Читать книгу A Very Unusual Governess - Sylvia Andrew - Страница 11

At the end of her interview with Mr Barraclough Octavia fervently hoped that Lady Dorney had been sincere in what she had said. She wasn’t sure whether she had succumbed to the force of Mr Barraclough’s powerful personality, or to the equally powerful force of this strange house. But to her bewilderment she found she had agreed to come back in four days’ time, complete with suitable references, to take up duties as a governess companion to the Barraclough girls. The ‘ogre’ had proved to be more accommodating than she would have imagined—or perhaps more desperate. After she had explained that she would like to keep an eye on an elderly relative who lived some distance away, she was promised two days a month, together with the use of the gig.

However, Mr Barraclough had made it all too clear that he was still not convinced that she could manage. This poor opinion of her abilities so annoyed Octavia that, as she took her leave of the Barracloughs, she swore to herself that she would prove him wrong if it was the last thing she did!

She refused the girls’ offers to accompany her down the drive, and set off in good time to be at the gate when Will Gifford came to pick her up. Having committed herself to a totally mad impersonation, she wanted to make sure it was carried through without any hitches, and Will and the gig were a potential giveaway. Most chance-met governesses did not leave in a well-cared-for gig with a groom who treated them with the deferential familiarity of an old servant!

Perhaps ‘impersonation’ was not the word—escapade was more like it. After all, she was not impersonating anyone else, and she had given Mr Barraclough her real name, if not her proper title. And though she had never sought employment of any kind, she was fully competent to look after two girls for two months, whatever their uncle thought. She would earn the very generous salary he had promised her…

But she still couldn’t understand why on earth she had agreed to do it! The house must have bewitched her. She stopped, turned and looked at it again. Wychford was once again sparkling and smiling in the sunlight. Perhaps there was more to the stories about the house than she had realised? Perhaps Aunt Carstairs had been the witch she and Harry had thought her! Why had she left her house to Octavia? Had she seen her goddaughter’s restlessness, yet understood Octavia’s reluctance to marry simply to escape from Ashcombe? It was possible.

But even the Witch of Wychford couldn’t have foreseen the Barracloughs and their problem. Or…could she?

As Octavia walked on down the drive she was thinking of the last time she had seen Aunt Carstairs. They had said their farewells and the footmen were waiting to assist the old lady into her carriage. But just before she got in her aunt had turned round to take Octavia’s hand and say, ‘Be patient, child. Rescue is at hand.’ Then, as the carriage prepared to drive off, she had put her head out of the window and added with a crow of laughter, ‘There’s even a hero in prospect, though you’ll take time to recognise him.’

Octavia was turning these words over in her mind now as she drew near the gates of Wychford. A hero? Not among the Barracloughs, that was certain! Edward Barraclough was not only already married, he was the opposite of all her ideals. Dark, abrupt, discourteous, and not much gaiety about him…Anyone less like Tom Payne would be difficult to imagine! No blond prince among the Barracloughs, then. So where? Perhaps one of the local neighbours had a son…But how could she meet him if she was an employee, a governess at Wychford? Octavia gave a sigh. Surely Aunt Carstairs could have managed better than this! But as Will Gifford drove up she laughed out loud. She was beginning to believe her own nonsense!

Octavia got back to Ashcombe in daylight and, wasting no time before setting her plans in motion, invited Lady Dorney to have tea with her in private. ‘It’s an age since I saw Papa so happy, ma’am,’ she began as they sat down in her parlour. ‘You are so good for him.’

Lady Dorney looked at her with amusement. ‘I’m glad to hear that. But I believe I know you too well to think it an idle remark,’ she murmured. ‘Tell me, what plans are you hatching in that pretty head of yours? I don’t believe you invited me here just to pay me compliments. Incidentally, you, too, look happier—excited even. What happened today?’

Octavia hesitated, then launched into an account of her adventures. When she reached the point where Edward Barraclough said that she wasn’t the featherhead he had thought, Lady Dorney was so amused that she nearly dropped her cup.

‘So when did you tell him that, far from being an indigent governess in search of a post, you were the daughter of the Earl of Warnham, and the owner of the house he was renting?’

‘I didn’t. I haven’t.’

‘What? Why on earth not?’

Octavia took a breath and said defiantly, ‘I’ve agreed to begin as their governess in four days’ time.’

‘But how can you possibly manage that? Rupert would never agree! To say nothing of pretending to be something you are not! No, no! You can’t do it, Octavia!’

‘I could. With a little help from you, ma’am.’

‘Your papa will never consent.’

