by Abby Ayles
“She came down wearing that,” Christopher said. “I didn’t make her.”
“You disgust me,” Edmund said, pacing up and down in front of them. “I can barely believe the level you have fallen to. You think it is acceptable to engage in such drunken behaviour?”
“Slo... slow down,” Christopher said, watching him and swaying back and forth as he passed by. “You’re making me feel sick.”
Rivers began snoring loudly from his place on the couch, and Christopher tittered.
Edmund had had enough.
“Get up,” he said, seizing Christopher by the collar.
He hauled him out into the main hall and deposited him on the floor by the main entrance doors.
“Sit there and wait for the coach. You’re going back to your base, and tonight.”
It took their driver’s help to move Rivers into the coach, though Christopher was still able to get in under his own steam – with a few false starts and falls.
“I apologise for asking you to take them at this hour,” Edmund said to his driver, his breath forming clouds in the cold night air.
“But they simply cannot stay. Please, see them to the barracks. There you will have help to remove them, and return post-haste. I shall expect you in the late morning to take me onwards to London.”
***
In the morning, Edmund woke at the normal hour.
He had barely slept at all since the interruption, which had not been long after he extinguished his candle, but there was no excuse for sitting around. There was work to be done, no matter what circumstances might be plaguing his home life.
In the hour or so before the coach driver would take him to the city, he still had much to do.
The first thing involved sitting at the desk in his study, going back over the advertisement he had placed in the paper last time he required a governess at short notice.
The text was more or less the same, given that it had been only a short while ago that he had used it.
This one had lasted longer than all of the others, he had to admit, and there was still a stab of remorse that almost stayed his hand as he wrote it out again. But he had to remain firm.
This was about what was best for the children, not his own personal feelings.
“You’re still at home,” Amy said, from the doorway of the study.
She was still rubbing her eyes, just as he had seen her last night, though now she was dressed and her hair had been brushed. “Are you going to stay with us today?”
Edmund put down his quill and turned to her. “No, Amy, my sweet. I’m just going to work late, that’s all.”
“Why?”
Edmund held out his arms to her, twisting around in his chair. Amy needed no further encouragement to bound over and climb up to sit on his knee.
“I have to go to work, Amy. I have to keep up the business now that Father – now that it’s my responsibility.”
“But you can stay at home for one day,” Amy said, with an air of decisiveness.
Edmund laughed and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Not today. I’ll be with you all weekend, I promise.”
Amy sighed. “Okay then. I want a pony though.”
“Nice try, little one,” Edmund laughed again. “You’ll just have to make do without either me or a pony. At least until you’re old enough to ride by yourself.”
“I bet Miss Warrick can teach me,” Amy said, resting her little head against Edmund’s shoulder and wriggling into a more comfortable position. “She knows everything.”
“Not quite everything, sweet,” Edmund said, feeling the heaviness settle on him again.
One thing she did not know, clearly, was how to stand up to Christopher.
“I love Miss Warrick. I hope she’s here forever and ever,” Amy said, wriggling again and then jumping down to the floor.
She wandered away, leaving Edmund staring after her, quite speechless.
It was true that the children had quite taken to her. Samuel, too. Even Patience seemed less determined to hate her than she had with every other governess.
Could he really risk exchanging her for another woman who might not be so quick to earn their love?
And when he thought about it, wasn’t Christopher really the one who should be taken to task for all of this? He was unsure that any of the servants would really have been able to stop him from doing whatever he wanted, old Jenkins included.
Perhaps he was being too hard on Miss Warrick, judging her in anger. The person who really deserved his ire was the one who had stumbled in drunk and unannounced.
“What are you doing, Edmund?” he asked himself, out loud.
Before he could think about it for too much longer, he took the scrap of paper from his desk and balled it up, throwing it to the floor. The original advertisement followed swiftly after it.
He put away his quill pen and ink, and cleared the desk entirely so that all temptation was gone.
There. The governess would stay – it was decided.
And if a small part of him was relieved not to lose her company, then that part need not be acknowledged.
Far be it from him to admit that he might perhaps like having her around for his own benefit, too.
Chapter 14
Joanna had been sure that she would be dismissed after the anger she had seen on Edmund’s face.
He had every right; she had been unable to stop all of it, and had failed in her most serious duty of protecting Patience.
But despite the guilt that she felt, Edmund did not so much as mention it again.
