by Abby Ayles
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Abby Ayles
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Secret Dreams of a Fearless Governess
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
The Extended Epilogue
A Message from Abby
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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Secret Dreams of a Fearless Governess
Chapter 1
Joanna Warrick looked up at the grand home in front of her. She barely had the courage to step out of the carriage, now that she was confronted with it. Her heart was heavy in her chest, and part of her wanted nothing more than to tell the driver to turn around and take her home.
But there was no home for her, not anymore. Or, to look at it another way, this house was her new home.
She sighed, and stepped down to the ground, taking the offered arm of the driver. He quickly turned away to fetch her luggage down, leaving her to her own devices.
She looked around, spinning slowly on the spot to take in the view around the house itself.
Acres of parkland stretched in every direction – the carriage had travelled through it for some distance after entering the gates.
It was more impressive than her family’s home had ever been, if for the grounds alone. But for the house, she could say with sincerity that it was not any more grand or well-kept than that of her father.
Yet here she was, ready to take up a position as little better than a servant inside it.
An older man, a butler by his appearance at the door, came down the steps to greet her.
“Miss Warrick, I presume?” he said.
“Yes,” Joanna replied, nervously adjusting her bonnet.
“The children are waiting in the school room to meet you. Come, I will show you where you need to go.”
Joanna glanced down at her bags, her only belongings in the world now, which the carriage driver had deposited on the floor at her feet.
“I’ll ask one of the housemaids to take those to your room,” the butler said. “My name is Jenkins. Please, do follow me.”
Joanna nodded and hurried after him as he turned to walk briskly away. She did not quite trust her voice or her words at that moment. Of course, she had interacted with servants like Jenkins many a time.
The only problem was that she had done so as the daughter of the house, and as such, his superior. Now that things had changed and she had fallen so far, she barely knew how to act.
“I believe you have not met any of the Hardwicke family previously,” Jenkins was saying.
“No,” Joanna replied. “I… well, I lived far north of here. I’ve never even visited this part of England.”
Jenkins looked back over his shoulder, fixing her with an inscrutable gaze for a moment. “I suppose your mother thought that would be for the best.”
“Yes,” Joanna said, hearing her own voice crack just a little. “She felt it would be less difficult if I became governess to a family we had not met in social circles.”
The butler grunted slightly under his breath, which might have been taken for an agreement or for derision. Joanna did not feel tempted to ask which.
He led her through a grand open hall from the entrance, with corridors and doors snaking off in all directions. There was also a wide staircase leading upwards, though for the moment he took her to the right.
Down a corridor with wooden floorboards which rapped smartly under her shoes, and finally to another door right at the end, where he paused.
“Now, listen,” Jenkins said, taking a breath and looking at her sternly. “They are children. That means you are in control. They must do as you say in terms of their education. You may not find that my lord, the Earl of Kelt, is open to conversation on this point. In other words, if they should misbehave, you will need to take them in hand – and quickly. If they see weakness in you, I assure you, you will be gone the way of the last governess.”
“What happened to the last governess?” Joanna asked.
She wiped her hands, which for some reason hand suddenly become damp with perspiration, on the sides of her dress.
Jenkins’ face softened, becoming almost avuncular. “Never mind about that, for now,” he said. “They’re waiting. Have you been informed of their names?”
Joanna nodded, looking up to the ceiling briefly as she recalled what had been sent to her in the letter confirming her appointment.
“They are Patience, who is sixteen; Samuel, who is nine; and the littlest Amy, who is five.”
“Correct,” Jenkins nodded. He cocked his head at the sound of a chiming from a grandfather clock somewhere back down the corridor. “I must go, and you are already late. Let’s go in.”
Without waiting for a confirmation from Joanna, who would really have liked to wait a few minutes more at least, he opened the door and stepped smartly inside.
The children had evidently been deep in conversation, for they all stopped talking at once and looked up at the doorway.
