The Key to the Governess's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  “And your mother? Does she come often?” Lady Seton asked.

  “She does not. But now and then, she will visit. She was never very fond of the season and would find excuses to miss it when she was able,” he said with a laugh.

  “Oh? Why is that?” Lady Seton asked, sounding surprised.

  “I believe it was all of the gossip and bickering. She is a kind, sociable woman, but she does prefer to keep to herself in many circumstances,” he said.

  “I see. I fear that I am quite the opposite. I love the season and will attend as many balls as I am invited to,” she said.

  Peter nodded, knowing that was quite normal for young women of society. And, although his mother had often refrained from attending, she had approved of him going with his father now and then for the sake of appearances.

  Peter had enjoyed one or two balls throughout the seasons when he had attended, but he had never wanted more than that. Perhaps he was a little like his own mother in that regard.

  By the time they arrived at the park, Peter was more than happy to be by Lady Seton’s side.

  Even if she was not the one that he had been searching for—in the way that Miss Cloud had been everything he would have wanted in a woman—she was a decent enough young lady. He really believed that he could be happy with her. That is, he could be happy so long as he put aside all thoughts of anyone else.

  “Well, it appears that we were not the only ones to have had this thought today,” Lady Seton said, observing the other couples mingling around the park.

  “Yes, I think you are right. Is it too busy? Would you like to come another time?” Peter asked.

  “Oh no, certainly not. I was only making an observation,” she said.

  Peter was slightly disappointed. He didn’t particularly want to wander around the park. It was all a hub for gossip, everyone seeing who was with whom. He didn’t like being another bit of fodder for the vultures of society.

  “So, how is your father? Is he well?” Peter asked, not knowing what sort of conversation to make with her.

  “Oh, yes, very well. He is rather busy with his work,” she said.

  “That’s good. I am glad that he manages to stay busy,” Peter said.

  They grew quiet and it was uncomfortable. Peter tried to think of what he should ask her, how he could get to know her.

  “So, you must tell me more about yourself. If we are to be married, I am sure that there are things we will learn about one another with time. But until then, I would like to know more. Anything you care to share,” he said.

  Lady Seton seemed to be thinking about it for a moment before she spoke up.

  “I enjoy dancing. I am quite accomplished when it comes to art and language. I speak French and Italian, and I am also skilled with needlework,” she said.

  It was all very generic, but the hobbies that Lady Seton listed were the same sort of things that he would have expected from a respectable young woman. She was similar to nearly every other young lady that he had ever met, although he could hardly fault her for that.

  She was just doing what she had been trained to do.

  The sad part about it was that he didn’t feel that he had learned anything new about her. What was he supposed to think when she was exactly like every other young lady?

  “Well, I am sure that you excel at each of those,” he said.

  “I do try. My father says that I am a tremendous student, always willing to learn,” she said.

  “That is an excellent way to be,” he replied.

  “And you? What do you enjoy? What sort of activities?” she asked.

  “I enjoy many of the same things as every other man,” he said, laughing. “But in addition to those I am also very fond of taking long walks in the countryside, oftentimes with my mother. And I do like to help out in the stables, grooming the horses.”

  “Really? Why would you do such…dirty tasks?” she asked.

  Peter shrugged.

  “I like to be with the horses. I cannot call it a hobby, but I enjoy it now and then as an excuse to spend time with them,” Peter said.

  “Well, I suppose that is a nice thing to do,” Lady Seton said, although Peter could tell that she thought it was a strange thing.

  As much as he liked Lady Seton, he did not feel a strong romantic connection to her. She was sweet and beautiful, but that didn’t create the spark that he would have hoped for in a wife.

  She was everything that he should hope for, and yet something was missing.

  A short distance away, Peter could see Andrew with his sister. It was clear that Andrew had seen them already, judging by the way he looked shyly off in the distance.

  But Peter was not going to allow him the chance to avoid them. He needed his friend and he didn’t want there to be trouble from the fact that Andrew had got along so well with Lady Seton.

  With that, Peter began to lead Lady Seton towards him.

  “Lord Beckridge! How good to see you,” he greeted, his friendly demeanour unrelenting.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Hawthorn, Lady Seton,” Andrew said.

