Читать книгу The Tempting Of The Governess - Julia Justiss - Страница 12

Slightly more than a week later, as the evening shadows blurred the view from her coach window, Olivia craned her neck to catch a glimpse of her new employer’s residence. ‘Somers Abbey’, she’d read on the note of introduction the agency had given her—and the pile of grey stone she could just perceive in the hazy distance certainly looked the part of a medieval manor wrenched from the grip of a religious community by a greedy monarch.

She had to shiver, just looking at it. Not a very welcoming appearance. Perhaps the two orphaned girls she had been sent to care for found it a place of wonders, with priest’s holes to hide in and long, rambling corridors to run through.

She’d never been around children much. Stirring uneasily, she hoped they would get along.

As the carriage drew to a halt, she tried to subdue the nervous foreboding in the pit of her belly. She was no shrinking young miss, but a well-educated, intelligent, competent young woman who had managed her mother’s household for years. She could handle a nursery and two little girls.

Besides, she had insisted the employment contract run for only six months. She could bear anything for six months. Although she would then return to London, as she’d promised Sara again when they exchanged their final tearful goodbyes, she didn’t expect anything would happen to change her circumstances. She would still be on her own, forced to find a new position to earn her bread.

And earning about as much as, in her former life, she would have spent on a ball gown without thinking twice about it.

But reflecting on that would do no more good than giving in to her distress over leaving her home and the last close friend she had in the world. There was no possibility of going back; she could only move forward.

The hired carriage halted before the entrance. Marshalling all her resolve, she descended from the vehicle.

Her knock was answered by an elderly butler, whose livery looked as shabby as the worn carpet in the entry hall. ‘Miss Overton, I presume?’

‘Yes. Would you announce me to the Colonel? I should like to present my credentials before he takes me to meet the children.’

‘This way, Miss Overton. I’ll have your trunk conveyed to your room.’

Wondering where she would be received—probably in an office or study, not in the parlour reserved for guests, certainly—she followed the man down the hallway and into what looked to be an older section of the house, all stone walls and dark wood panelling.

He stopped before an ancient, solid oak door. After struggling to open it, he intoned, ‘Miss Overton, Colonel.’

Ruthlessly quelling her nervousness, Olivia walked in to meet her new employer, who rose as she entered.

Encouraged by that gesture of respect—as he was receiving a mere employee, not a lady of the ton, he might well have retained his seat—she looked up at him squarely.

Tall and ash blond, with a rigidly upright bearing that proclaimed his military background, the Colonel cut an impressive figure—and was much younger than she’d expected. Having learned her employer had served his military career in India, she assumed he’d returned to England to retire. Though weariness lined his sunburned face, the man before her was in his middle thirties, at most.

Belatedly realising that she had been staring, Olivia pulled herself together. ‘Good evening, Colonel,’ she said, dropping him a curtsy.

‘Miss Overton,’ he acknowledged her with an incline of his head. ‘Won’t you take a seat? That will be all, Mansfield.’

Initially taken aback, she squelched the reaction, reminding herself she had been ushered into this man’s presence merely to have her credentials examined and be given whatever instruction he deemed necessary prior to taking up her work. She shouldn’t expect to be entertained or offered refreshment.

Yet the stark contrast with the warm hospitality she’d been offered upon her arrival at every other stately house she’d ever visited brought her close to tears.

You will accustom yourself. You must. And you’re not going to turn weak and faint-hearted at the very first hurdle.

Willing herself to calm, she walked over and handed him the documents the hiring agency had made up for her, then took the chair he indicated in front of his desk. ‘These should confirm what the agency already informed you about my background.’

Scanning the papers, he nodded. ‘Yes, I see that you were well educated at a private ladies’ academy. You are capable of teaching English, literature, mathematics, geography, French, Italian, music and proper deportment? I see also that you have excellent references from several titled ladies.’

Who were once my mentors and friends.

‘Yes.’

He nodded. ‘That sounds suitable, though I can’t claim to know anything about what young ladies should be taught. How much did the agency tell you about your charges’ circumstances?’

‘Just their ages, the fact that they had recently been orphaned and that their new guardian, a military gentleman who served in India, had requested a superior candidate be sent to Somers Abbey with utmost dispatch.’

