The Precious Secret of a Loving Governess: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  The memories of her past continually crept in and overtook Victoria. She thought about trying to get away for the rest of the evening, and hiding out. She wondered if anyone would even notice.

  All throughout dinner, the Earl had continued to glance at her and, although his betrothed was directly beside him, Victoria noted how little the two interacted.

  There seemed to be not much affection between them and, once more, she wondered why they were getting married. The Earl of Hanover seems as though he was still in mourning so it made little sense.

  Finally the dinner was over. The party was continuing and Victoria knew that for her it meant another few hours of standing against the wall, trying not to be noticed by people who cared nothing at all about her anyway. It was agony.

  She would have to push through, for the sake of her employer, whom she dearly wished to impress. He had asked her to come to this party and she would not now let him down by retreating, no matter how tempting it might have been.

  “Are you enjoying the party?” he asked her at one point, sidling up beside her.

  “Very much, my lord,” she replied, the lie slipping out smoothly.

  “I am glad to hear it. I feel quite confident that my guests would greatly enjoy your company if you were willing to make yourself known to them,” he remarked.

  “I think your guests would wonder why a governess is bothering to interact with them,” she laughed in reply.

  “You are more than simply a governess, Miss Jamison. You are my esteemed guest. And that places you in the same position as everyone in this room,” he said to her, gently.

  Victoria had not expected this kindness from the Earl and she nodded quietly, accepting the compliment.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she finally said.

  “Oh dear, I’ve just seen another guest arrive that I must greet. Really, why do they think it is socially acceptable to come after the dinner?” he complained.

  Pasting a false grin on his face, the Earl walked away and Victoria observed him greeting another gentleman and heard the man apologise and try to explain his lateness. She looked away, still feeling overwhelmed by the crowd.

  Victoria decided that if she could not leave altogether, she had to at least give herself a small rest from all of the affairs that were going on around her. She slipped out through the door and into the hallway. There were still others crowded about so she took a few turns to try and find a space where she might be able to breathe on her own.

  But as she took a final turn, Victoria saw a sight that shocked her to her core.

  With a gasp, the couple who were embracing broke apart, their lips pulling away from one another in a hurry.

  It was Lady Ingles and Mr. Smith.

  Lady Ingles pulled back quickly and nearly pushed Mr. Smith from herself in an effort to straighten her gown and appear as if nothing had happened at all. But it was too late and she knew it. They had been caught.

  “Oh dear,” Lady Ingles whispered in a panic.

  Victoria remained silent, unmoving. She had no idea what to say. Then, as if an afterthought, Mr. Smith fled the space and disappeared from her sight.

  “Miss Jamison?” Lady Ingles began.

  Then in a sudden panic, she moved herself directly at Victoria, grasping her hand in a desperate motion. Victoria tried to pull away but the woman’s grip was strong. She couldn’t escape it.

  “Let me go,” she demanded.

  “I cannot. You don’t know what you saw,” Lady Ingles said in horror.

  “I believe I know exactly what I saw. You cannot pretend that it did not happen,” Victoria replied, disbelieving that this woman would try to claim that something else had been occurring.

  “No, no, it wasn’t that at all. You see, we are old friends. And once, a very long time ago, when we were young, we were…” Lady Ingles trailed off, her voice a surge of panic.

  “You were what? What were you, Lady Ingles? And what sort of woman are you now?” Victoria demanded.

  “Oh, Miss Jamison, we were lovers once. But it was a very long time ago, as I said. This was a mistake. It was not the sort of thing that shall ever happen again,” she said in desperation all over again.

  “I cannot believe that it has happened now. Are you mad? What were you thinking?” Victoria asked quite openly, a bit of the old version of herself slipping into the conversation.

  She would not be the hesitant governess now. No, she was furious to see that Lady Ingles would treat the Earl with such a disdain as to shame him like that. What was the matter with her that she would abandon her engagement for an old love affair with a man who was clearly too old her for?

  Or if he was not too old now, then he must have been when their affair first began. Lady Ingles was hardly older than Victoria and she thought that if the romance had begun long ago then Miss Ingles must have been a very young woman and Mr. Smith would have been in his thirties or forties already by then.

  “I cannot imagine what you must be thinking,” Victoria said with shock in her voice.