  “And Lady Beckridge, very nice to see you as well. Is your brother out here, scaring off any prospects?” Peter teased.

  “Always, Lord Seton. He hardly does anything else,” she replied, laughing.

  Lady Seton chuckled as well, but Peter saw Andrew look at her for a moment too long and then she looked away from him, shyly.

  The look between them was not lost on Peter, but he chose not to let it bother him. After all, had he not been looking at another woman as well? And was that woman not a very dear friend of his betrothed?

  “Well, I hear congratulations are in order. You are to be married soon, are you not?” Lady Beckridge asked.

  “Indeed. Just three months from now,” Peter said, looking at Lady Seton and smiling. She smiled back and he hoped that was really was happy about the arrangement. After all, he would have been terribly disappointed to learn that she didn’t want to marry him but was being forced into it.

  “Indeed, just a short time,” Lady Seton added.

  “We are very happy for the both of you,” Andrew said, his eyes lingering on Lady Seton.

  “Thank you. It is greatly appreciated,” she said in reply.

  “Well, I do hope that you are both working hard to find my brother a match. I don’t know what we shall do with him if he continues on unmarried. As he will not allow me to find anyone, our poor mother and father are going to be utterly without grandchildren,” Lady Beckridge teased.

  “I am certain that he will find an ideal woman in time. Your brother is an excellent, most loyal friend and man. You needn’t be concerned about it,” Peter said.

  “Thank you,” Andrew said, smiling at Peter. It was clear that he had needed to hear those words and, once more, Peter wondered if he had done something wrong by continuing in his engagement to Lady Seton when it was clear that Andrew cared for her.

  But society hardly paid attention to the matches that men and women wanted for themselves. That was not half as important as the match that would benefit a family’s status or financial situation.

  “Well, it was nice to see you both, but we ought to be finishing our walk before we get home for lunch,” Andrew said.

  “Of course. Enjoy your afternoon,” Peter said.

  With that, Andrew and his sister departed, leaving Peter and Lady Seton behind to continue their walk.

  “He is a very good man,” Peter said.

  “Yes, he seems to be,” she replied. There was something in her tone that made Peter wonder if the conversation on the night of the party had been as illuminating for her as it had seemed to have been for Andrew.

  As lovely as the conversation that Peter had had with Miss Cloud.

  “I trust that you are enjoying the walk?” Peter asked, still feeling the stiffness that existed between them.

  “I am, yes. Thank you. A walk was an excellent idea,” she said.

  “And your father
approved of it quickly,” Peter said.

  “My father is very excited about our marriage. He was so fond of your father and he thinks you are a tremendous man. I have scarcely seen him so excited about family affairs as he is about our marriage,” Lady Seton said.

  “That is very kind. I don’t know that I deserve that,” he said.

  “Well, I have not had the chance to get to know you very well yet, but from everything that my father says, you certainly are deserving of it. You seem to be a very good man. He speaks highly of you. He has told me that you are generous and kind-hearted. I can hardly imagine anything more that a woman might want in a husband,” she said.

  “If that is the case, I am honoured to be your husband. But only so long as you also consent. It is not merely your father’s opinion that I care about. I want to marry a woman who is also happy about the match,” Peter said.

  “I am happy. I am. We shall be a good match. I thoroughly believe that,” Lady Seton said.

  “That is very well then and we are decided. I am glad to know that you trust me enough to make that sort of commitment,” Peter said.

  But even as the words escaped his lips, he felt like a fraud. After all, did he mean what he was saying?

  Or would he always think back to the one night in his life when he had felt a true attraction?

  Chapter 7

  Beatrice was busy with her charges when she heard the sound of a coach approaching. She had no doubt that it was her dear friend, having just come back from another date with Lord Hawthorn.

  The outings were becoming more frequent, but they were not getting any easier for Beatrice to handle. She failed to make her heart recognise that Isla was out with the man that she had so enjoyed getting to know.

  But that was quite a foolish notion. After all, it was not as though Beatrice could ever be with a man from such a superior station to her own.

  No, she had to move forward with her own life. Surely, she had better ambitions than simply waiting around and hoping that some nobleman would sweep her off her feet. Beatrice was proud of the fact that she was better than that.