The first time she met him in the corridor after that night, he simply grunted from deep in his chest, gave her a level stare, and moved on.
She took the message of his stare, as she interpreted it, to heart.
Don’t make another mistake like that again.
Joanna was determined not to let him down. The way he had trusted her at the ball, and the way he had praised her, had made her feel so alive and happy.
She would do anything, now, to return to that position again. She would make him respect and trust her once more, even if it took until the children were all grown up to do it.
The children, for their part, were another source of concern after the night that Jasper Rivers and Christopher crashed into the home.
While Samuel and Amy were still as good as gold, Patience was more than surly about the telling-off she had received from Edmund for her part in it.
He had more or less told her that she would not be attending any more balls for the summer so that she could reform her attitude towards the right way to act in polite society.
The two of them had screamed at one another for so long at dinner that night that Samuel and Amy had snuck away to find Joanna in the schoolroom and hide with her. Patience had thrown every fussy tantrum trick she could think of, but Edmund was unmoved.
Now, aside from the awkward silences at the dinner table that no doubt endured, Joanna was the one who was having to deal with Patience’s temper.
She had lost all interest in her lessons, preferring instead to bemoan her current situation and act as though she were the first young woman ever to feel slighted.
“Study a few pages from your French book,” Joanna said, only a few days after the incident, as she prepared to set up Samuel and Amy with their lessons. By the time they were settled, she would be ready to come back and test Patience on what she had read.
“Shan’t,” said Patience, yawning loudly and going over to sit on the wide ledge of the schoolroom windowsill.
Joanna blinked, watching her. “Excuse me, Miss Patience?” she said, quite sure that she must have heard her wrong.
“Excuse yourself,” Patience said, rudely. “I shan’t take any more lessons. I have decided I am no longer going to do any of it.”
Joanna continued to stare at her, open-mouthed.
She had never heard a girl say such insolent things! What should she do?
The thought of going to
Edmund for help only made her shudder. She would be dismissed for certain if he thought that she was not able to control his sister.
Joanna cleared her throat quietly, trying to regain her composure. She turned back to the other two children, who were also staring open-mouthed, clearly wondering what would happen next.
“Mr. Samuel,” Joanna said. “I’d like you to work on your world map. Can you finish shading all of the African countries for me this morning?”
Samuel nodded wordlessly, reaching into his desk to take out the half-finished work without taking his eyes off Patience.
“Now, Miss Amy, we’ll do some more reading for a little while this morning. Will you read out the next chapter of your book to me?” Joanna said, sitting down next to Amy as if nothing had happened.
Amy started slowly and cautiously, glancing over at Patience often.
The older girl did not move or turn around, simply looking out of the window.
Joanna racked her brains for what she should do.
What kind of action should she take? She was wholly unprepared for this kind of behaviour. Her sister had never acted out in this way, nor had her brother, and she had no model of what a governess was to do when discipline was so severely required.
She was quite at a loss.
When Amy finished her reading, Joanna realised she had barely heard any of it. She had been able to pay little enough attention to correct Amy’s mistakes, and nothing more.
“Well done, Miss Amy,” she said, feeling a slight shake in her hands as she took the book from her. She barely knew what to do next.
It was Samuel and Amy who saved her. They had been used to their sister’s temperament for rather longer, and they evidently knew how to deal with it.
“Miss Warrick,” Samuel called loudly. “Will you help me with my map? And can Amy join in?”
Joanna looked between the two of them for a moment, and noted how their little faces were set with a new kind of determination and enthusiasm.
She nodded, not quite yet understanding the meaning of their intentions. “Yes, alright. Let’s work together, then.”
The three of them moved their chairs so that they could sit around Samuel’s desk, all looking down at the map.
“What kind of animals are here, Miss Warrick?” Samuel asked, pointing at a random spot. “I want to draw some on there.”
“Tigers roam wild,” Joanna said, peering down at the map. “Have you ever seen an illustration of a tiger?”
“Yes!” Samuel exclaimed. “They have stripes all down their backs and ferocious teeth.”
Amy bared her teeth like an animal and let out a mighty roar, clawing the air with her fingers. “I’m a tiger,” she explained.
Joanna laughed in spite of the tension she felt. “Very good, Miss Amy!”
“And what about here?” asked Samuel. He had a pencil in his hand and was already drawing a small, rather wobbly example of a tiger.
“Over here we can find zebras and lions,” Joanna said.
“What’s a zebie?” Amy asked.