The Colonel sighed. ‘The reality is slightly more complicated. About six months ago, my cousin, who owns—owned—an estate at St Kitts in the Caribbean, wrote asking that I act as guardian to his daughters. My cousin being a young man, I had no expectation of actually having to take up that charge. Even after learning of his unexpected death, I assumed I would be required to do nothing more than manage their inheritance. Instead, with neither my knowledge nor my consent, my cousin’s second wife sent the girls to England. They arrived here unannounced about a week ago.’

Olivia stared. ‘You had no idea they were coming?’

‘None, else I would have made other arrangements. I fear, in its present condition, Somers Abbey could hardly be less suitable as a home to shelter and raise two little girls. The estate I inherited from my elder brother had been...neglected, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed. In the eighteen months since returning from India, I have been doing everything I can to restore it to proper condition, which requires long hours of work and has forced economies that required me to reduce the staff to a bare minimum. I have neither wife nor mother to undertake their guidance and my household staff includes exactly four females—the cook, the housekeeper, a tweeny and one maid-of-all-work.’

‘Which explains your haste to hire a governess,’ Olivia said.

After giving her a sharp look—perhaps he didn’t expect a mere employee to interrupt his explanation with a comment?—he continued, ‘Unfortunately, I have no close female kin to whom I could send the girls, which is why they are still at Somers Abbey. I am in the process of making further enquiries, in hopes of finding them a more suitable situation. I tell you all this so you may understand that, although you were hired for a six-month period, it’s quite possible the term of your employment will be much shorter. After agreeing to journey here in such haste, you will, of course, be compensated for the full six months, whether or not whoever takes over the supervision of the children decides to retain you as their governess.’

She might be free—before the end of six months. Free to return to London with the whole of her pittance in her pocket!

Where, of course, she would simply have to secure a new position.

‘So I am to do my best for them until some genteel lady agrees to supervise their care. I suppose I shall also work with the maid or nurse who accompanied them from the Caribbean.’

‘They were not sent with a maid or nurse.’

Surprised, she said, ‘Who cared for them during their long journey?’

‘A couple returning to England—whom they had not previously met before the journey began.’

Olivia angled her head at him, frowning. ‘They travelled all alone across the ocean without a single companion they knew? Those poor little mites! They must have been terrified! Surely they had a nurse at home. Why was she not sent—?’

As the Colonel raised his eyebrows, Olivia realised that, once again, she was questioning her employer as an equal, rather than merely listening, as befitted an employee. With difficulty, she pressed her lips together and went silent.

‘A good question to which I doubt there is a charitable answer,’ he said drily. ‘You are...rather outspoken, are you not? The governesses I encountered in India all seemed to be meek, retiring creatures who barely had a word to say for themselves.’

‘I’m afraid I’m not at all retiring, Colonel. I ran my mother’s household until...until her recent demise and am quite used to being in charge.’

A glimmer of a smile flickered on his lips and lit his eyes before his expression turned sombre again. Unexpected—and unexpectedly engaging—that tiny spark of warmth raised her flagging spirits, like a candle illumining a dark room.

Even solemn, with a thin, care-worn face, she had to allow the Colonel was attractive. An aura of command surrounded him, subtly proclaiming this was a man used to making decisions, acting upon them and expecting others to obey. He had none of the charm or charisma of her friend Emma’s handsome husband, Lord Theo, but his air of competence and absolute dependability was unexpectedly appealing.

And she had no business finding her new employer attractive or appealing. While she was reminding herself of this fact, he said, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

Her throat gone suddenly tight, she merely nodded. His comment was too sharp of a reminder of just how much she had lost—not only her mother, but her home, position, friends and the future she’d always expected would be hers.

He stood, signifying the interview was over. ‘I shall appreciate any help you can give in making the children feel more at ease during their stay at Somers Abbey. Mansfield will take you to meet Mrs Wallace, the housekeeper, who will see that you have dinner and show you to your room.’

‘Are you not going to take me to meet the children?’

‘Mrs Wallace will do so, if they are still awake after you’ve dined.’

Finding that odd, Olivia said, ‘Are they not brought down to visit you in the evenings, after you return from working on the estate?’

‘No. I often don’t return until well after dark. Mrs Wallace believes children do better if they are kept on a regular, dependable schedule. As I am almost a total stranger to them, there really is no need for them to see me.’

‘But you said you were their last remaining relative...’

The quelling look the Colonel gave her had her words trailing off. Though there was a good deal more she’d like to know on the subject, she stifled the questions. She’d meet her charges, coax out their feelings on the matter, then decide whether or not to bring it up again with their guardian.

