by Abby Ayles
Patience was clearly disappointed, but allowed herself to be pulled away. “We will miss the boys’ games,” she said.
“I am sure Mr. Samuel will be fine with Lieutenant Christopher,” Joanna said, deliberately misunderstanding her meaning.
She took one last glance over her shoulder as Patience and Amy walked ahead into a small grove. Rivers was back on the shore and dressing again, rolling down his breeches to their proper place.
Joanna noted how the water, dripping from his arm, caused his white shirt to cling closely to his body, and shook her head.
She had the feeling that she had pulled her charge away just in time.
When they returned, Samuel was tired out, sitting on the blankets to watch Christopher and Rivers throwing and catching the ball. Rivers had never picked up his jacket, playing in his shirtsleeves instead.
“I think the children ought to return to the house,” Joanna called out, catching their attention. “We have been gone some hours. It is time for them to eat.”
“Fine. I’m hungry anyway,” Christopher said, slipping the ball into his pocket. “Jasper and I will head back too.”
Joanna turned around to gather the blankets back into the basket she had carried over, and felt a chill seize her heart.
Patience had fetched the red jacket from where it lay on the grass and was carrying it over, holding it in front of her with an almost reverential expression.
“Here’s your jacket, Lieutenant,” she said, passing it over to Rivers.
“I thank you, my beautiful lady,” Rivers said, effecting a bow as he took it from her. He shrugged it on, giving her a dazzling smile in the process.
Joanna marched forward quickly with the basket tucked under one of her arms, and hooked the other around Patience’s elbow.
“Come, Miss Patience,” she said. “We are all prepared. Let’s return to the house. Take your sister’s hand, there.”
Amy eagerly grabbed hold of Patience’s hand to skip alongside them.
Though Patience looked mightily displeased, she could not protest. Samuel, Rivers, and Christopher ended up walking ahead of them, though Samuel eventually dropped back, unable to keep up with their pace.
The three days of the officers’ visit were perhaps the longest of Joanna’s life. She felt exhausted, having to watch closely over Patience at every moment.
On the second night, she even caught her trying to sneak down to the sitting room after she was supposed to have retired from the night.
From then, Joanna took to stalking the corridors until she was confident that Patience had at last fallen asleep.
Rivers was a scoundrel, a rogue, and a cad – of that she had no doubt, even if she had no actual proof. She was quite certain that he was deliberately making a pose of himself around Patience, and that it was all a carefully designed ploy to get himself married into a wealthy family.
Joanna said nothing of her suspicions, knowing that she could not prove them.
But when the two men left, finally, on the fourth day, and Patience stood waving at their carriage with a tear in her eye, Joanna knew she had been right.
And she knew that it was the biggest relief of her year to watch that carriage disappear down the driveway, out of sight of her young charge.
Chapter 17
It soon became part of their normal routine for Miss Warrick to appear in his office chamber after luncheon was concluded.
The children would retire to their own pursuits – often they could hear them, calling and whooping out on the grounds of the house, enjoying their own fun. Though he would not say to them, for fear of provoking mutiny against lessons in the future, it was pleasant to hear them having a good time again.
There had been far too little laughter in the house since the illness had come and gone.
It was Miss Warrick who continued to surprise him the most, as she had done since the first day she set foot in their home.
She was more than capable of acting as his secretary, and he even began to wonder why she had wasted herself as a governess. He did not say this out loud, since it might encourage her to seek employment elsewhere.
“What did you think, Miss Warrick?” he asked one evening, as they finished putting together the paperwork for a particularly difficult trade agreement.
“Am I a fool to offer them such a good rate? I do believe they will bring us plenty of business in the future, and it could equate to quite a fortune. Though I could ask for more in this deal, and earn more profit without risk.”
“No, sir,” Miss Warrick said quickly, shaking her head. “I see it as you are in the right. My father would often say that the best way to a secure future was to nurture the finest relationships. Although, I do not know if his advice is the best to take.”
Miss Warrick looked so low as she recalled her father’s fall from success that Edmund felt a painful pity for her.
“I believe it to be sound advice,” he said. “My own father told me much the same. There is always room for error, even when following the best possible course. The advice is not at fault.”
Miss Warrick nodded sadly.
“And what of this matter with the workers?” Edmund asked, wanting to distract her so that she might smile again. “Do you think it right to raise their wages? Their protests have been strong.”
“Certainly, sir,” Miss Warrick nodded.