‘I wouldn’t ask him. I would tell him that it was as he feared—Wychford needs further attention than I thought, that I need to spend some time seeing to it. It’s not quite a lie, ma’am!’

‘It’s not the truth, either! What do you think he would feel if he learned that his daughter was working as a governess?’

‘I don’t suppose he ever will. At the end of two months I’ll come back here and take up my old life again. But I wish I could explain to you…Those children need me, ma’am.’

‘So does your father. How will you persuade him to do without you?’

‘Ah! That’s where the favour comes in.’

‘Tell me!’

‘Well, you did say that you’d like to stay longer this time. And if you were here Papa wouldn’t miss me nearly as much. Our housekeeper is perfectly competent, and the servants are all familiar with the routine of the house…’

‘If you are suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, the answer is no, Octavia! I won’t do it! Take charge of this house? Certainly not!’

‘You needn’t take charge, exactly—just be here. I could come back regularly to see that everything is working, though I’m sure it won’t be necessary. Please say you will, ma’am!’

Lady Dorney said somewhat coolly, ‘You realise, I hope, what I would be risking? Rupert and I have always been good friends. He would hardly believe it if he found out that I had helped you to deceive him. He would certainly be distressed. It might well mean the end of our friendship!’

‘It won’t! I swear it won’t. I just have a feeling…Cousin Marjorie, please do this! I know I am asking a lot. I can’t even explain why it is so important to me. Perhaps it’s the escape I’ve been looking for. Please help me!’

Lady Dorney hesitated, started to speak, then stopped again. Octavia waited in silence. At last her cousin said, ‘I’ve tried to persuade you so often to escape that I suppose I can hardly refuse to help you now. And I haven’t actually made any plans for the autumn, nor for the winter either. I don’t imagine I’ll be missed at Lutworth…’ She sighed, then sat up and said with decision, ‘Very well! I’ll do it! I’ll stay for two months. But I think I am as mad as you!’

With Lady Dorney’s help Octavia was on her way back to Wychford less than a week after her first fateful visit there. Will Gifford was once again her companion on the journey, but this time he would return to Ashcombe without her. At the back of the gig was a small valise with a selection of Octavia’s simplest dresses. Her hair was severely drawn back under an unadorned bonnet, her cape was of drab grey cloth plainly cut, and her gloves and boots serviceable rather than elegant. Lady Octavia Petrie, youngest child of one of the richest families in the south of England, and heiress in her own right of a handsome estate, had been replaced with simple Miss Petrie, newly engaged governess-companion to the Misses Barraclough.

A casual observer would not have known just how nervous she was. Her outward demeanour was composed and quietly confident. But the spirit of adventure had not disappeared. Inside Octavia was an unholy mixture of anticipation, apprehension, surprise at her own daring, and exhilaration at her escape. Two months. Two months to find out what she really wanted of life.

If anything, Wychford seemed more welcoming than ever. The day was overcast, but as the gig approached a fleeting ray of sunshine was reflected in those extraordinary windows. The house was smiling its quizzical smile. Lisette was hovering on the lawn, clearly waiting for her arrival. And as Octavia stepped out of the gig, Pip climbed down from the nearest tree. They took her over, Pip leading her to the door like a small tug in charge of a clipper, Lisette giving orders to the housekeeper.

‘We’ve given you a room near mine,’ said Pip. ‘Not exactly in the tower but nearby. Did you know that the old lady who used to live here was a witch? Mrs Dutton wasn’t here then, she lived in the next village, but she says all the villagers here were frightened of Mrs Carstairs.’

‘Really?’ As they went through the oak doors Octavia once again had the strange feeling that the house was enfolding her, welcoming her. ‘I think she must have been a good witch, Pip,’ she said, smiling. ‘Wychford is a friendly house. Don’t you agree?’

As a daughter of the Earl of Warnham Octavia had been accustomed all her life to the deference due to her rank and her wealth. But it was not difficult now for her to maintain her ‘disguise’. She was neither arrogant nor conceited, and she had more than her fair share of charm. Her normal, easy, matter-of-fact manner served her very well with everyone at Wychford. Everyone, that is, except the master of the household. She was still very much on trial as far as he was concerned, and more than once Octavia found herself biting back an unbecoming response when he made one of his critical remarks.

Fortunately he was frequently away on short visits to London. She learned that there had been three Barraclough brothers. John, the eldest and father of Lisette and Pip, had inherited a wealthy plantation on Antigua. Henry, the second son, also had land in the West Indies and was still over there. But Edward Barraclough, the youngest, had had little taste for plantation life, and when he had inherited a fortune made in banking by his uncle he had travelled the world. Now he apparently intended to settle permanently in England. At the moment he was attending meetings in the Foreign Office, advising the experts there on affairs in the Americas.