She might now be an employee, but she was never going to be meek or retiring.

The Colonel was a military man, used to the company of rough soldiers and adventuresome officers. Like many men, he was probably not accustomed to dealing with children, especially young and female ones.

However, as she knew only too painfully, coping with the loss of your entire world was frightening and devastating—and she was an adult. Being the sole remaining relative of two small girls who had recently lost theirs, he should be making a greater effort to help them adjust.

A few minutes later, Mansfield arrived to conduct her to her room.

It appeared the main part of the manor was medieval, to which several additions had been added. She followed the old man around a maze of twisting corridors and up a flight of stairs, down a draughty hallway to what looked like a wing of bedchambers. At least she was to be given a proper room, rather than a garret in the attics.

The room itself was large but spartan, containing only a bed, a single dresser with a washbowl on it, and a wardrobe. Perhaps it was the approaching shadows playing over the few pieces of furniture in a room that had obviously once contained many more that gave it such a bleak air, but it was also dusty, she noted in disapproval. Since the household obviously knew of her arrival, that didn’t give her a very high opinion of the housekeeper.

A knock at the door was followed by the entrance of a kitchen maid bearing a tray, which she set on the single side table beside the bed. She was followed by a tall, thin, dark-haired woman in a lace cap with a chain of keys hanging about her neck. ‘Your supper, Miss Overton,’ the woman said, giving her a slight curtsy, to which Olivia responded in kind. ‘I am Mrs Wallace, the housekeeper.’

As if the keys worn on a chain hanging about her neck didn’t identify her quite clearly, Olivia thought. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Wallace. Will I also meet my new charges this evening?’

‘No, the Misses Glendenning have already retired. Their nursery is further down this corridor. Mary, here, will show you to it after she brings up your breakfast in the morning. Goodnight, Miss Overton.’

That was it? No welcome, no ‘let me know if you need anything’? Olivia swallowed hard. Yet another reminder that she was no longer a guest to be accommodated, but simply another employee.

‘Goodnight, Mrs Wallace, Mary.’ She smiled at the maid who, apparently startled by her notice, smiled back—before she caught the sharp eye of the housekeeper fixed on her, dropped a quick curtsy and scurried out.

Lighting a candle—fortunately, the derelict house seemed to at least provide candles—against the gathering gloom, Olivia shivered as she sat on the bed. The stone walls seemed as chilly as her greeting.

She hoped the poor children’s room was more inviting. In any event, this house needed a large infusion of light and cheer, and beginning tomorrow, she was going to provide it—regardless of what her distant employer and his stiff-necked housekeeper might want.

She could use some cheer herself. As the weariness of long travel loosened the tight grip with which she’d been containing all the devastation of loss, grief and fear for the future bottled up within her, she felt tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. Alone, with no one to witness her breakdown, she wrapped her arms around her pillow and wept.

Some time in the night, as she huddled in her bed, counterpane pulled up over her head for warmth, Olivia woke with a start, conscious of a sense of alarm. What had roused her from a deep, exhausted sleep?

Pulling the covering from over her head, she heard it again—a soft, distant, mournful noise that sounded almost like—weeping.

The hairs rose on the back of her neck. Did this near-empty house contain—ghosts?

Given its gloom, she wouldn’t be surprised if the manor’s halls were trod late at night by wraiths of the unfortunate monks who’d been murdered during its seizure. However, as she told herself stoutly that supernatural spirits were only a myth, the sound continued.

Might it be coming...from the nursery?

After lighting a candle and throwing on her thick dressing gown, Olivia walked out of her chamber into the hallway, where the sound grew louder. She followed its increasing volume down the hallway, to halt before a closed door, which must be the nursery. Because she was certain what she heard was the sound of a small child crying.

After rapping on the door, she walked into the night-dark room, where the wavering light from her candle fell over two small girls. The larger one had her arms wrapped around a smaller one, who was weeping piteously.

At her entrance, the sobbing stopped abruptly and both children froze. Then the older girl released her sister and jumped from the bed to stand protectively in front of her. ‘It was me crying! Don’t beat Sophie!’

Taken aback, Olivia said, ‘Beat her? Why on earth would I beat her?’

‘Because she woke you up. Mrs Wallace says we are never to disturb anyone at night, because she doesn’t have enough servants to take care of this big house and they need their sleep. Most ’specially, we are not to disturb the master.’

