The Redemption of the Puzzling Governess: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance

by Fanny Finch

  “Not in the slightest,” Mr. Rogers replied. Then turning to the stone, he sighed.

  “My darling, Mrs. Rogers, we have a guest with us today,” he began. “I’ve no doubt that you would remember the Earl of Dulshire? Of course, now you are with the saints, perhaps you do not recall those who are important on earth…”

  The Earl tried to refrain from chuckling at this. He was delighted to listen to the talk the Mr. Rogers continued with his wife. Although he felt like a rather strange spectator, he knew that he could learn from this a great deal. Perhaps if he tried to speak to his own wife in such a way, he might feel better.

  Once breakfast had finished and his tea had been drained, the Earl took his leave, thanking the Reverend for the time spent.

  “I wish you the best of days, Mr. Rogers,” he said.

  “And to you as well, my lord. Shall we see you on Sunday?” he asked.

  “Of course, Mr. Rogers,” he replied.

  With that, the Earl returned to his home, moving on to the plans for the day ahead. His spirit had been drastically lifted and he appreciated the Reverend more than ever.

  Still he had to wonder, could he ever truly forgive himself?

  Chapter 7

  Standing tall and straight, Delia paced in front of Grace while dictating what the child had to write.

  “He took great form…” she said, pausing to allow Grace a moment to catch up. “…and held up his right hand…striking all within his path.”

  Delia stopped and walked over to Grace. She took the paper in her hands and began to read what the child had written.

  “Miss Grace, this is not the correct spelling of ‘right’. You have written w-r-i-t-e which is the word for writing. Tell me, what other forms of spelling can we use for this word that sounds the same?” she asked.

  Grace looked at her with disappointment. Delia had to acknowledge that the child had been working very hard. She had come such a long way in the short time they had worked together. She was terribly delighted by Grace’s improvement.

  “My dear Miss Grace, do not be overly concerned. I am merely asking if you can think of another word or other spellings?” Delia asked gently.

  “Do you mean r-i-g-h-t, Miss Caulfield?” she asked.

  “Indeed, Miss Grace! You are quite brilliant,” Delia encouraged, bringing a lot of joy to Grace’s face.

  “You must tell your father how wonderful you are,” Delia continued in her praise.

  “Papa? But I scarcely see him at all. Perhaps you might tell him if he is at dinner this evening?” Grace inquired hopefully.

  Delia felt her face fall at this. How was it that the child’s father saw her only at the occasional mealtime?

  “Miss Grace, whatever do you mean? Are you to tell me that you do not see your father save for when we eat together?” Delia asked.

  “Of course, Miss Caulfield. Do you see your papa more than that?” she asked innocently.

  Delia knew that her own father was not a man she was seeing much of late. And yet the knowledge that Grace, an eight-year-old child, was not having time with her father was simply horrible. Delia was angered by the fact.

  “Is there no other time that your father makes to spend time with you?” she asked.

  “Whatever do you mean, Miss Caulfield? Papa sees me sometimes at the meal. That is all,” Grace replied nonchalantly.

  Delia felt her breath catch in her throat. It was not in the least what she had wanted to hear. Grace deserved a loving father and all children deserved. How could such a wealthy man, a man of great position in society, dare to be unloving towards his own kin?

  “Well then. I suppose I shall have to speak with your father about that,” Delia said softly, drawing a quizzical look from Grace. She didn’t bother to respond to the look, but rather considered what sort of plan she might make to ensure that the child was not treated this way again.

  Not that it was any place of Delia’s, of course. The Earl of Dulshire was her employer. He paid her to teach and care for his daughter, not to lecture him on fatherhood. And yet, she would not be able to remain silent on the topic and knew it.

  “Now, let us move onto mathematics, shall we?” Delia said, trying to continue the lesson. Grace was evidently not enjoying the time, but it was Delia’s duty to ensure that the child learned at least basic mathematics anyway.

  After a while, Amy entered the room and began cleaning. Mrs. Andrews soon followed and gave Delia a series of disapproving glares.

  Delia made every effort to ignore the glaring and continued on with Grace. It was not easy to teach when she felt as though she was being judged by Mrs. Andrews. The woman’s disapproval was evident and distracting.

  “This is rather dirty,” Mrs. Andrews grumbled as she dusted the bookshelves.

  “Children ought to be reading enough to prevent this,” she added under her breath, loud enough that Delia could hear. Delia understood that it was meant to be a criticism of her, that she was not making enough of an effort to ensure that her charge was reading.

  But as the woman continued in her duties, Delia continued in her own as well. Amy glanced between the two now and then and would end with a silent laugh upon catching Delia’s eye. The two of them shared the private joke of what a horror Mrs. Andrews truly was.

