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

by Abigail Agar

  Victoria had been confused, but she had agreed to do what her father requested. Now, remembering that moment, stuffing her face with the first pastry and bitterly recalling how her family fell apart, she was angrier than ever.

  As she had grown, she had heard more and more about her father’s indiscretions and had caught him again, but he always told her it must be kept a secret and that it would upset her mother. He urged her to remain silent and she had agreed; she had been obedient to his wishes despite herself.

  Victoria had lived in the shame of that for years until her mother learned the truth and she finally confessed having known about it all. Her mother had been deeply understanding of her daughter’s actions. She still felt horribly guilty for it, but it didn’t change the fact that her mother had been forgiving.

  Victoria’s father had been a good one. While he was a terrible husband and an immoral man, he had always shown her the sorts of fatherly affection that a child might desire.

  He had been loving towards her, caring for all of her needs. He had been attentive and gave her his time as freely as he was able. He had always shown his pride in her, telling her what a brilliant child she was and encouraging her in her studies in a way that parents often did only with their sons.

  Yes, he had always been supportive of her. Victoria had never forgotten that and she thought she never might. It was only after he had been disgraced that he drifted away from her and lost interest in trying to maintain his fatherly duties to her. Although he had continued in his pursuits of winning her mother back, he had ceased trying with Victoria.

  But it was that loving father whose secrets she had agreed to keep. And she had regretted it every day since that first when she knew that there was something her father had been hiding from her.

  And now, here she was, back in the situation of keeping a secret for an unfaithful woman. She knew that the marriage had not yet taken place and she could spare the Earl the pain of being wed to a woman who would not remain true to him.

  But she had promised. She had been given an explanation that could possibly be true.

  Oh, but she was still upset about it! She was keeping another person’s secret from someone else all over again. She had been such a fool to get herself back into this situation and the regret was overwhelming.

  She had made a huge mistake. There had been an abundance of other options for her in managing to handle all of this and avoiding this situation.

  Why had she not just called for someone then and there? Why had she not pulled the Earl aside and told him what she had seen?

  Would he have even believed her? Would he have trusted the word of a woman disgraced by her father’s actions, who was nothing more than a governess, over the word of his betrothed? She could hardly know. After all, Victoria didn’t know either of them very well.

  She had only just met the Earl a few days prior and their interactions had been sparse and had included her upsetting him. Lady Ingles was someone she had only met that evening, but the first impression had only been the start of a terrible character reference.

  Nevertheless, despite not knowing either of them and being confident that her interactions with both had been deeply flawed, Victoria felt beholden to the Earl. He held her loyalty, did he not?

  He had given her employment despite knowing about her past and knowing what had happened in her family. He was the one who was giving her a chance at life and to make a name for herself as a governess. He was trusting her with his daughter and that meant there must be a level of trust between them that she would have to earn.

  And yet, she had made a promise. And Victoria had always been loyal with her word. She had made that promise, no matter how foolish it had been, in a moment of desperation and uncertainty.

  Yes, she was stuck between the two. She was caught by her word and her loyalty and Victoria didn’t know what to do.

  Once more, she justified the fact that if she told the Earl, he might not believe her. But what if he found out himself? And what if he learned that she knew about it? Would he ever forgive her for keeping the secret? Would he be like her mother and move on from it, understanding the difficult position she was in?

  Or would he cast her out and tell all of London about her? Would she make a name for herself as the keeper of unfaithful secrets? She certainly already had that reputation, did she not? She had already lied so much on behalf of someone false that there was nothing more to be said about her in this regard.

  Victoria ate another scone, hoping that if she filled her belly, her mind might settle. She looked at the paper before her on the desk and wondered again if she ought to write to her mother and beg her advice on these matters.

  But she knew it was unwise. It would wound her mother’s heart to have to give an answer. And truly, Victoria knew the answer, she knew what she ought to do, yet she feared it.

  The best solution was certainly to tell the Earl the truth of what she had seen. But she simply couldn’t. She would justify it to herself in any way she could, because it would be far too difficult to find the words to share with him about it.

  Lady Ingles would deny it, as would the landowner, Mr. Smith. They would claim she had been mistaken. And if Victoria did not know them well enough to know whom she could trust, there was no chance at all that the Earl might believe he knew her well enough to trust her.