‘And she has you beaten if you do wake someone up?’

‘Yes. But Sophie is so cold, she can’t help crying.’ Her own lip quivering, the girl added with an almost desperate defiance, ‘We’re both s-so cold.’

‘Don’t be afraid. I have no intention of striking you,’ Olivia said, walking nearer. Frowning, she inspected the large room, which contained only two small beds side by side, a dresser, and a wardrobe, with a large open area that must serve as a schoolroom. Much like hers, it, too, was more sparsely furnished than its size warranted.

‘I’m Miss Overton, your new governess,’ she continued as she reached the girls. ‘You must be—Elizabeth...’ she motioned to the bigger girl ‘...and Sophie?’

The standing sister curtsied. ‘Yes, ma’am. We’re sorry we woke you up. So...you aren’t going to beat us?’

‘Certainly not.’ Her frown deepening, Olivia fingered the thin cotton blanket on the bed. It might be June, with full summer nearly upon them, but the stone abbey walls held in the chill like an ice cellar. The girls, too, wore only thin cotton nightgowns.

‘Goodness, no wonder you are frozen. Come here, both of you!’

Untying her robe, she sat on the bed. Pulling the girls into her arms, she settled one on each side of her and wrapped the thick garment around all of them.

It didn’t quite meet in the middle, but the girls were small enough that she was able to almost completely cover them as they clung to her, their need for warmth obviously stronger than their fear of being so close to a stranger.

‘Haven’t you told Mrs Wallace that you are cold at night?’

‘Oh, yes, ma’am,’ Elizabeth said. ‘The very first night, when Sophie woke up crying. But she said we were in England now and we would have to get used to it.’

‘Used to it? You grew up on an island where it is warm all the time, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Snuggling closer, the little girl said, ‘It was always sunny, too! It’s so dark here and it rains so much.’

‘I’ve never been to your homeland, but I’ve read that it’s beautiful. Full of exotic birds and trees and beautiful flowers. After we get you warmed up, you must go back to sleep. Then tomorrow, when we get acquainted, you must tell me all about it. Now, let’s see if I can find you more blankets.’

Shrugging off her robe to leave it around them, she padded to the chest, shivering in her thin linen night rail. She looked through all the drawers, which contained only an array of lightweight, cotton clothing. She went then to the wardrobe, but it stood empty.

She had no idea where the household linens might be kept and certainly didn’t intend to rummage about the dark to try to find them. Still—she couldn’t leave the girls with nothing but that worn excuse of a blanket to cover them.

Walking back to the bed, she pulled her robe from around the girls and donned it before urging them to their feet and enfolding them against her again. ‘You shall just have to spend the rest of the night in my chamber. We’ll find you adequate blankets tomorrow, when I can talk with Mrs Wallace.’

Sighing, the younger girl pressed closer. But Elizabeth piped up, ‘Mrs Wallace won’t like that. She says everything must be in its proper place. We aren’t allowed to move things, or touch things, or go into any of the other rooms besides the nursery.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll deal with Mrs Wallace.’

If the housekeeper were such a fanatic about order, she’d do a better job of dusting, Olivia thought. Being short-staffed was no excuse for slovenliness.

She ushered the girls down the hall and into her room, then helped them climb up on the big bed. Moving them to the middle, where she could be reasonably sure they wouldn’t roll off in the night, she settled the thick counterpane around them and hopped into bed herself.

She smiled as she noted that Elizabeth had arranged herself protectively on the far side of her sister, giving Sophie the warmer place next to Olivia. What a brave little champion she was.

‘Go to sleep now, girls,’ she said, blowing out the candle.

‘Thank you, Miss Overton,’ Elizabeth whispered into the dark.

‘You are very welcome, sweetheart. Sleep well.’

As soon as she settled herself on the pillow, the four-year-old Sophie snuggled close to her warmth.

As she tried to recapture sleep, the unfamiliar presence of two little girls at her back, Olivia thought that perhaps she had been meant to come to Somers Abbey. She was no longer in a position to write to Members of Parliament about the great political and social causes of the day. But reduced as her circumstances had become, she could still help two small beings who were even more lost and alone than she was.

A wave of compassion displaced, for a moment, her simmering anger. After this incident, she was even less impressed with the housekeeper who ran Somers Abbey—and its deliberately distant master.

Both were going to get a piece of her mind in the morning.