  Once the two maids left the room, Delia was more at ease. Upon completion of Grace’s studies, they decided to spend some time out of doors. It was Delia’s great belief that children needed fresh air as often as possible.

  “Do you enjoy the gardens?” Delia asked her charge.

  “Yes, Miss Caulfield. But I do prefer the horses. Papa has instructed that I might go near them but he does not wish for me to ride at present,” Grace answered in her proper manner.

  “Oh? And why is that?” Delia asked, curious.

  “My former governess, Miss Dickens, told me that it’s because Papa doesn’t want me to be dead like Mama,” Grace replied as a matter of fact.

  Delia was horrified that the previous governess would have said something so callous to a child. True or not, there were better ways to word things. And it gave Delia some sense as to why Grace spoke in a manner beyond her years. The former had not allowed her to be a child.

  “I am sorry, my dear,” Delia said softly.

  “So am I. Miss Dickens told me not to be a fool about it. She said that I should be fine without Mama and that it wasn’t right for me to be sad as I never met her anyways,” Grace told her.

  “I do not believe such things,” Delia replied, trying to turn her anger at Miss Dickens into compassion for Grace. “I believe that you may be as sad as you like, so long as you are willing to be comforted.”

  “That sounds like a better idea,” Grace replied.

  Delia smiled. She knew that for a child growing up in propriety like this, she must agree to whatever she was told. But if Delia could tell her that her grief was justified, it was well worth it.

  “Now tell me, dear-” Delia began. But she was caught off guard when she realized that she was being watched quite closely.

  One of the parlor maids was standing, talking conspiratorially, with two of the stable boys. They were watching Delia and Grace and laughing. It was rather clear that they were mocking Delia for being so close to the child. And the laughter suggested that there was something more. Something Delia did not wish to know.

  “Yes, Miss?” Grace said, waiting for Delia to finish her thought.

  “Are you hungry?” Delia asked, turning to the child and smiling.

  “Oh yes, Miss Caulfield. I should love a sweet if you would allow it,” Grace answered.

  “I shall not only allow it, my dear. I shall insist upon it,” Delia said mischievously, eliciting a giggle from Grace.

  They made their way back indoors and Grace was left in the dining room with Amy.

  Delia made her way down the hall to the Earl’s study. She inhaled a deep breath before knocking.

  “Yes?” he called from the other side
of the door. Delia opened and was embarrassed when the Earl immediately stood upon seeing her. It was as if he felt excited somehow by her appearance.

  “My lord,” she said, curtseying gently.

  “Miss Caulfield. Please do have a seat,” he instructed, gesturing towards the chair.

  Delia sat and straightened her skirts. The Earl watched her and smiled in a way that unnerved her.

  “Forgive me for this intrusion, my lord,” she apologized.

  “It is no intrusion. Indeed, you are always welcome in my study while I am here,” he replied.

  His response was so genuine that Delia had no doubt at all that he meant it. She was humbled by his expression to her.

  “Now, what may I do for you?” he asked.

  “My lord, you must forgive what I am to say as it is entirely not my place to say it,” Delia began. The Earl looked at her with a sudden misgiving.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “It is in regards to your daughter, Miss Grace, my lord,” she said. The expression on his face told Delia that he knew already what she was going to say.

  “Yes, my daughter. Of course,” he replied dryly.

  “She tells me that she sees you only the very rarest of occasions. At mealtimes only. And even then, only the mealtimes for which you are present. That is perhaps three or four times a week, my lord,” Delia informed him.

  “You think I am unaware of how often I eat here?” the Earl asked defensively.

  Delia breathed deeply, knowing that she was taking a grave risk.

  “I am not suggesting that at all, my lord. I am suggesting that perhaps you might consider that your daughter should like to eat with you more frequently. And that beyond meal times, she would like to see you on occasion,” Delia told him.

  The Earl’s face began to turn pink with embarrassment. An embarrassed titled man was the last thing that Delia desired to deal with. As the employee, she was in no position at all to risk his humiliation.

  “So you, an employee of my home, would judge my actions as a father?” he spat at her.

  “Forgive me once more, my lord. But truly, someone must suggest to you the necessity of growing closer to her,” Delia said. “And while I understand that you would have every right to dismiss me for choosing to do so, it cannot stop me from speaking nonetheless.”

  “And why is that? Why should you risk your position to tell me how I ought to run my affairs?” he challenged.

  “Because I care very deeply for your daughter, my lord. Because Grace is a delightful child and I would see her happy if I could,” Delia replied evenly.

  The Earl seemed to soften ever so slightly at this.

  “I can see that you do care very deeply for my daughter. That is exactly what I wish for in a governess,” he said finally.

  “And I should like to see the care that you have for her as well,” Delia told him, aware that she was still over the line.