There had been some sort of plan for Lisette to marry the son of one of their neighbours in Antigua. But John Barraclough had suddenly changed his mind and decided to bring both girls over to England, where Lisette would be presented to London society. They had been busy with arrangements for the trip, when tragically both parents had been killed when their carriage had gone off the road, and the girls had been left orphaned. Their guardians, John’s surviving brothers, had decided to carry out John’s wishes, which was why they were now in England. But, the day before they left Antigua, Mrs Barraclough had slipped and broken her leg, and the girls had had to sail without their aunt. So the present plan was that the girls should live at Wychford in the care of a governess-companion until Mrs Barraclough could join them all there.

Octavia pieced this all together from what she learned in her first week at Wychford. Not from Lisette, who tended to be somewhat reserved, but from her sister. Discretion was not a word in Pip’s vocabulary. Once she had decided that Miss Petrie was a friend, she confided everything she knew of her family’s affairs quite freely.

One fine autumnal afternoon, after a morning’s work in the schoolroom, Octavia and Pip were walking in the woods behind the house. Lisette had stayed behind to finish a book she was reading.

‘You know, Miss Petrie, I think Uncle Henry was quite glad when Aunt Julia broke her leg,’ announced Pip.

Shocked, Octavia stopped short and looked at her. ‘What was that?’ she asked.

‘I said that I think Uncle Henry was glad Aunt Julia had broken her leg,’ Pip repeated patiently.

‘But that’s a dreadful thing to say, Pip! How could he be?’

‘It meant that he had to stay behind to look after her. Uncle Henry didn’t want to come to England, you know, and Aunt Julia’s broken leg meant he had to stay in Antigua a bit longer.’

‘But…I’m not sure I understand. If your Uncle Henry was so reluctant to leave the West Indies, why was it necessary for him to come at all? Surely your Aunt Julia and Uncle Edward would have been enough?’

‘That’s what Uncle Henry wanted. But Aunt Julia wouldn’t hear of it. She said Edward couldn’t be trusted to do the thing properly without the rest of the family to keep an eye on him.’

‘Tell me, if you call your uncle “Edward”, why don’t you call your aunt “Julia”?’

‘Oh, we couldn’t! She’s much older than he is! She looks a bit like Miss Froom.’

‘Really?’ Octavia was surprised. Older than he was, and looking a bit like Miss Froom? It seemed a most unlikely wife for Edward Barraclough.

Pip went on, ‘She and Edward don’t like each other very much. It’s easy to tell when people don’t. They’re always extremely polite to each other.’

Octavia pulled herself together and decided it was more than time for a proper governess to stem these confidences. ‘Philippa, you should not tell me such things. What happens between husband and wife is not for the outside world to know.’

‘What do you mean?’ Pip looked puzzled at first, then bent over in a fit of giggles. ‘Miss Petrie! You don’t think…You don’t think Aunt Julia is married to Edward, do you?’

‘Of course I do! Isn’t he?’

Pip went off into another paroxysm of giggles. ‘He’d rather die! He said so! Aunt Julia is Uncle Henry’s wife! And I once heard Edward telling Papa that he would never know why Uncle Henry had married such a sour-faced prune!’

Octavia bit her lip and managed to say severely, ‘Philippa! You must not, you really must not, repeat things like that, especially not to me! I’m sure your uncle would be very vexed to know that you had heard his words, and even angrier to know you were repeating them! Or even talking about him at all!’

‘Would he?’

‘Of course he would!’

‘Then I won’t say any more. I like Edward. But let me tell you this one thing. He isn’t married, Miss Petrie. Lisette is sorry for him. She thinks he must have a broken heart, but I think that’s rubbish. Some of the prettiest ladies in Antigua made a fuss of him, but he never paid them any attention. I was glad, I didn’t like any of them much. I want him to marry someone nice.’ She looked confidingly up at Octavia. ‘You would do very well, Miss Petrie. I’d like Edward to marry you. You’ll have to set your cap at him.’

Octavia gasped. What would the child say next? Choking back another urge to burst into laughter, she said sternly, ‘That’s enough! You must never let me hear you use such a vulgar expression again, Philippa! Where on earth did you pick it up?’

‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘To accuse someone of setting her cap at someone is not at all the thing. It’s not only vulgar, it’s unkind. You mustn’t use the expression.’