“It’s like a horse,” Samuel said. “But that’s all stripy too.”
“Quite right,” Joanna nodded. “They are striped black and white.”
“Could you ride them?” Amy asked, her eyes shining with delight.
“I confess, I am not sure,” Joanna laughed. “They are shaped like horses, so I do not see why not.”
“I’m going to ask Edmund for a zebie,” Amy declared.
“I will get a lion then,” Samuel said, roaring in much the same way Amy’s tiger had.
“What’s the difference between a lion and a tiger, children?” Joanna asked.
“One’s stripy,” Amy put in.
“Um… maybe lions have lots of hair,” Samuel added. “Oh, and they live in different places.”
“Well done again,” Joanna smiled. “But you should be very careful where you put your lion. Do you know why?”
“Because he eats zebras,” Samuel said with a wicked grin.
“No!” Amy gasped, putting both hands to her cheeks. “He can’t eat my zebie!”
Samuel and Joanna both laughed. “Don’t worry, little one. All you need is a strong cage to keep the lion in so he doesn’t get out.”
Joanna stole a glance at Patience. The older girl kept moving her head as if she was listening and wanted to turn around, but she said nothing.
Perhaps this was working – showing her how much fun they were all having without her.
“Where do monkeys live?” Amy asked, clearly moving on from the dilemma about her ‘zebie’.
“Oh, well, they don’t just live in one place,” Joanna said. “In fact, you can find monkeys in a lot of places around the world. Like here, here, and here.”
“Monkeys are funny,” Samuel said, grinning. “We saw one once. One of Father’s friends had a pet he brought back from the New World. He was like a little old man.”
“What did he sound like?” Amy asked, wide-eyed.
“Don’t you remember, Amy?” Samuel asked. “He made a noise like ooh-ooh-ooh. And he walked like this.”
Samuel got out of his chair and crouched down, swinging his arms around loosely. Amy and Joanna were both in fits of laughter watching him.
“That’s not quite right,” Patience said from the window. She got up, carefully avoiding Joanna’s eyes. “He wasn’t crouching like that. He was walking on short legs. You just look silly.”
“Show me,” Amy insisted.
Patience shook her head. “It’s not exactly ladylike. Samuel, just straighten your legs a bit – there, like that.”
Patience walked over while Samuel continued perfecting his impression, and took a nearby chair so that she could sit closer to them.
Joanna said nothing. The last thing she wanted to do now was to act smugly, or do something else that might trigger Patience to change her mind and flounce away again.
They sat around the desk for the rest of the morning, talking about different animals from around the world. It hadn’t been part of Joanna’s plan for the week’s lessons, but she didn’t mind.
So long as they were learning something, and enjoying themselves, she could let them continue.
By the end of the day, little Amy had quite worn herself out. With only an hour to go until dinner, Joanna decided that the little girl was in need of a nap. She could wake up for her meal and then return to bed, but she would not be able to stay awake for much longer without that nap.
Joanna lifted her into her arms, cradling Amy’s sleepy head against her neck, and carried her out of the schoolroom. She was almost asleep by the time they reached her bed.
“Here you are,” Joanna said, laying her down and drawing the covers over her.
“Night-night, Mama,” Amy murmured.
Joanna could not help but draw in a soft gasp of air. She was hit by the surprise, and the unexpected pain of it.
The poor child. After losing her mother, she no longer had anyone to fill that role – Joanna was the closest thing she had.
Amy’s eyes opened again at the sound of Joanna’s gasp, and her cheeks flushed red. “Sorry, Miss Warrick,” she whispered.
Joanna smiled, not wanting to discourage her. “Go to sleep, little one. It’s alright.”
She stroked Amy’s hair back from her face and waited until her breathing evened out before standing up and leaving the room.
The poor mite. Joanna’s heart was warmed by the idea that Amy would mistake her for her mother, even in such a sleepy state. The comparison was beyond flattering – it had to be.
But still, there was an ache in her chest for the fact that Amy had to miss her mother at all – and for the longing to see her own mother again someday.
That night after dining, Joanna retired to her room and thought of Esther. She had missed her sister dreadfully and had received a new message just a few days ago. She realised that she had not yet had the time to read it.
There were so many things t
hat she needed to ask for advice about, but then again it wasn’t as though Esther had any real experience with children either.
How should she deal with Patience? Well, that was one question she might at least have partially answered for herself now.