They were sitting on soft chairs inside the moderately-sized room, which held several bookcases, tables, and other learning instruments. Joanna saw a globe and a chalkboard before fixing her attention on the children.
“Are you the new governess?” the oldest girl asked. Patience’s voice was short and terse, as if she had prepared already to dislike Joanna.
She had dark hair falling in ringlets down her back, tied with bright yellow ribbons, and a yellow gown to match. She was quite pretty, even despite the frown that settled on her features as she looked at them.
“Now, Miss Patience,” Jenkins remonstrated gently, placing a hand on Joanna’s shoulder. “This is Miss Warrick Warrick, your new governess. She has travelled far to be with you today.”
“Warrick,” Patience said thoughtfully, casting her eye across the room to a number of books that lay open on a table. “Aren’t you a lady?”
Joanna cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I… My father was a
baron,” she said, quite unsure for a moment of what to say. Her cheeks burned, the shame of her situation coming to her fully.
“Why isn’t he your father anymore?” Amy asked, piping up with a curious tilt of her head.
The youngest girl was darling, a picture of her older sister with the same ringlets, yet dressed in pink and with round, smiling cheeks.
“Don’t be silly, Amy,” Patience said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “He’s dead.”
Joanna’s heart almost stopped in her chest. It was cruel, to hear it told so simply. She was flustered, her hands fluttering together in front of her. She managed to calm them and clasp them together, letting them drop down in front of her body.
With a great effort, she could respond. “Miss Patience is correct,” she said, clearing her throat to rid it of the obstruction before she continued. “My father passed away quite recently.”
“What happened to him?” Samuel asked, although Jenkins was obviously squirming in discomfort at their line of questioning.
He was a small boy, pale and short for his age, and his clothes seemed too large. The dark hair on his head was cut short, though it was easy to see that he shared the curls of his sisters.
“I…” Joanna began, but looked to Jenkins for help, despairingly. How was she to talk about this with the young children who were to be her charges? How could she share with them her shame and grief, and they so young to understand it?
“I heard Edmund talking about it,” Patience declared. “He was telling Christopher. The baron’s heart failed him out of shame. They quite ran out of money, you see.”
“My lady!” Jenkins burst out, fixing Patience with a furious glare. “That is quite enough for the moment. Your governess will take you through your lessons now.”
He nodded to Joanna, then turned on his heel and left the room. Just like that, she was alone.
Joanna was reminded of a novel she had read perhaps a year before, in which one of the characters had been thrown to wolves to be eaten. This, she thought as the door closed behind him, was probably how it had felt.
She cleared her throat for the umpteenth time and tried to grasp some control.
“Children, I will need to take you through your paces first of all to see what lessons you are in need of. We’ll commence with some tests.”
All three children groaned, and Joanna gave them a small smile.
“It won’t be too serious. You’ll see. I just want to know what you know. There’s nothing wrong with not knowing something yet, not for this test, at least.”
She moved in front of the chalkboard and picked up the chalk, and tried not to think about her father. The collapse of the bank, into which he had invested all of the family’s money, had been so hard on him.
She was not angry at him; he may not have had a good head for business, but he was her father, and he had always shown her love and affection.
It was that same lack of concern for money that had him gifting her silk ribbons and puppies and new bonnets every time he went to the city. And hadn’t she enjoyed all of those gifts?
“Let’s start with the basics,” Joanna said, smiling down at little Amy. “We’ll go through the three R’s first. I want to see that you have a good foundation.”
Patience sighed loudly. “Isn’t this just for Amy’s benefit?” she asked.
“Not at all,” Joanna said, holding her smile without a pause this time. “I expect you and Mr. Samuel to know all of these basics already. You should pass easily, and if you don’t, then I know what to work on first.”
Though Patience made her displeasure known with a number of dramatic sighs and huffs, Joanna continued resolutely.
She found with some relief that the children were well-learned, and though Samuel was of an age where he should have gone away to school, he did not seem to have fallen too far behind what she had expected.