“The work they have done for you and your father is good. The price of living increases from time to time, and the value of our currency may change. I think it would only be right to ensure they all have enough to support their families by.”
“You have it right,” Edmund nodded. “I thought as much myself. The older members of the company have argued that we should loss profits if we pay them more, but I think we must be fair to all men rather than greedy. The company will remain strong even with the extra expenses.”
Miss Warrick smiled and finished tidying up the papers on his desk. “Do you need me for anything else tonight?”
Edmund wanted to have an excuse to ask her to stay, but he had none left.
“No, Miss Warrick. Thank you for your work today. You may retire.”
Miss Warrick left the room, Edmund watching her go with a strange feeling in his chest.
They had such similar views on so many things that he thought it a marvel she had happened upon his home. How could he have ever chosen a more perfect governess to live with them? The more work they did together, the more in tune he felt they were.
It was a funny thing, he thought, that as he returned to his bedchamber for the night, she was the last thing on his mind in the darkness.
In the afternoon, Edmund was going through his correspondence, reading a few personal letters that had come directly from the mail coach. Miss Warrick waited by his side, ready to put pen to paper should he wish to write a response to any of his letters.
He thought to himself that he had become quite used to having her ready in such a position, and wondered, when his arm was healed, if he might struggle to remember how to do it all by himself.
One letter caught the attention more than the rest. It was sealed with a golden stamp, quite ostentatiously, and a fine script had been used to carefully detail his name and address on the envelope.
It was, in short, quite impressive.
“What an interesting envelope,” Miss Warrick remarked, watching as he pried open the seal. “They must have gone to great effort to present it so nicely.”
“Hmm,” Edmund agreed, finally getting it open.
Inside was a thick piece of card, lettered in the same script.
“It seems another of our neighbours is holding a ball. The Winsoms, this time. I suppose they felt duty-bound to invite us all, since we have started doing business together. Even Christopher and Patience are noted by name on the card.”
“When is it?” Miss Warrick asked, sitting up a little straighter in her chair.
Edmund studied the details, but then tossed it aside ont
o the pile of papers that he no longer needed.
“It matters not. We won’t be going, of course.”
He had briefly considered going, as he opened the envelope. But even as he did so, he had seen a vision swimming before his eyes:
The last ball they had attended at the Haverham’s house. He remembered how fine it was to dance with Miss Warrick, such an expert partner who never put a foot wrong. He remembered the pressure he had faced to dance with her, even when it had not been his intention.
But more than anything, he had remembered the look on her face – the bright red colour that stained her cheeks for the entirety of the experience.
As soon as he remembered that, all he could imagine in his mind’s eye was a repeat occurrence of the very same. He pictured Miss Warrick, once again drawn to dance with him against her will, and utterly embarrassed to be seen with her employer in such a way.
She would have to be there, if they were to attend, because Patience needed a chaperone. And if he was to go, then Patience would have to come. Otherwise, he would never hear the end of it.
No, the only solution was not to attend at all – none of them. That had to be the end of it.
“Oh,” Miss Warrick said, seemingly taken aback. “But… I know that Miss Patience will be most eager to attend.”
“She is still under punishment for her part in the whole pianoforte affair,” Edmund said gruffly. “Besides which, she has had her public practice now. You cannot convince me that she needs more chances to try out the dances that you learn in the schoolroom. She appears to be doing just fine.”
“Of course,” Miss Warrick nodded meekly. “And do you not wish to attend yourself, in order to take care of business matters?”
“I am injured still,” Edmund said, lifting his arm to show the splint, as if she could have forgotten. It was still tied in a silk sling around his neck.
“I would not be able to dance sufficiently, and if I am too injured to go to the city, then I am too injured to go to a ball. I hardly think the doctor would call it resting.”
“No, quite right,” Miss Warrick agreed, bending her eyes upon the table.
She had no further objections, it seemed. Well, that solidified things. It proved that she had no desire to go to any ball with him, perhaps for fear that she might be forced to dance again. Edmund knew then that he had made the right choice.
“I’ve a letter to send to Lord Winsom as it happens anyway,” Edmund said. “Take this down on a new sheet, will you?”
Miss Warrick obediently took out a new sheet of paper, and began readying her quill.
“Start with the usual honorifics,” Edmund said.
He stood from his chair and began to wander over to the window. He had taken to walking around the place while dictating to Miss Warrick, as it was more comfortable than sitting and staring at her for hours on end. At least, it felt a little less awkward.
