Risky Rules of a Passionate Governess

by Henrietta Harding

  “They do bring joy to one’s life,” the duke expressed. “Albeit with a few headaches here and there. It’s a great deal of responsibility.”

  “But there is joy in that responsibility.”

  “No doubt.”

  Just then another figure approached the little troupe, and the gentleman in question took Katherine’s breath away even more than Harry had. The man was similar in appearance to the duke, leading Katherine to believe that it must be his brother. He was impossibly tall, even taller than the duke himself, with chocolate brown hair and warm brown eyes. Although the duke had a pleasant expression upon his face, the second fellow seemed to be scowling.

  “I’m off,” the man said, pulling out a pocket watch and checking the time. “I shall be late if I stay.”

  “Do as you must,” the duke replied.

  “I’ll be back in town anon,” he said, turning to leave.

  “Before you go,” Lord Roland said, “I’d like to introduce you to Lady Katherine Chance and her sister, Lady Elizabeth.” The fellow seemed annoyed that his brother was stopping him mid-stride, but he did turn and coldly bowed his head to each of them. Katherine noted that he barely made any eye contact as he did so. “This is my brother,” Lord Roland went on, “Lord Garret de Bowes.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Katherine said, curtsying.

  “Very well, then,” Lord Garret said, looking into Katherine’s eyes for one brief instant before hastily walking away. Katherine watched as he then stopped and walked back towards her. “My apologies,” he said with a bow of the head. “I can be rather abrupt.”

  “It’s quite all right,” Katherine replied. Lord Garret paused and stared at her before turning and leaving once more.

  What an intriguing man.

  “My brother always has meetings to attend to, discussing one matter or another. Half the time, I don’t know what his meetings are about,” the duke said affably.

  “He seems like a very busy man.”

  “That he is, and has always been that way. Oh well, what can we do? Everyone in this world is of a different temperament.”

  “Indeed,” Katherine replied with a smile.

  They all pleasantly bid their adieus, with Katherine waving goodbye to Harry. As the duke and his family left that area of the garden, Katherine thought it amusing how open and warm the duke was.

  “Is that common?” Elizabeth asked.

  “What?” Katherine replied as they exited the garden, as well.

  “For dukes to engage in friendly chats with lowly commoners.”

  “Oh, come now. He’s not a king.”

  “No, but he’s the Duke of Easterly. I’ve heard the name before, and it’s something of a big to-do that he was speaking to you that way.”

  “Well, Harry was the cause,” Katherine reasoned. “Had he not fallen down so, there would have been no reason for the duke to engage in conversation with us.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” Elizabeth replied.

  As they continued to walk along the dusty road that led to their home, Katherine couldn’t help but think of Harry, and when those thoughts were extinguished, she thought of Lord Garret de Bowes.

  His appearance was akin to the Hercules statue that was nearby. Never had Katherine seen a more impressive figure, or one so serious. The duke’s brother seemed like the kind of fellow that one could only admire from afar.

  “Oh, we’re going to be so terribly late for tea,” Katherine realised, breaking into a rushed walk that was verging on a run.

  “Mum will be so cross,” Elizabeth added.

  “Come along, then,” Katherine said, her chest heaving.

  “I’m trying, but you’re going too fast!” Elizabeth protested.

  The two girls continued to hold up their skirts and run home as fast as they possibly could. Although Lady Sybil might be cross, Katherine reasoned that it had been such a pleasant afternoon and such a pleasure meeting Harry and the Duke of Easterly that she did not mind it so much.

  “Do you suppose there will be ham sandwiches?” Elizabeth asked, nearly out of breath.

  “I do hope so,” Katherine replied.

  “Because I know that yesterday,” Elizabeth went on, barely audible over her breathing, “there was only chicken. I don’t care for chicken.”

  “Must we talk of food when we can barely speak?” Katherine asked, opening the gate to the Chance home’s front lawn.

  “I always talk of food,” Elizabeth said, stopping her run and bringing her hands to her knees to hunch over.

  They both walked up the stone path that led to the house, past remarkable shrubbery on each side. Although Lord Dennis Chance did put work into tending the grounds, things would often overgrow during the summer and the Baron of Glower couldn’t bear to hire any help in that matter. And so, their modest home seemed to be surrounded and consumed by a kind of forest.

  “I’m famished,” Elizabeth said as they entered the home, placing a hand on her belly.

