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

by Fanny Finch

  Thea was exhausted from arguing when she knew her sister’s self-righteous reasons were entirely justified. Could she debate when her sister lived a life of charity and grace? Additionally, there was no one living nearby seeking a governess, which defeated the whole purpose.

  Perhaps it was merely her own frustration that she had no hopes for herself. She truly would grow to become a burden. Her father, who worked so hard, and her mother who was already taking care of him. What did they need Thea for?

  “I suppose you’re right. And you are not alone. I know I ought to be looking for work as well,” Thea conceded. She loved being with her family and would be sad to leave them, but she also knew that it was time to be off and begin her future.

  “Well, clearly it is taking time. You shall have me for a good deal longer it would seem. Perhaps you will find work before me,” Delia replied, wrapping her arm around Thea’s and resting her head on her sister’s shoulder. They continued to watch out the open door, seeing their father grow smaller and smaller by the moment.

  Thea hoped that this meeting would truly be the one to change all their fortunes.

  Chapter 2

  Finishing his breakfast, Joseph Tyndale, the Duke of Sandon, excused himself and stood slowly, nodding to his mother.

  “And where are you off to in such a hurry?” she inquired.

  “I have a meeting, Mother. About the new property. It must be furnished if we are to have guests or even stay there ourselves, do you not think?” he pointed out.

  “So, are you meeting with someone regarding the home?” she pressed.

  “Yes, Mother. The Duke of Arborshire arranged it for me. There is a gentleman who works with nobility to arrange their homes,” he explained, showing slight frustration at his mother’s nagging.

  “A gentleman?” she said, needing to question him further.

  “A merchant, Mother. He is a merchant. He sells fabrics. I will choose those which I want for my new property. For curtains, for bedding, for the cushions on the chairs of the dining room set. All of it. He has contacts with which everything will be designed and produced, Mother,” the Duke of Sandon replied, trying to restrain himself from yelling. He had grown tired of her insistence upon questioning him.

  The Duke of Sandon had tried to remain a good son. He had done everything she wanted from him, and yet she was never happy, primarily because of a decision he had yet to make.

  “You know, if you were married, your wife would take care of all of these things and you would be able to focus on far more important things, Joseph,” she said, finally expressing what she had really meant to say from the beginning of the conversation.

  “Yes, Mother, I know this,” he spoke slowly and deliberately, gritting his teeth with each word.

  “I only mean to remind you that this is the duty of a wife, not a duke. And if you were married-”

  “I know, Mother. And I am sorry for not having found a wife yet. But I do keep quite busy and I am generally in circles visited merely by men,” he reminded her.

  “Oh, but there are some lovely balls in London during the season. Why have you not made more of an effort?” she whined.

  The Duke of Sandon sighed. “Mother, if it should please you, then in three weeks’ time, when the season begins, I shall attend every ball which I am able,” he assured her.

  “That’s my boy,” she replied with a patronizing smile. The Duke of Sandon sighed again and made his way out of his mother’s dining room. As he left the house, he grabbed his hat and his favorite coat for business meetings. The driver opened the door to the coach and the Duke of Sandon got in.

  The ride to his new estate just outside of Cambridge was longer than he would have liked, but knew that the man he was going to meet would likely have a less comfortable ride getting there.

  However, upon arrival, he found that Mr. Caulfield was already at the estate and seemed not in the least bit inconvenienced, despite having traveled with a large portfolio of samples and drawings of potential furniture designs.

  “Mr. Caulfield, I thank you for meeting with me,” the Duke of Sandon greeted.

  “Your Grace,” Mr. Caulfield replied with a bow to the duke.

  “Please, do come in. We have a few chairs upon which we may sit,” the Duke of Sandon said with a slight laugh.

  The staff at the nearly empty home welcomed the two men and prepared tea for them at a large dining room table with six chairs, one of the only pieces of furniture in the whole house.

  “Well, we do have our work cut out for us, do we not?” Mr. Caulfield said in good humor.

  “Indeed, Mr. Caulfield, it would seem that we do. I think, however, that based upon my friend, the Duke of Arborshire’s recommendation of you, we shall have it all come together in due course,” the Duke of Sandon said readily.

  “Well, I am humbled by the Duke of Arborshire’s praise. He is an excellent man. How did the two of you become acquainted, might I inquire?” Mr. Caulfield asked, taking a sip of the hot tea.

  “We both attended Cambridge University and our first meeting was there. But our friendship continued over a shared love of fencing,” the duke replied. “And how is it that the Duke of Arborshire came to acquire your talents, Mr. Caulfield?”

  “Oh, the general way, the same as I have come to you. One happy customer begets another, I suppose,” Mr. Caulfield answered.