‘Edward used it. When we were talking about governesses. He said he didn’t want some pretty flibberty-gibbet whose sole aim was to set her cap at the first eligible bachelor who happened along. I don’t think he meant himself, though he’s very rich, you know. Lots of people have set their—’ Pip caught sight of Octavia’s frown and corrected herself. ‘Have tried to make him like them. Why don’t you want to?’

Repressing a mad impulse to tell the child that Edward Barraclough would be the last man she would ever consider, Octavia forced herself to think as a real governess would. The child’s capacity for verbatim reporting was amazing, but she would have to be taught to keep such things to herself. ‘I can see that you’ve been left to your own devices for too long, my girl!’ she said firmly. ‘You need a little discipline. Oh, don’t look like that! I’m not a Miss Froom. But you’ll have to learn to keep gossip and the things people say when they’re not thinking strictly to yourself. It’s called good manners.’

Pip sighed. ‘I’ll try to do as you say, but it’s very hard. Lisette thinks Edward needs a wife, and you would be so suitable! I’d like you for my aunt—you’re much nicer than Aunt Julia.’

‘Philippa! What have I just said?’

‘That I mustn’t gossip. But that wasn’t gossip, it was just an opinion! You would be good for Edward! You’re prettier than any of the ladies in Antigua. And much prettier than the lady he visits in London. Though he must like her a lot. He gives her lots of presents.’

Octavia gasped. What else would the child come out with? And what had Edward Barraclough been thinking of to let her see him with someone who, from the sound of it, was quite possibly his mistress?

‘I assure you, Philippa, that even if it were possible I would not consider marrying your uncle under any circumstances whatsoever!’ she said emphatically. ‘And we shall now finish this conversation and return to the house, where you will spend the rest of the afternoon improving your mind! Come!’

They turned to go back. Edward Barraclough was just walking towards them. He was only a few yards away, and looking more than usually sardonic. He could not have helped overhearing what she had just said.

‘Mr Barraclough!’ Octavia felt her face grow scarlet as she stammered, ‘We didn’t see you, sir…’

‘Edward!’ Pip launched herself at her uncle. ‘We thought you were in London! What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for Lisette. I have a letter from Antigua for her, but I couldn’t find her in the house. I thought she would be with you, Miss Petrie.’

With a considerable effort Octavia mastered her confusion and said politely, ‘Is she not in her room, sir? We left her there reading.’

‘She isn’t there now. I suggest you find her as speedily as you can. How long is it since you left her to her own devices?’

Octavia coloured again, this time with anger. But she said calmly and carefully, ‘About an hour, sir. I left her, in her own room, with a book she said she wished to finish. It did not seem to me to be a very hazardous occupation.’

Mr Barraclough nodded. ‘And if she had stayed there we should not now be looking for her. But she didn’t. Nor did she answer when I called. Where do you suppose she is, Miss Petrie? While you have been…exchanging confidences with Philippa, my other niece has been unsupervised for over an hour.’

‘Don’t be angry with Miss Petrie, Edward. Lisette’s safe. I expect she’s sitting in the sun on the top of the tower. She likes it there.’

‘On top of the…’ Octavia picked up her skirts and began to hurry back to the house. Mr Barraclough overtook her after just a few paces. By the time she had reached the foot of the stairs to the tower he was already coming down, followed by Lisette.

‘Why are you annoyed, Edward?’ she was saying in a puzzled voice. ‘It is perfectly safe up there! The parapet is high and the roof is sound.’

‘I called you. Why didn’t you answer?’

‘I didn’t hear you.’ Lisette had reached Octavia. ‘Miss Petrie, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to give you a fright.’

‘It’s all right, Lisette. I was anxious for a moment or two, but I should have known you are too sensible to do anything rash. Your uncle was worried when he couldn’t find you. Did you finish your book?’

‘Yes. And then I sat in the sun and fell asleep. That’s why I didn’t hear his call. Don’t be angry with me, Edward!’

‘I’m not angry,’ he said abruptly. ‘I was worried when I couldn’t find you.’

Lisette shook her head at him. ‘You needn’t be,’ she said. ‘I’m quite safe here. Why were you looking for me?’

‘I have some letters from Antigua for you, including one from your Aunt Julia. If you and Pip will come down in a few minutes I’ll deliver them. I’d like a word with Miss Petrie first.’

Octavia looked at Mr Barraclough’s frown. ‘I think you’d both be better for a tidy up,’ she said with a smile at the girls. ‘The tower may be safe, Lisette, but it isn’t very clean. And Pip’s clothes always need attention! Tidy yourselves up before you come down.’