  “You’re famished after two lollies?”

  “One and a half.”

  The two girls took off their bonnets and gloves, placing them on the entryway rack.

  “Who goes there?” Lord Dennis’ voice cried out.

  “I’m sorry that we’re late,” Katherine said, still mildly out of breath.

  “I was beginning to have a spasm,” Lady Sybil said, bringing a hand to her chest. “Wherever have you been?”

  “We were in town, mum,” Katherine said, coming to the table and seating herself. Elizabeth did the same. “I told you.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t expect you to arrive at quarter past three.”

  “We decided to take a stroll in the garden,” Katherine said, watching as her mother poured tea and brought over the trays of sandwiches.

  “It’s lovely this time of year,” Elizabeth added.

  “That it is,” Lord Dennis said, as sweet and unassuming as ever.

  As the Chance family enjoyed their tea and delighted in conversation, Lady Sybil’s nerves having finally calmed, there was only one thing on Katherine’s mind that she wished to speak of.

  Chapter 2

  The Duke of Easterly stepped into the rather palatial home known as Bonhomie. There were deep French roots in the de Bowes family, and these could be seen in subtle design touches throughout the home, and the propensity for having French cuisine for supper.

  Lord Roland was a dutiful man, yet still, considering all that had happened to their family, he wished to maintain a lighthearted mien for the sake of his children, Harry and Constance. They were wayward children. Lord Roland understood the little rebellions. It was perhaps his own fault, considering that they never had the same governess from one season to the next.

  The duke’s brother, Lord Garret, insisted that the children needed a stable governess in order to be brought up well, but Lord Roland simply did as he chose, letting a governess go if for even one moment he sensed that his wife would not like them. There was a great deal of instinct involved in this process, and the duke found that his instincts always said ‘no.’

  “Here we go, then,” Rebecca said, directing the children into the tearoom. Bonhomie had separate rooms for breakfast, tea, and supper. Anyone in Britain would admit that this was an extravagance, but considering how many rooms there were at Bonhomie, it became rather fitting to designate a different spot for each of these meals. The tearoom faced the west, and therefore had tremendous sunlight in the afternoon. Naturally, the breakfast room faced the east, and the supper hall faced north, looking out towards the garden.

  The duke looked at Rebecca and frowned. He didn’t like the old maid one bit. Her cockney accent got on his nerves and her general comportment seemed unfitting for his children.

  Lord Garret had told the duke on several occasions that it was best to find an old governess because a bright young thing would probably up and get married at a moment’s notice. He listened to his brother’s words but he didn’t like the outcome. T
he duke would have much preferred to have a bright, young thing around the house, if only to bring some life and beauty to it.

  Not that Bonhomie needed much more beauty, for it was considered the most beautiful estate in Hedge-Grove Downs. Lord Garret, being the serious, business-minded fellow that he was, even suggested that they open the grounds to visitors for a small fee, and that this income could go towards the upkeep of the home. The duke wrote all of that off as nonsense, since the de Bowes’ name was in no need of funds and the idea of having strangers walking on his lawn was inconceivable.

  “Take that!” the duke heard Harry scream in the tearoom, and then there was a great crashing of something.

  “Stop it, you!” Rebecca protested.

  “That hurt!” Constance cried out.

  Lord Roland sighed to himself. Sometimes it was all far too overwhelming. Harry was an upstart, it seemed, and he was always taking things out on his older sister, who would scream and protest that she should be the one doing the bullying since she was so much older than he. She was a lovely girl, Lady Constance, but she needed guidance. Rarely would she confide in her father and she most certainly wouldn’t confide in any one of her numerous governesses.

  “The two of you!” Rebecca cried out.

  “You can’t blame me,” Constance protested.

  Lord Roland needed some space. The sound of his children and their governess screaming at teatime was too much to bear. He ordered that his own tea be brought to his study where he could finally enjoy a moment’s peace and think of what he would do next.

  Once in the study, the tea was quickly brought in upon a tray and served at his desk. The servant departed and the door behind him was closed. Lord Roland heaved a sigh of relief and sat in his rather large leather chair, taking his first sip of Darjeeling.

  “Bloody Nora,” the duke said to himself, thinking of how chaotic the afternoon had been. He would not have been surprised if Harry had gone careening into that Hercules statue. Then, his thoughts returned to the lovely young woman and her sister who had been there to see Harry’s fall. Such a pretty face on the older one, and the younger one was fair as well, albeit quiet.