  Polite conversation continued but soon the tea cups were empty. The Duke of Sandon perceived Mr. Caulfield was too kind to waste his time in accepting a third so they got down to business.

  “What I have here are the samples. And these are designs, broken into sections such as bedroom, parlor, et cetera. Now, for the fabrics, are you thinking brocades or solids throughout?” he inquired.

  The Duke of Sandon was at a loss, overwhelmed by having to make these types of decisions. He ought to have simply hired someone, but knowing his mother, it wouldn’t have done.

  Her taste was so specific that the Duke of Sandon knew any hired person could not quite handle the woman’s distaste as he might be able to. And the thought of asking her to choose was unreasonable as she would then simply blame him for not having a wife to do it herself.

  “Mr. Caulfield, I fear that I am ill-equipped for this. I do think that brocades might do better as a theme throughout the home, but I cannot imagine it would be comfortable for the bedding,” he thought out loud.

  He perceived that Mr. Caulfield did not wish to insult him, and the man was proceeding carefully.

  “That is of no concern, Your Grace. We have entirely different options for fabrics of a more comfortable nature, primarily cottons,” he explained politely.

  The Duke of Sandon nodded.

  Finally, they had narrowed down the selection to three brocades that the Duke of Sandon thought his mother would approve of before they moved on to satins. The Duke of Sandon was still overwhelmed and wished he didn’t have to do all of this on his own.

  “Forgive me, Your Grace, but what do you think your wife will think of these options? Will the duchess approve?” Mr. Caulfield inquired hopefully. The Duke of Sandon could see that what he really wanted to know was whether the mistress of the house would recommend him to her fashionable, high status friends.

  “Indeed, Mr. Caulfield, I am not yet married. So, thus far, the only duchess who shall be seeing this home and require approval is my mother and, to be sure, she approves of very little,” the Duke of Sandon said with a laugh. “Having said that, while her tastes are rather distinguished, the quality of your materials speaks for itself, and I imagine she will speak highly of you to those willing to listen.”

  Mr. Caulfield seemed pacified for the most part. But he did, then, say something for which the Duke of Sandon could not have been prepared.

  “Your Grace, I understand that I am but a humble merchant. I know well that it is not the custom of great men such as yourself to engage with simple merchants in fashionable society. However, it would be a great delight to me if y
ou would concede to dine at the home of a man so far below your station as myself,” Mr. Caulfield invited, bowing his head slightly and closing his eyes in reverence, hiding his mischievous grin.

  The Duke of Sandon was both intrigued and astonished, for merchants never had the gall to invite a duke to their homes. And perhaps that very courage was what endeared Mr. Caulfield to the Duke of Sandon so intensely.

  He smiled at the man whose head was still bowed.

  “Mr. Caulfield, I should enjoy that very much,” the Duke of Sandon replied.

  If you want to find out how the story continues, then Click on the link below!

  http://fannyfinch.com/amb009

  A Preview of my Next Novel

  Chapter 1

  “Why are you so utterly obsessed by this idea of Italy?” Mrs. Caulfield asked in exasperation.

  Georgette could feel her mother’s eyes on her, wide with frustration as they had already had this conversation a number of times.

  As Georgette remained sitting on the brocade sofa in the parlor, her mother was pacing back and forth. Her fingers played with the pearls around her neck, and her gown swished at its base where it was weighed down by the satin cabbage roses sewn there.

  “Mama, it is the place for culture. Everyone says so. The Doyles, the Kingharts, and even Miss Franklin,” Georgette expressed.

  “Ugh, Miss Franklin! What does a governess know of culture? I ought to have known it was that silly woman filling your head with all these ideas of travel and fancy. Can you even imagine it?” Mrs. Caulfield asked, more to herself than to her daughter.

  “I do not understand, Mother. Last time we spoke, you said that Father would be thrilled with the idea. And the time before that, you said that it was unlikely but seemed wise,” Georgette reminded her.

  It was clear that her mother did not appreciate such a reminder.

  “Well then…” she began with a sigh. “I suppose I did say those things, now, didn’t I? But you must understand that badgering me as you do is simply not the way to go about it. The more you press me, the less happy I am about the idea. It seems to me that you already have a culture of independence,” Mrs. Caulfield pointed out dramatically.

  Georgette watched her mother continue to pace. With her green eyes, mirroring those of her sisters, she could not help but follow her mother’s movements with curiosity.

  She missed the days when she was the one being such an actress. To see it from a grown woman was simply embarrassing. And while Georgette made every effort to remain respectful towards her parents, she could not deny that she had lost much of the care she had once had for them.

  As their situation had changed, and the Caulfields had grown wealthy, she had seen their behavior plummet. From loving parents, to those who would use and discard their daughters at will, seemed an impossibility. And yet, it had been so.