  “Yes. Perhaps I could show it better. And perhaps this is not the first time of late that I have considered that,” the Earl of Dulshire confessed.

  “I am rather glad to hear that, my lord,” Delia said, exhaling.

  “Now, please do be comfortable. I must ask you how you came to be such a brash young woman,” the Earl asked with a hint of laughter.

  “Oh goodness, my lord, I hardly know where to begin. I have not ever been considered brash. Perhaps I am simply passionate when it comes to children. And I understand that to many, being passionate is not a good thing,” Delia replied.

  “But when it comes to children, I would have to say it is an excellent thing. You are exactly the sort of governess a father would want for exactly that reason, Miss Caulfield. So please, do not consider it a flaw,” he said with a smile.

  Delia felt overwhelmed. She had not anticipated the Earl to grow calm so quickly as this. She had never expected that for the following hour, they might discuss matters of all manner.

  But Delia enjoyed every moment. She appreciated when the Earl laughed and she understood when he was disappointed.

  Upon the conclusion of their discussion, the Earl smiled at her once more, and Delia left the room.

  Her heart swelled with the promise of something new to come.

  Chapter 8

  On his way to a meeting the Earl of Dulshire was enjoying the walk into town. He gazed at some of the shops he passed and wondered what his new governess might think of some of them. He wondered if she had ever been to such shops before.

  The Earl could not deny that she had made a deep impression upon him. Although the guilt was overwhelming, he also wished to consider that he, too, was deserving of happiness.

  Traipsing past one shop, he looked in the windows at the many gowns that were held. Knowing that it would be entirely inappropriate for him to make a purchase on behalf of his new employee, the Earl pushed away thoughts of gifts. Nevertheless, it was tempting, the idea of getting something special for Miss Caufield.

  Despite this temptation, the Earl continued his walk. He continued to allow his thoughts to linger on her. He allowed himself to indulge in the thought that, perhaps, they could indeed enjoy one another’s company. Perhaps they might even interact as more than employer and employee.

  A foolish thought it was and the Earl knew that well. Still, he enjoyed considering such a luxury.

  Grace had certainly seemed delighted under Miss Caulfield’s tutelage. She was thriving in a way that he had never seen before. No former governess had ever been such a delight to the child.

  And in that moment, the Earl considered a different sort of gift. He considered the gift of truly being a father. He considered making a purchase for his daughter, something special that he had never gotten for her before.

  Certainly Grace was used to being indulged. And yet despite all of those indulgences, none from her father had ever been through gifts of love. Everything that he had given to Grace had been a matter of duty. But now he wished to give her something special.

  Could it be that this was a turning point? Could it be that perhaps the Earl had decided to let his daughter have the father that she so deserved?

  Indeed, Miss Caulfield and Mr. Rogers had certainly made an impact on his thoughts in this arena. They had truly caused him to consider that he could be a better father.

  Unexpectedly, as the Earl turned a corner, he bumped into a man. Shocked, he realized it was a man he had not seen for quite some time. A man he had no desire to see.

  A man who had nearly cost him everything.

  “Well good day to you, my lord,” Mr. Winston Eldridge greeted.

  “Yes, and a good day to you as well,” the Earl of Dulshire replied, eager to move on.

  “And what is it that has you out on such a lovely day?” Mr. Eldridge asked, not allowing him to escape. A smirk in his eyes told the Earl that there was clearly still an intense amount of animosity between the two of them. Still a hatred lingered that would not be dissolved.

  “I happen to be on my way to a meeting,” the Earl replied cautiously.

  “Oh, a meeting? And what sort of meeting is that?” Mr. Eldridge asked.

  “Simply business,” the Earl replied.

  “Oh yes, and we all know how much you enjoy your business. Indeed, I do believe that your business tends to be the thing that you love most in this world,” Mr. Eldridge accused.

  The slight did not go unnoticed, but Mr. Eldridge knew well that the Earl would not speak against him. He knew well that the Earl was a man who would allow for these insults as a result of his own shame.

  “One might think so,” The Earl replied. “But one would be wrong. In fact, I do believe that my life has taken quite a turn of late.”

  “Indeed?” Mr. Eldridge asked. “And what sort of turn is that? The sort of turn that requires a man to faces past faults?”

  “Indeed, the sort of turn that causes a father to love his child as he never did before,” the Earl replied.

  “Ah yes, his daughter,” Mr. Eldridge said in
a mocking tone. “And would that be the daughter that my sister gave you? Would that be the daughter that you have never shown the remotest affection for? Indeed, a part of me wonders if you love her even less than you did your late wife.”

  At that moment that Earl recognized that his enemy had gone too far. The statement was entirely inappropriate and unfair and unfounded. And yet, Mr. Eldridge smugly rejoiced in his victory. A man lesser than he, a man of good repute but no great wealth or title.