  The duke would make a note to look up the Chance family name to see whether or not Katherine Chance’s father had a title. Funny that he had never heard of them before, but the duke reasoned that he had a very tight network of friends and often that made it difficult to meet those who weren’t considered traditionally “important,” in the sense.

  Katherine Chance seemed to take to Harry. The duke could tell that she had a special fondness for him. He thought that if Katherine could see him on the prowl in Bonhomie, her affections for the little lad might change. Often it was the way with women; they admired children that weren’t their own, merely because of fancy and fantasy.

  As Lord Roland continued to sip his tea, he felt his nerves calm. There were no more sounds of crashing and banging from the tearoom, and he sincerely hoped that Rebecca was engaging them in their afternoon lessons. The duke looked up at the ceiling; so vast and dark overhead. The study was the darkest and the coolest room in the house and the duke preferred it this way. Everywhere else in Bonhomie, there was a great deal of natural light and several tapers and chandeliers for evening light.

  Sitting there enjoying the silence, and reminiscing about the conversation that took place in the garden, the duke became rather curious about Lady Katherine Chance.

  ***

  “You’ll never believe who we encountered in the garden,” Elizabeth said, beating Katherine to the chase.

  “Who?” Lord Dennis asked.

  “None other than the Duke of Easterly!”

  “My word,” Lady Sybil said, her brows lifting.

  “I had never heard of the fellow,” Katherine said.

  “You had never heard of the Duke of Easterly?” Lady Sybil asked. “He’s the wealthiest man in town.”

  “Why should I care if he’s the wealthiest man in town?” Katherine asked.

  “Oh, Kat. You’re such a country bumpkin,” Elizabeth replied, rolling her eyes.

  “I’m not a country bumpkin,” Katherine explained. “I’m merely not interested in such matters.”

  “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders,” Lord Dennis said with a nod.

  “Well, whatever did he say?” Lady Sybil asked, as though it were the juiciest piece of gossip that she had ever heard.

  “He was talking to Katherine the whole time,” Elizabeth said with a frown, as though she found it displeasing.

  “But you didn’t say a word,” Katherine protested.

  “I was dumbstruck.”

  “The duke’s little son was there,” Katherine explained. “A young boy by the name of Harry. He was chasing after his ball and tripped and fell right in front of us. His governess came rushing in, followed by the duke.”

  “And the duke’s brother,” Elizabeth added.

  “That’s right,” Katherine said, recalling the strikingly handsome man.

  “Was the duke kind?” Lady Sybil asked.

  “Oh yes,” Katherine replied. “He was most kind. He wished that his son had not been any trouble, and I assured him that the boy was not.”

  “They had this funny old maid with this terrible accent, and she was flushed and sweating like a pig!” Elizabeth said.

  “Come, now,” Katherine said, thinking it not fair to tease the woman.

  “But it’s true. She looked as though she had just survived a hurricane.”

  “Children can be a lot of work,” Lady Sybil said under her breath. “I would imagine that is a new maid.”

  “What do you mean?” Katherine asked.

  “The de Bowes household goes through several of them.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s some speculation, but seeing as I’m not one to gossip,” Lady Sybil added, tilting her nose into the air, “I shan’t be going into details. Suffice it to say that Bonhomie does not hold onto its help for long when it concerns the children.”

  “Bonhomie?” Katherine asked.

  “Do you not know anything?” Elizabeth said with a laugh.

  “Bonhomie is the family estate, darling,” Lady Sybil said. “It’s considered one of the grandest estates in the area.”

  “I suppose I’ve been living under a rock all these years,” Katherine said with a smile.

  “No, darling, you’ve just had your nose in a book.” Lord Dennis uttered this with a great deal of admiration.

  “It’s something that I’m not un-proud of,” Katherine replied.

  Thinking things over whilst she ate her ham sandwich, the very sandwich that Elizabeth was hoping for, Katherine couldn’t help but think that perhaps she should have been more official and less relaxed during her encounter with the duke. She hoped that he did not think her disrespectful for acting the way that she had done. Did Katherine not curtsy low enough? Should she have called him ‘Your Grace?’ Katherine was not the kind of person to question her interactions with anyone, but her mother and sister were making her reconsider things.