He had to admit that one of the things he was going to miss, once his arm was healed, was this sense of freedom. Imagine, walking around a room whilst simultaneously writing a letter!
He found that he was able to think better, while his body was otherwise occupied in wandering about or looking down out of the window into the garden.
Edmund waited for the sound of Miss Warrick’s quill to stop scratching on the paper, indicating that she had begun the letter as instructed.
“I am writing to you regarding the latest development in the African colonies,” he began. “I should have thought you would be eager to learn that your investment has been flourishing, and that we now await news from the ship of its swift arrival.”
As he spoke, Edmonds looked down into the garden, following his now usual habit.
Down there, he was happy to spy Samuel wandering around on his own. He had noticed that his younger brother was becoming more adventurous of late, striking out by himself and no longer waiting for others to take the lead.
“Say, I do believe that Samuel is doing a lot better these days,” Edmund said, distracted from his letter.
Behind him, he heard a sigh. Miss Warrick laid her quill down on the table with a heavy clatter, and there was a rustling of paper. “Give me a minute, sir,” she said. “I thought you were still dictating.”
Edmund laughed. “I do apologise, Miss Warrick,” he said. “I was quite distracted. Samuel is down there, playing in the garden. He is running about like a madman, but I confess I am quite pleased to see it. He appears to be getting back into fine shape.”
“I have noticed that he is getting stronger,” Miss Warrick agreed. “I have tried to encourage him to get back into playing sports, though it is difficult considering that he has no boys of his own age to play with.”
Edmonds turned to look at her with some surprise. “Do you believe that he is well enough already to return to school with his peers?”
He had not suspected that this would be the case so soon, and had even plans for the eventuality of keeping Samuel at home for another year or more.
“Perhaps when the new school year begins,” Miss Warrick agreed. “In the meantime, I wonder if there is anyone who might be able to keep him a little more active. I would like him to build upon this new fitness and even increase it before he returns to a school environment.”
Edmund considered this. “I suppose it should normally fall to me,” he said. “Sadly, I am not much use in playing cricket or tennis with my arm in a sling. Christopher I am not expecting to see again for some time. Jenkins is too elderly. Maybe I can ask around, and see if there is anyone on the staff who has a young relative.”
“I think that would be good for him,” Miss Warrick said, smiling. “At any rate, it does him some good to run around, even if it is on his own. I am glad the weather has stayed pleasant. It had allowed him to put these afternoons to good use, while I am employed as your secretary.”
Edmund looked down out of the window again, watching Samuel pretend to fight with a broken stick as a sword.
“I’m quite grateful to you, Miss Warrick,” he said, staring down so that he would not have to turn and meet her eye.
“I have been meaning to say this for some time. It warms my heart to see Samuel brought so back to life. I had begun to lose hope that he would ever return to his former self, and yet here he is; not so far away as he once was.”
“It is my purpose to raise all of them, in all areas,” Miss Warrick said. “I would not be doing my job correctly if I did not instruct him in fitness as well as in more studious subjects. He is a capable boy, and very eager. He only needed a little push.”
Edmund watched him a little longer, thinking all the while about how lucky they were.
Despite her modest words, he knew exactly who he had to thank for Samuel’s turnaround.
If he had not employed Miss Warrick those months ago, then the poor boy would still be sickly and pale. Already there was more meat on his bones, and he no longer needed to sit every quarter of the hour.
That was Miss Warrick’s work, and hers alone.
Chapter 18
A school morning rose, and Joanna always found that she was more eager than ever to wake up in the morning and hurry down to her duties.
She had never believed that she would find such a purpose in life as she did now, knowing that the children depended on her for their education.
Indeed, it was such a pleasure to complete her duties each day that there was no longer any reason for her to hide away.
After finishing Edmund’s letters and paperwork for the day, and dining with the other servants, she would then retire to the sitting room.
She had taken up sewing a few little things for herself now that she had her wages saved up, and was completely happy to sit in the quiet room in Edmund’s company, simply sewing until her fingers were sore and she decided to retire for the night.
He had raised no objection to her being there, and their silence was no longer the awkward quiet between employer and employee.
It was t
he comfortable silence of two people who had already conversed readily throughout the day, and now had no need to say any more while they relaxed.
There were no longer any problems with Patience. Samuel was getting healthier each week, and Amy was as eager and sweet as ever.
Joanna found herself wondering if things could ever be more perfect than they were.
And when a traitorous voice in the back of her head whispered that it would be more joyous if the children were her children, and she the lady of the house, she chose to ignore it.