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

by Abigail Agar

  “My goodness, this is certainly the right thing for her,” the Earl commented, causing Victoria to feel awash with relief that he could recognise that.

  “It is clear that she has a natural gift,” Victoria nodded.

  “And seeing her use it now is a delight. One I might not have had the privilege of seeing were it not for your push,” he acknowledged.

  The Earl’s voice was light and happy despite the fact that he was referencing a moment that Victoria knew they both would have rather forgotten. Still, the difficulty of it did not compare to the sight of joy on Marian’s face and she was glad he could see that this was of benefit to her.

  “Yes, well, I was rather out of line in how I went about it,” Victoria said.

  Although she had felt herself entirely justified in pushing, she knew that she hadn’t obeyed the protocols of society in order to do so. She had strong-armed him into it and it had been wrong of her to do so. Nevertheless, she was confident that she had done the right thing.

  “Your boldness is one of the things that makes you rather unique and you ought not to apologise for it. It impresses me. Although I do not like having my authority questioned, I cannot blame you for having urged this,” he said.

  “I am glad that you understand,” Victoria said in a small voice.

  “It was the right decision and you knew it. I am glad to have a governess who cares enough for my daughter to put herself in a difficult position. You did something on her behalf even though it was not entirely safe for you to do so. Even though it could have gotten you in a great deal of trouble, you cared enough for her to push for it,” he said.

  “It is difficult not to care for Miss Marian,” Victoria confessed.

  The Earl laughed. “I am glad to hear you say that, for there have been many governesses who have felt differently. I know she is a good child, an intelligent and innocent one. She has a very sweet side to her. But it has been masked by her difficulties. You have managed to break through some of that,” he noted.

  “It pains me to know that others have not seen her potential,” Victoria noted.

  “I believe they were all quite defiant as a result of her behaviour. When she…when we lost her mother, much changed. Marian was young and she could not understand it. She became bitter when she was far too much a child to understand what bitterness meant,” he remarked.

  Victoria nodded, understanding that this was a logical response for a child.

  “But she shall have a mother again soon,” he added as an afterthought.

  She looked up at him, trying to decipher what was in his voice at having said that. It was not joy, but it was also not sadness. He stated it as a mere fact, something he had to accept for what it was.

  “Yes, she shall,” Victoria nodded.

  They watched Marian again as the path continued from the open yard into a small grove of trees. They passed an apple tree and Marian’s horse stopped to munch on one, causing the rest of them to laugh.

  “Papa, she’s hungry,” Marian noted with a giggle.

  “Let her eat for the moment. Perhaps then we can get on with our journey,” he replied.

  Soon, they moved forward and got through the grove to the other end where they could walk the horses beside a beautiful pond which was still non the estate grounds, although Victoria had never seen it before. She wondered how much land belonged to the Earl and if she would ever see the whole of it.

  “This is beautiful,” she observed.

  “Yes, during summer it is. In the spring it is a mess of mud, but now it is rather lovely. There are other parts of the grounds you must see as well. I fear you were right about my daughter needing more time outdoors, but I think it would be good for you as well,” he commented.

  “Oh?” she asked, looking at him in surprise.

  “It is unfair that you should be locked up always simply because she is. Please know that you have my permission to wander the estate as you like. So long as my daughter has finished her lessons, you are free to enjoy it as your own home,” he said.

  Victoria nodded, glad that he had said that. She had been feeling quite at home, but couldn’t deny that she missed the fresh air and opportunities to be outside the home. It reminded her of her youth when she had the freedom to enjoy the grounds of her own estate.

  Her mother and father had been far less strict about her comings and goings than the Earl was regarding his daughter. She had been fortunate, she now realised. But seeing how he was being so agreeable on the matter now, Victoria felt confident that the Earl would allow Marian more freedom to do the same.

  “Where was your home?” he asked her, quite suddenly.

  Victoria looked at him once more as her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to care much about her life prior to this. After all, it was a part of her that no longer existed and most of society had long forgotten it.

  But she imagined the estate in her mind, remembering the beauty of it and how the flowers bloomed in the gardens. She remembered her old room, which was at least triple the size of the one in which she now stayed, not to mention the wash room and all of the other rooms in the home where she was allowed to go and play and do all manner of mischief.