  What’s more, she could even be accused of a lie for other reasons. The fanciful imaginings of a woman who had seen her own family destroyed by unfaithfulness and bitterly wishing that another family would fall. A young governess who wished to get the Earl all to herself by destroying his love for his betrothed.

  Any number of rumours could be spread if she spoke up about what happened. Surely, the safest option was to keep quiet about it.

  And with that in mind, Victoria sighed and left the third pastry on a sheet of paper before moving back to her bed. She would have a chance to rest that night before getting back to her lessons with Marian.

  Sunday was coming soon and she would have a chance to rest and reflect on the week and make up her mind about any other difficult decisions.

  In that moment, she felt as though her only good option would be to leave the estate. Then she would not have to betray anyone’s confidences.

  But if she did that, she would be without work and that was simply not an option. She could not sacrifice her own self for the lies of another. Not again.

  Victoria closed her eyes and breathed deeply, praying that sleep might come and she would wake with a clear mind. And by the time she blew out her candle, the exhaustion of indecision had overwhelmed her enough that she was eventually able to get the rest she needed, drifting into a painless sleep.

  Chapter 11

  “Now, Marian, we both know that I’m not going to give in. I am happy to give you opportunities to speak about whatever is on your mind, but I shall not tolerate continuous complaints when we have much to get through in your lessons,” Victoria said, warning the child who had just called her a useless governess for not allowing her a break.

  “I only wanted a short break,” she retorted.

  “If you wish for a break, you must first do the work which the break would be from. One cannot have a break if one has not even begun their efforts,” Victoria reasoned in reply.

  Marian simply glared and pouted, unwilling or unable to say anything much in return to that truth.

  “Now, repeat after me. Once more,” Victoria urged, continuing with the lesson in poetry. The Earl had wished for his daughter to be well educated in literature and was determined that she would find a great deal of capability in that area.

  Thus far, Victoria had only found Marian to be more contentious than the day before. She began to wonder if there was any reason at all in this, but reminded herself of the importance of this position. She had to do well, and she had to push through with Marian.

  She had to ignore everything that had occurred on the previous night.

  That thought
shook her and Victoria blinked herself into a new focus with the child. She knew that she could be strong and get Marian to listen if she just held her ground, no matter how difficult it might be.

  Despite Marian’s behaviour, no matter how rebellious she was, it was evident that the child had a clever mind. She was bright and witty, strategic and clever. And while those aspects of her character had been the reason for her poor reputation in the home, Victoria couldn’t help but admire the tenacity with which she spoke.

  Her strategy was going to be slow to progress, but Victoria felt confident that it would work eventually. And as the day moved on, she was right. By matching Marian’s wit, she was able to consistently trap her in her own arguments.

  More than that, it was the fact that she had been recognising that Marian was intelligent in her attitude rather than simply badly behaved.

  By the end of the day, Marian had memorised the entire passage that they had worked on. From there, she had done well in her piano lesson and also with French. Each lesson had been a struggle, but Victoria had devised whatever necessary to push through.

  That evening, Victoria had gone down to dinner and passed by the Earl. He had nodded to her politely and inquired how she was.

  “Very well, my lord, and you?” she greeted in reply.

  “I am well, thank you. Are you on to dinner?” he asked.

  “Indeed, my lord. I expect you have eaten?” she continued, making conversation that interested neither of them but was expected nevertheless.

  “Certainly, I have. With my daughter, of course. She was rather tame this evening, tired even. You must have kept her busy today,” he said.

  “I tried my best,” she smiled.

  “I am glad to hear it. Enjoy your evening,” he said, taking his leave in a way that seemed somewhat strange and nervous.

  Victoria watched him go as subtly as she could.

  Enjoying dinner with the rest of the staff, she was trying to make herself feel at home as best as she was able. There were so many things about living at the estate that had been an adjustment for her and Victoria found these times to be a bit of peace amidst everything else that was happening.

  That evening, she sat in her room and tried to sort her thoughts. From the day she had arrived at the Earl’s home, Victoria had been overwhelmed by events. From learning about Marian’s behaviour and the ways her grief had impacted her to keeping the secret of Lady Ingles and knowing that she could be the one to ease Marian’s loss, it had been quite a lot.