  “Oh, I know. It is the very worst of things that I have done. But please understand, I love the Earl. Not only that, but I care very much for Marian. She needs a mother and I know that the Earl wants me to be such for her. That is his true wish in marrying me.

  “This was a mistake and one that shall never happen again. You have my word on that. So I must ask you, knowing that it shall be a great difficulty, please do not tell him what you have seen,” Lady Ingles begged.

  Victoria was caught off guard by that request, shocked that she would even be asked. Although she had seen no evidence of love between Lady Ingles and the Earl, he still ought to have been respected.

  But Victoria considered Marian. It was true that she needed a mother; she needed someone to care for her and love her. If this was the only option, or at least the best option, how could she stand in the way of it?

  “What did you say?” she questioned.

  “I asked you not to tell the Earl of Hanover. It would ruin him. It would ruin us. And I promise you that this shall never happen again. I am a faithful woman, even if you cannot believe that just now, in this moment,” she promised.

  Victoria eyed her warily. She knew that she was compelled to tell the Earl, but something inside gave her pause. It was the thought of Marian losing another mother, another woman who could be that for her.

  “I-I won’t. I shall refrain from telling him,” she promised, not knowing why.

  The relief that flooded the face of Lady Ingles was evident and her grip loosened.

  “Do you promise?” she asked.

  “Yes…I promise,” Victoria answered, taking a deep breath and still asking herself why she was making such a commitment to this woman.

  “You are quite an incredible young lady, Miss Jamison. I shall not forget this any time soon. I am eternally in your debt and ever grateful to you. If there is anything at all that I might do on your behalf, just say the word,” Miss Jamison said in a rush.

  “I want nothing from you,” Victoria replied dryly, still in shock at what she had seen and the silence she had agreed to.

  “But if that ever changes, please know that anything is yours. Jewels, a fine gentleman, anything at all. I shall make every effort to make your wishes a reality,” she said in a flood of relief.

  “I only wish for you to refrain from ever behaving in such a way again. The Earl ought to be respected,” Victoria noted.

  “I agree, wholeheartedly. And I shall,” Lady Ingles replied again, tears in her eyes while she was trying to make the promise that Victoria was unsure if she believed.

  “I think it is best if you return to the party,” Victoria suggested.

  “Oh yes, I agree. Let us return together,” Lady Ingles insisted, taking Victoria’s hand without her consent.

  She had no desire to return to the party. She wished only to retreat to her room. And yet, she could hardly escape the grasp of this woman whom she had grown so greatly to dislike
over the course of the evening. First for her self-absorption, and now for this unfaithfulness that proved her to be a wanton woman with very little character to keep her going.

  But once they entered into the party room again, Victoria realised that the same things might be expected of her. Only now, Lady Ingles was trying to pull her into conversations.

  A moment came when the Earl noticed the two of them having entered once more. His eyes did not go to his betrothed. Rather, Victoria noted that they landed directly on her. She blushed, uncertain if the lies and secrets were spilling from her face or if she could hide them from him.

  It was too difficult to be around everyone now that she was harbouring this horrible betrayal against the Earl. Why had she agreed to it in the first place? Oh, she couldn’t look at him.

  And yet his eyes drew her in.

  Victoria willed him in her mind to look to his betrothed, to see through her the things which she was trying so desperately to keep from him. She hoped that he might notice that Lady Ingles was not faithful to him, that she had scarcely paid him a moment’s mind the whole of the evening.

  But the Earl seemed oblivious to it and Victoria once more wondered if there was any love between them at all. It was confusing and strange to watch the two avoid one another’s company and to know that Lady Ingles was keeping secrets. Victoria wondered what at all was there between them if they had no desire to interact and all of this was going on beneath the Earl’s very nose.

  She didn’t want to keep this secret. Victoria wished that the Earl had been the one to stumble upon them or that she had screamed that the two might be caught. She wished that anything had happened save for what did. She had become an accomplice in all of this.

  Mr. Smith stood in a corner, talking with a group of men in a way as if he were hiding. Victoria’s eyes caught his and she glared at him, but he seemed content that she would remain silent. How would he know that?

  “Miss Jamison, how is it?” Miss Franklin asked quietly, coming up behind Victoria where she stood on the outskirts of a conversation that Lady Ingles was hosting with a group of women.

  “Terrible,” Victoria whispered back.