  It had been quite the wonderful house and Victoria’s heart mourned for missing it and she wondered if she would ever have such a life again. Not that it mattered all that much. She was happy now, contented. At times, she felt a sense of unease that she had lost so many luxuries and she would miss those things, but in general, she had grown happy with what she had.

  “We were in Surrey. Our land was not as grand as this, but I cannot say that it was much less. And we rode often,” she answered him with a sigh.

  “Do you miss it?” he asked.

  Victoria nodded before she spoke, trying to find the right words to express it. She could not very well tell him the fullness of her thoughts, but there were other things she could share. She could be honest with him without allowing herself to wallow. If there had ever been something Victoria wished to avoid, it was wallowing in the misery of what she had lost.

  There was too much of life to live to remain stuck in the losses of the past.

  “It would be difficult not to. I miss the freedom, although I imagine that would have lasted only so long until my parents found me a match in a husband. My father gave me a great deal of freedom and that is something I would not have had within society,” she acknowledged.

  She had been fortunate as a child that her father raised her to be independent. Once she had debuted in society and been searching for a husband, she would have lost some of that luxury. She would have been urged into a tameness that she had little desire for.

  But Victoria had seen it happen to others. Most young women were not raised with spirit, but even those who had a little were often stripped of it once the search for a spouse began. They had to be made ready for a husband who could not handle too much spirit and it meant letting go of their own.

  The Earl nodded and seemed relieved, although he said nothing further for a moment. Victoria wondered if she might be bold once more, saying something she knew could cause hurt.

  “My lord, forgive me for having pushed so far. I do understand why this might be difficult for you,” she began.

  The Earl looked at her, as if he knew where her train of thought was headed.

  But Victoria took the risk regardless.

  “Thank you for allowing your daughter this opportunity despite your late wife’s demise,” she said, as carefully as she could.

  The Earl’s eyes took on a new appearance and Victoria waited, wondering if she had pushed him too far.

  Chapter 19

  Reginald was surprised that she would have made that remark, but he could not help feeling a bit of relief at it. The loss of his wife had been terrible and excruciatingly painful. But he had never had much of an opportunity to truly discuss it. Here he was being given an opportunity to be open about all that had happened that day.


  Knowing that Miss Jamison was giving him the honour of acknowledging how difficult it was for him was a surprise. He wondered what had led her to braving the subject. But he accepted her praise, grateful that she could note the hardship it was for him to allow Marian this opportunity to ride.

  “Thank you. Thank you for seeing why it is difficult for me,” he said to her.

  “Indeed, my lord. It must be acknowledged for I cannot grasp what a misfortunate that must have been,” she said.

  Reginald was feeling brave as a result of her words. He thought that perhaps he was mad for it, but decided that he would tell her about the accident. After all, there were not many he felt comfortable discussing the event with.

  He pulled back a little, allowing his steed to slow and give a wider birth between the two of them and Marian. He did not wish for her to overhear anything. But Miss Jamison followed his lead and they rode evenly once more.

  “The afternoon of the accident was…quite difficult. It changed everything for us,” he began, sensing her eyes upon him with shock and curiosity.

  Reginald knew that engaging in this discussion would be agony, and for Miss Jamison perhaps it would be uncomfortable, but he was ready. He wanted to tell her about it and he hoped that it would bring him a bit of peace.

  Thinking that maybe one day he would be ready to tell Marian the full truth of what had happened, he decided this could be a good practice. He had not spoken about it for a great deal of time so it only made sense that he could share it now, and see how he was able to handle such a difficult discussion.

  “A thunderstorm came upon us. I ought to have known that it was coming, but we tried to ride early enough, when the clouds were still in the distance. However, by the time all was readied, it had arrived and we found ourselves in the midst of it. I was sure it would subside. I had no doubts,” he continued.

  “But it got worse. The storm only grew more and more threatening. Still, I was determined. You see, that day was her birthday and I had bought her the horse as a gift. I didn’t wish to waste a single moment of my wife experiencing her gift so I urged that we ought to continue. We could wait until things settled down before proceeding, but I was determined we should not go back,” the confession came.

  Miss Jamison was silent, listening and respecting him as he spoke.

  Reginald allowed his shoulders to sag in memory of what had occurred next. The regret of it all was overwhelming.