As she followed Edward Barraclough down the stairs, through the hall, and into the library she wondered what he would say. It would not be pleasant, she was sure. He had almost certainly overheard her words to Pip, and she steeled herself to be ready to apologise for them, though she was not at all clear what she could possibly say. But his attitude towards her supervision of Lisette was unreasonable, and if he were to accuse her again of neglecting her duties she would find that difficult to accept without protest.

She was surprised therefore when he invited her to sit down. He stared at her for a moment, then walked to the window. Without turning, he said abruptly, ‘I suppose you think I was too hard on you.’

‘About Lisette? Well…’

‘You needn’t hesitate, Miss Petrie. I believe I know what you think of me. But that is of no concern at the moment. I wish to explain why we are so careful of Lisette.’

‘Sir?’

He came over and sat down at his desk. ‘I’m not sure how much you’ve heard of our family history, though I imagine Pip has told you everything she knows by now. She seems to have taken a decided fancy to you.’ Mr Barraclough’s tone implied that he did not share Pip’s feelings. ‘She isn’t too much for you?’

‘I don’t think so, sir. She is a delightful little girl. And a highly intelligent one.’

‘Hmm! You seem to have her confidence at any rate. She’s brighter than Lisette, of course.’

‘More lively, certainly. But Lisette is utterly charming. She will be a great success in Society.’

‘And what would you know of that?’ he asked derisively.

Octavia bit her lip. She had spoken without thinking. Governesses would not normally be able to judge how Society would receive their pupils. But she recovered and said quietly, ‘Her beauty, her gentleness and concern for others, must endear her to anyone who meets her, here or in the greater world.’

‘You’ve read too many novels. I hope you’re not stuffing Lisette’s head with such nonsense. In my experience, gentleness and concern for others are not the qualities looked for in the ladies of society. Nor are they often found—’ He stopped as Octavia drew a sharp breath. ‘You wished to say something? No? Then I’ll continue. Lisette’s beauty will be a great asset, but she has a more reliable key to success, the most important one of all. Wealth, Miss Petrie. Money. She is a considerable heiress. That is what will make her a success in Society.’

Octavia could not let this pass. ‘I would not wish to stuff anyone’s head with romantic nonsense, sir. But neither would I wish to give any young person as cynical a view of the world as the one you have just expressed.’

‘Yes, yes, I dare say. But your experience is somewhat limited. What if I were to tell you that, young as she is, Lisette has already been rescued from an unsuitable association?’

This was a surprise. Lisette had never mentioned anything of the sort. ‘I suppose I would have to believe you,’ Octavia said slowly. ‘This was in Antigua, I take it?’

‘Of course. The son of one of the neighbours thought that marrying my niece would be an easy way to make himself rich. Ricardo Arandez has a great deal of address, and Lisette, as you may have observed, is too ready to believe what people say, too ready to like them. Her father was the same. Arandez persuaded him to consent to a betrothal. Fortunately Lisette was still very young, so, though John agreed, he insisted it should not be official before she was sixteen. By that time his eyes had been opened to Arandez’s true character.’ He smiled grimly. ‘I made sure of it. John withdrew his consent, and Lisette was saved from what would have been a disastrous marriage. Ricardo Arandez is a scoundrel.’

‘Was she in love with this man?’

‘Of course not! The girl was far too young to be in love.’

Octavia thought of Tom Payne and smiled. ‘Is one ever?’

Mr Barraclough surveyed her. ‘This is just what I feared. Miss Froom would have taken my point immediately, but you are still trailing clouds of romantic folly. Miss Petrie, let me make myself clear. Your task is to look after Lisette, and that includes guarding her from undesirable acquaintances until her aunt is able to take over from you. It is highly unlikely that Arandez will find his way to Wychford, but if he or any other potential fortune hunter appears on the scene, I wish to be told of it immediately.’

‘The risk here is surely slight, but I will certainly promise you that. However, I hope that doesn’t include acting as some sort of jailer, watching her twenty-four hours a day?’

‘No, no. I admit I overreacted to her disappearance this afternoon. My excuse is that I had just heard from my sister-in-law, who is somewhat too protective of our nieces, and always ready to accuse me of not looking after them well enough. I suppose I was still under the influence of her letter.’ He fell silent.

Octavia waited a moment, then said, ‘Is that all, sir?’

‘What? Oh, yes. Ask the girls to come in, will you?’

She went to the door. As she opened it he said, ‘By the way, Miss Petrie!’ She stopped and turned. ‘I know it is almost impossible to silence Pip, but I should prefer you not to discuss my affairs with her. However…I am relieved to know that I am safe from your attentions—whatever the circumstances!’ He sat back in his chair with a smile of satisfaction as she blushed and hurried out of the room.