  She breathed deeply, closing her eyes to the world and attempting to push past the racing of her heart. There was a weight on her and Victoria wanted to see it lifted. Knowing that there was only so much that she could control, she weaved through each thought that was pressing on her mind.

  Marian is improving, but it shall take time. I can be patient with that, I can have compassion for her, she thought.

  Lady Ingles made a mistake, but haven’t many a man and woman done the same? She assured me that it shall not happen again and she is good for Marian.

  The Earl seems to be a good man. He has been kind to me. He is handsome, although that cannot matter to me. He is my employer and a well-respected man. He has chosen not to judge me for my father’s actions.

  Once she had thought through each thing, the weight slowly lifted. Victoria could control so little, but she was certainly able to accept that there was so little of it in her own power.

  She went to bed that evening and rested well, waking in the morning with a newfound sense of peace.

  That day, Marian was seeking new ways in which she might be able to distract from her lessons. With a renewed sense of vigour and determination, Victoria smiled and continued on in the lessons.

  “Marian, I must ask you to pay attention. If you can finish this page, I shall give you a five minute time to rest and play,” she encouraged.

  Marian looked at her with suspicion.

  “You never allow me to play,” she complained.

  “I allow you to play far too often, but as it is, I am hoping that you shall understand that it is a reward. You have done well this morning, but this still must be completed. Once you have finished your task, I should like to see you enjoy yourself,” Victoria remarked.

  Marian seemed to be considering it, as if she could not allow herself to give in too quickly. But Victoria knew that the child’s mind was already made up. She would be obedient. She would finish the work and do what she had been asked.

  Once she had completed the task, Victoria did as promised and allowed her five minutes to play.

  “Alright, my dear, the time has come for us to resume,” Victoria told her when the five minutes had come to an end.

  “I have no interest in returning to work. I should like to continue playing,” Marian replied.

  “And I should like to go and read in my room, but as it is, we must continue,” Victoria grinned.

  “Why do you bother with all of those books?” Marian asked, disgusted.

  “Tell me, Miss Marian, do you enjoy every aspect of your life?” she asked.

  Marian’s eyebrows drew together in pondering. A gentle sadness filled them and she bit her lip.

  “Papa says I ought to,” she said in a small voice.

  “Yes, but you and I both know that there are times when we do not live what is expected of us,” Victoria said empathetically, drawing near to Marian.

  The child looked up at her with a vulnerability that she had tried so hard to hide until now.

  “I love all of these books because they allow me to live in another life, another world. There are times that one needs such an escape. If you can imagine what it is to be another person, in another land or time perhaps, it does far more than just give a lesson or teach you. It allows for an escape. I should like nothing more than to live in books for a time each day, for the rest of my life,” Victoria confessed.

  “In order to leave this one?” Marian asked.

  “Only for a while each day. This is a good world we live in, do not get me wrong. We are very fortunate, you and I. But when life grows difficult or we become overwhelmed, it is good to have a break, don’t you think?” she suggested.

  “You mean like when you let me play?” Marian replied.

  “Exactly. Just as you have played in order to escape your lessons, we may read in order to escape our troubles. Does that make sense?” Victoria asked.

  Marian nodded, not replying with her usual brashness or refuting it with her hatred of reading. She simply seemed to understand for the first time what it truly meant to desire the company of books.

  “Miss Jamison?” she began.

  “What is it, dear?” Victoria replied, looking directly into Marian’s sad eyes.

  “I should like to read a book apart from our lessons,” she said, hesitating as if committing herself to something she was unsure she wanted.

  Victoria smiled.

  “I am certain I can arrange to find you something you shall enjoy,” she guaranteed.

  The rest of the day continued with fewer struggles than it had begun with. But the following morning, Victoria recognised that the combative behaviour had begun anew. Each day it was clear she would be starting over with Marian and she was determined that she would be patient in the midst of it.

  A few times, she had passed by the Earl again and each time, they greeted one another politely. She still had a great deal of questions for him, but as her duty was to his daughter, that remained her focus.

  By the time Thursday arrived, Victoria noticed that a difference was being made. Marian began the lesson without her disgruntled attitude. She opened the book for her lesson and began reading with Victoria before suddenly realising that she had been too agreeable.