  Their elder brother, Thomas, had all but abandoned his parents when their status elevated his as well. Christopher, Georgette’s twin, was still very much involved with the family in theory, but he was away at university studying medicine just now. With their sons doing so well, Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield could only focus on controlling their daughters.

  “I suppose I shall speak with you father once more,” Mrs. Caulfield declared, apparently relenting to Georgette’s desires and remembering the reasons she had previously been supportive.

  “Thank you, Mama,” Georgette said with a relieved grin.

  “You are correct that it would be wise for us to expose you to culture and all that, I suppose. It would make you more valuable, to be sure. I mean, it will give you something to speak about with potential suitors and they will see something mysterious in you,” Mrs. Caulfield noted.

  This was not a reason Georgette cared to consider. She hated the thought of being a commodity, but their father had spent many years as a merchant, so she figured it was only to be assumed that she would be treated thus.

  “Yes, I suppose so,” she managed to reply.

  “The only issue, dear, is that I do not think your father will be able to take the time away from his own business. You know what an important man he is there. Without him, the whole company might even collapse!” Mrs. Caulfield exaggerated.

  Georgette nodded as if genuinely concerned. She knew the truth of the matter. Her father was, indeed, vital to the company. However, it was the very fact of him being such a good business man that he was able to take off time. He had trained his staff well.

  What he really didn’t want, in being away, was to miss out on the recognition of his efforts. He rather enjoyed the gentleman’s club that he often attended with other men of high society. He had even rubbed shoulders often with a few barons and a duke, he remarked.

  These were the pleasures of his new wealth that caused her father to hate the idea of being away. If he was not going about Cambridge, he was finding his way to London. Anything other than those two cities and he was entirely at a loss for how to flaunt his name.

  “Yes, it is a very grave struggle,” she remarked, flicking back a piece of the nearly black hair that had fallen into her face. “I know Papa is very important and loves to work hard. But maybe if he is able to get away for just a few days... It might be good for him to take a break.”

  Mrs. Caulfield seemed to be considering this. Perhaps it really could be good for him.

  “Alright then, I shall discuss it with him again this evening and see what he says,” she finally decided.

  Georgette was relieved knowing that her persistence seemed to be proving useful. If she could truly convince her parents to allow her to go to Italy, she felt as though her life might never be the same again.

  Georgette could not quite explain her reasons for wanting to go so desperately. She knew no one from Italy. She knew very little about the country, save what she had read about it in books. But Miss Franklin had described what she saw when she traveled there once before with a former charge. She insisted it was the very place for all young women to go and that Georgette had to experience it immediately.

  And from that day onwards, she had been obsessed by the thought. All she could think about was going to Italy and seeing the beauty of it.

  As the day wore on, Georgette could not control herself. Patience was far from her and she wished only for the moment in which she might hear an answer. If that answer was a positive one, then she would not manage to keep her feet on the ground, for her joy would sweep her away.

  Miss Franklin began Georgette’s studies for the day and noticed that there was something quite changed with her.

  “Oh, Miss Franklin, Mama is going to ask Papa again about Italy! Can you imagine it? I really might get to go! We might finally be able to spend some time away from here and get to see the beauty of everything you have told me about,” Georgette exclaimed.

  Miss Franklin seemed excited as well. “Truly? You believe we shall go?”

  Georgette nodded enthusiastically, knowing that her governess would also be thrilled to chaperone another trip to the country that had quite charmed her. It was not only a treat for Georgette, but for all who would attend the journey with her.

  “That is very good news, indeed, Miss Caulfield. Now, we had best put our excitement aside and begin your classes,” the governess instructed, evidently trying to get her own thoughts on the right path as well.

  Georgette spent the next few hours working on the French language, and comportment. She crossed the room several times with a board strapped to her back so that she might remain straight as she walked. It was terribly uncomfortable, but she had grown used to it.

  Georgette thought about her sisters who never had to suffer through these things. Thea was married off before the family found riches, and Delia had been cast aside, having become a governess and being considered not worthy of the family name. Of course, both of them went on to make quite spectacular matches in marriage.

  A merchant’s daughter was now a duchess and a governess had become a countess. If they had
both managed such a feat, who would Georgette become?

  This thought distracted her and Georgette failed to realize that she had been trailing a little to the left. Her foot caught and she stumbled forward.

  “Oh dear! That won’t do at all, Miss Caulfield,” Miss Franklin tutted.

  Georgette released a sigh of frustration.

  She didn’t want to marry. At least, not any of the men her mother and father were certain to choose.

  She didn’t wish to become a duchess or a countess. Not even a baroness. Her sisters had been fortunate, but she might not be. It did her no good to hope that she might stumble upon a man who was so good as those had been. No, she was not likely to find that at all.