“Our last governess told me how to remember that,” he said, proudly, after she had asked him to name some capitals from the globe.
“Oh?” Joanna asked, leaning closer for a moment.
Patience and Amy were distracted with their own exercises, and after checking with a glance that they were not listening, Joanna saw her chance.
“What exactly happened to your last governess?”
“Oh, Edmund didn’t like her,” Samuel explained. “He said she was too strict because she shouted at Patience.”
Joanna glanced over at Patience again, but the older girl was seemingly entranced by an examination of her own nails and fingers. “Was she your governess for a long time?”
“No,” Samuel shrugged. “Just as long as the last one.”
Joanna felt fingers of ice touching her spine. “How many governesses have you had, Samuel?”
The boy thought for a moment. “Well,” he said, “since Mama and Papa died, I think… maybe ten.”
“Ten!” Joanna felt her heart beating faster.
She had suspected that there had been one or two before her, but not ten. And all since their parents died? Perhaps it had been many years ago… but then, Amy was but five years old, wasn’t she?
“When…. When did your parents die?”
“Well, I’m nine now, so, hmm…” Samuel said, counting on his fingers. “A year and three months.”
Joanna stared at him, dumbfounded. To go through so many governesses, in just fifteen months? Some of them must have counted their stays in the days or weeks, rather than months!
“And why did they all leave?” She managed to ask after a moment’s pause.
“Edmund didn’t like them,” Samuel said, turning his attention back to the globe.
Joanna stared at the short curls on his head as he peered at the names of places painted onto the wooden surface. How was she ever going to last in a place like this?
Chapter 2
Edmund looked out of the window of the carriage, sighing. He could see that they were still a long way from home, and the day was not getting any earlier.
“Can’t we go any faster?” He asked, leaning his head out to shout at the driver.
“No, my lord,” the driver said. “I’m afraid the roads are very muddy today. All the rain overnight. It’s pulling back our wheels and making the horses’ hooves heavy.”
Edmund sighed, and pulled his head back inside the carriage. What a mess. He was going to be late, and on the day that the children met their new governess.
It wasn’t as though it could have been helped. There was so much to do up at the London office. His father had run a tight ship, but in the months following his death, things had become rather less restrained.
Now it was up to Edmund to put everything back in its place.
Although he felt he had been doing a good job, running things as his father had taught him, there were still a good many liberties that had been taken in his absence at the beginning.
He leafed through the papers he had brought along with him, so that he could continue working on the carriage journey home.
A note from Lord Kelverley made him pause, and shake his head in annoyance. The man had cornered him in the London office earlier that morning, trying to haggle him down on price.
“Your father was always a reasonable man, with a good head for business,” Kelverley had said.
“Yes,” Edmund had replied. “He had good enough sense not to offer you a lower price when you were dealing with him.”
“But, my boy,” Kelverley had entreated, although they were now equal in status. It was as if he had not noticed that his father’s death made Edmund the new Earl. “Times have changed. People have less confidence in the company now.”
Edmund had stood then, his chair scraping back across the wooden boards of the floor of his father’s office.
“If you have less confidence in the company, you are more than welcome to take your business elsewhere. Since you do not, and since you come to me haggling like a fishwife, I can assume that you are attempting to test out whether I will
give you some kind of discount out of inexperience.
“I can assure you, Lord Kelverley, that I am not going to fail. You will pay the same price you paid my father, or you will receive nothing at all.”
That had stopped the old lord in his tracks, though it had done little good for the overall picture.
The truth was that many of their customers, the loyal base that Edmund’s father had built up over the years, were not as eager to deal with his son.
They had, of course, expected Edmund to step up to run the business perhaps a decade or more from now.
Instead, he had been forced to take the position as head of the company at just twenty-three years old.
A year on, he knew they still thought him wet behind the ears, inexperienced, and liable to make mistakes.