  Still, when Isla came inside and stood in the doorway of the schoolroom, Beatrice was relieved. After all, her friend didn’t exactly look happy.

  Not that it was a good thing that she looked unhappy, but a small part of Beatrice still hoped that the engagement would not proceed.

  The moment that thought crossed her mind, Beatrice mentally chastised herself. It was such a foolish idea. She wanted Isla to be happy. Calling off the wedding was an impossible and ridiculous notion.

  She wanted to be a better friend than that. Isla’s happiness was surely more important than Beatrice’s impossible dreams of romance.

  “All right, now you must get to your nurse. I do believe that you have baths this afternoon,” Beatrice told the two younger girls.

  They scampered off, both excited by the prospect of their baths.

  “Want to come in?” Beatrice asked Isla.

  Isla nodded, but was still quiet as she came into the room and took a seat on Cecile’s chair.

  “Did you have your walk in Hyde Park with Lord Hawthorn?” Beatrice asked.

  “Yes, I did. We walked around and it was beautiful, of course. The park was lovely. There were so many people, but we only saw a few friends,” Isla said.

  “You don’t seem happy,” Beatrice said.

  “Don’t I? That is strange. I had a lovely time. Lord Hawthorn is a perfectly good and ideal man. Honestly, he is truly what a woman ought to seek in a husband. Handsome, kind, gentle. He has not the arrogance of so many others who share his position. No offense to my father, of course, but earls are often rather proud people. I suppose I just expected Lord Hawthorn to be the same,” Isla said.

  “But he is not?” Beatrice asked.

  “No, he is different. A kind man, as I said,” she remarked.

  “Well, that is good news. Do you think that you could love him?” Beatrice asked.

  To this question, Isla did not seem to have an answer. She was quiet for a moment, evidently considering her response, but Beatrice could already see that Isla did not think that love was going to be a factor in their marriage.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter, I suppose,” Beatrice said. “Since when was love considered important for a marriage?”

  She was relieved when Isla laughed, understanding the cynicism of the remark. There was no question that they wanted love. It was only a question of whether or not their mothers and fathers cared enough about that to arrange marriages that included love.

  “I do need to talk to you, Beatrice,” Isla said.

  “Then please, speak,” Beatrice said.

  Isla smiled, and it seemed genuine enough. Despite whatever else Beatrice sensed from her, she wasn’t exactly upset and she was at least making an effort to be happy.

  “Well, the afternoon was really lovely, just getting to know him. I suppose I am a bit anxious because of the fact that we do not love one another, but we also do not know one another. I am being unfair to him, I think. Honestly, there could certainly be love in the future. I just don’t know him well enough to say yet,” Isla said, her emotions changing from uncertainty to optimism in an instant.

  “I am glad to hear that. I think that once you know one another, you will really like him,” Beatrice said.

  “I hope so. You seemed to have a nice conversation with him at the party. It is strange, but I feel like you know him better than I do,” Isla said.

  “Ha! Me? I don’t know him at all. Think about it, Isla. He is a part of your world, the world of nobility. How can you think that I know him at all?” Beatrice asked.

  “Because he was so calm with you. I know that I was across the room, but I saw it. The two of you were peaceful. He was not like that with me. We tried to find things to discuss and I do, so badly, want to be the right woman for him,” Isla said.

  “I know you do. I am sure that he is grateful for you. You are lovely and he will realise that. He already has, I have no doubt. Just because you still do not know one another well doesn’t mean that you will not come to care for one another. I am sure of it,” Beatrice said.

  “I hope so. I’m not sure that I believe it, but I do hope so,” Isla said, gazing out of the window to the gardens beyond. “He would be a wonderful husband. I just want to make sure that we make a good match for one another.”

  There was something that Isla was clearly not saying. Beatrice wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but she knew that it was something bad. Or at the very least, confusing. The look on Isla’s face was enough to confirm that she seemed at war with herself.

  Still, Isla was quiet. Whatever was going on, she seemed not to want to say what it was.

  Beatrice decided that her best option was simply to stand and listen. What else was she going to do?

  But, as she waited, she still had to suppress her own hopes and desires. She had to remind herself what it was that she wanted for her own life.

  She wanted freedom. She wanted to help her family. She wanted to be a successful governess, not merely adequate.