  “The mare was untrained. She became frantic in the thunder and lightning. It was difficult to control her and my wife was getting frightened. I tried to calm them both, but I was too late. The horse threw my wife from her saddle…”

  For a moment he could not speak. Reginald tried to clear his throat of the emotion and the memory. But it was as real as if it were happening before his eyes all over again.

  Finally, he gathered himself and looked back at her before continuing.

  “My late wife hit her head on a rock. She was fatally injured. I didn’t know it yet, but she was gone to the world.

  “In an effort to aid her, I dismounted and rushed to calm the horse and move it out of the way so that I might tend to my wife without seeing her injured further. But the mare reared back, her legs flailing every which way, until she struck my cheek with her hoof,” he explained, a finger tracing along his scar.

  Miss Jamison remained silent still, comfortable to let him speak. Reginald felt the weight of the burden lifting as he did so, sharing the tragedy that had struck their family and how he had been the cause of it. His foolish insistence to continue had been the cause of his wife’s loss of life. He felt certain he was to blame, even now.

  “I have not ridden since that day, until now. It was my fault for not having been more careful in selecting a horse for my wife. And I was a fool not to have ended the ride once we realised the storm was truly coming fast upon us. It was my own fault for not ending it when she expressed concern,” he said.

  He had made every effort to keep the overwhelming emotion at bay, but Reginald could sense that he would not manage to much longer. Breathing through the memory, fighting against the blame he felt, he chose to continue.

  “I shall never forgive myself for it. I took my daughter’s mother from her that day. I failed to protect them both. Through a terribly unwise decision, I lost everything and caused Marian to lose something deeply important as well,” he said.

  “It could not have been your fault. There is no way you might have known what was to come. You could not have stopped a horse from doing what she did. My lord, forgive yourself, for you did nothing wrong,” Miss Jamison said.

  It was painful to hear her defend him. Painful because he felt the relief of it. Reginald knew that her words were a balm on his wounds, but he had no desire to forgive himself.

  It would have been easier if she had scolded him, told him what a terrible husband he had been. Miss Jamison ought to have known that he should still be punished for his actions and that she was being far too kind in allowing him to have peace when he had caused all of this.

  But her words, although they stung, left a balm behind. Something healing.

  “You must know that guilt solves nothing,” Miss Jamison said, giving him a look of sympathy.

  Reginald was surprised by her statement and the fact that she was evidently unwilling to believe anything different.

  “But it is still a cross that I must bear,” he told her.

  “It is not. I have crosses of my own to bear and I can assure you that they have done little for me other than to wound me further than I wish to admit. Although things within my family have changed and improved, I retain the guilt of what occurred long ago and the lies I told my mother for the sake of my father,” she confessed.

  He gazed at her in wonder, curious what it was that might lead her to feel that way. There was nothing about her family’s downfall that could be the result of her own actions. It was well known that it had been her father’s behaviour that had destroyed the family.

  “I knew of my father’s affairs,” Miss Jamison volunteered, the words coming out in a cold, hatefully honest way.

  This came as a shock to Reginald who would never have imagined her as a young woman, not even having made her debut, knowing of her father’s indiscretions. What sort of father would have allowed for his daughter to know of such things and not right them immediately? It must have been a terrible position for her.

  “I found him once with a mistress. He convinced me that it ought to remain a secret between us. So I chose to lie to my mother, I chose to pretend as though all was well and nothing had gone amiss. All because he wished for it,” she confessed with a regretful sigh.

  “I had no knowledge of this. It must have been a great burden for you to bear,” he said.

  Thinking of Marian, Reginald wondered how a father could put his daughter in that sort of place of having to lie for him. It seemed the most selfish of acts and he thought that he would hate himself if he had ever done such a thing.

  Marian was an innocent child and Miss Jamison had been the same, although older, when this had happened. He wondered how old she had been when she first caught her father. How many years was it that he made her lie for him?

  All of these questions ran through his mind but he felt that it was not right to ask her about them. It would be unfair, he thought. Still, she had been rather open.

  Looking at Miss Jamison’s face, he saw that it was downcast as if pondering something deep, as if there was still a great deal of regret in her heart. No, he did not have to ask her further questions. She could share as much as she liked, but Reginald determined not to bring about more pain by pushing for things he wished to know. It was her life and her business, not his own.