  “Oh, really? I think it is one of the grander parties that the Earl has hosted,” Miss Franklin said back, somewhat disappointed.

  “Yes, perhaps, but I am feeling unwell,” Victoria replied, only half lying.

  “Oh dear, why do you not get some rest then? I am certain the Earl will understand. If you are ill then it is better that you recover before you resume lessons with his daughter,” Miss Franklin suggested.

  “Indeed, I believe you are right,” Victoria replied.

  With that, she nodded to Lady Ingles and, before she could be stopped, departed from the room.

  She made her way quickly up the stairs and escaped into her bedroom where she collapsed on the bed and allowed herself to be angry for her weakness in agreeing to such a terrible secret.

  Chapter 10

  Victoria’s eyes opened again. She had been trying for what must have been an hour to get some sleep, but all of her thoughts continued to crowd in. Why had she agreed to keep this secret?

  The question haunted her over and over and over again. It seemed nonsensical that she would be willing to concede to the wishes of this woman she had only just met. A woman who, earlier in the evening, had alluded to her misfortunes and who had been less than kind to her.

  Not only that, but Lady Ingles had even tried to bribe her with jewels and gentlemen which was certainly not the sort of thing that Victoria would ever fall for. She was better than that, stronger. So why had she agreed to it?

  Victoria knew why. It was the best option for Marian. The child needed a mother and Miss Ingles had guaranteed her that she would not behave in such a way again. She seemed true, genuine in her promise. And whatever the arrangement between the Earl and his betrothed, she believed that they both understood the need for Marian to have a mother.

  Victoria moaned and rolled over again, wishing she had eaten something more at dinner or from the pastries at the party. She realised now that she had barely touched her food for all the discomfort of the evening.

  Stubborn, but unable to ignore the hunger, she snuck out of her room quickly and went down to the floor on which Marian slept and found the maid who stood, bored, with a tray of food, just as Miss Franklin said she would be.

  “Miss MacDonald?” she whispered.

  “Oh, yes, Miss Jamison,” the maid perked up, smiling.

  “You must be terribly bored,” Victoria noted.

  “You have no idea,” she replied.

  “Has anyone come for a bite?” Victoria laughed, nodding to the pastries.

  “No one at all. Now and then at these parties there are those snoops who wish to wander the estate and I stand here for them, but this evening I’ve not had any such encounters. Even Miss Marian has not been a problem,” Miss MacDonald replied.

  “Then would you mind terribly if I indulge a bit? I fear I did not eat as much as I might have at dinner,” she requested apologetically.

  “Please, take some,” Miss MacDonald insisted, holding out the trey.

  Victoria took three pastries, not caring if it was greedy.

  “Thank you,” she said, nodding to the maid.

  She looked down the staircase and saw the shape of Mr. Smith walking with a gentleman towards the door. He was leaving; that was good news at least.

  “Do you know anything about that man? The landowner?” she asked.

  “Very little. Other than the fact of his wealth, I’m afraid he has never made himself known to us,” Miss MacDonald remarked.

  “Oh, well, no matter,” Victoria sighed. “Thank you again.”

  With that, she retreated once more to her room where she would have the privacy of her shame and continued berating herself for the thing which she had agreed to.

  Sitting at the chair at her desk, thinking that she ought to write to her mother, but then deciding against it, Victoria thought about her childhood. Yes, this night had certainly been a reminder and she would not wish to relay it to her mother and put her through the pain of reliving her father’s unfaithfulness.

  A night had come once when Victoria had caught her father with one of his mistresses. They had been alone in his study and she had gone in, wanting to show him that she had finally memorised a poem that he had insisted upon her learning.

  But her father had been in a chair, coupled with a woman. She had been fully clothed, but her dress was pulled up to her knees and it appeared that there was certainly more to come between the two of them.

  Victoria had been shocked and her father embarrassed to have been seen in such a position by his daughter.

  The mistress had rushed away and Victoria stood numbly, wondering what was happening. She had been so young that she did not quite understand the gravity of it all.

  “She is a dear friend, nothing more,” her father had insisted.

  “Is she also a friend of Mummy’s?” Victoria had asked.

  “Not yet. Perhaps one day, but your mother is not at home so I do not have the pleasure of introducing them just now. But this new friend is a surprise so you must not tell your mother,” he had urged.