you walked right into them to save her, even though your fear got the better of you.”
“I’m not afraid of nettles,” he said.
“What?”
“I’m not afraid of nettles.”
“Then what happened that day in the garden?” Why would he go after her if he could not complete the task? She’d seen the fear in his eyes. Something had frozen him. Something that terrified him.
“Why must you get to America?” he asked.
Of all the times to bring this up. “It is not something of your concern.”
“You see, Miss Woolsey. We all have secrets we’d rather not tell.”
She sat back down. He was right. She had things in her past she didn’t want to share; it seemed only right that he did as well. And if she wasn’t willing to open up about them, it would hardly be fair to press him about his.
Besides, this was not about Sarah or Mr. Selwood. This was about Rose.
“You have played your cards well, Mr. Selwood. I cannot abandon Rose after this.” She gave the letter back to him. “I will stay, at least a little while longer.”
Mr. Selwood smiled bigger than she’d ever seen him do before. “Thank you. Now I am the one wanting to hug you.” Then his face flushed red. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to be untoward. I just meant that I am very grateful you will stay.”
There was a knock on the door. Mr. Walker entered the library and said, “Mr. Thayne is here, sir, with the new groom, Mr. Crump.”
To Love a Governess Page 22
