by Abigail Agar
Marian seemed not to hear the compliment.
“How did your father tell you?” Victoria asked.
“He told me that a situation arose in your life and you had to leave us. He said that you didn’t want to but that you have no choice. But that cannot be true. Papa says we always have a choice about our lives,” Marian insisted.
“Oftentimes that is true. But not always, my dear Marian. And this is one of those rare times. I have no choice in the matter. But you must know that I would stay if I could. If there were any chance at all for us all to be happy with my remaining here, I would not leave you,” Victoria promised.
“Stop saying that. If you meant it, you would remain. But you are leaving and that means that you are choosing to. I do not believe a single word from your lips because you are the one who is leaving me behind and I will never forgive you for it,” Marian insisted.
“That is your choice. If we all have choices, then that is yours. But no matter how I wish it could, it does not change the fact that I have to leave. And I shall never forget you on my journeys away from here. I shall never stop caring about you or wondering how you grow,” Victoria assured her.
Marian glared at her, those blue eyes hot and angry and filled with pools of fresh sadness. She appeared ready to stamp and punch if she needed to. But she held her fists tightly at her side, pulling away from Victoria and looking more hurt than ever, less willing than ever to listen. And all of this was painful to watch, but there was nothing to be done about it.
“When I talked to him about it, I begged him not to let you leave. He said it was not his choice, but I told him that you could not. But he told me again that there was nothing that he could do and it was your decision, not his. But I don’t believe that. I don’t like it. I think that you must stay, must remain with us,” she insisted once more.
“Marian…” she said, slowly, trying to think about how she could say it any other way.
Victoria was at a loss for words by now. She had thought through them all in her mind, had spoken as well as she could aloud, and had been as vague as she was able to be in order to avoid truths and lies.
What more could she say to convince this child that it was not a choice?
“You must stay. Forever and ever!” Marian demanded.
“Must I? If I could, I certainly would. But I have no more ability to determine that than I do anything else. I am at a loss, my dear. I can say nothing to appease you and I understand how difficult it must be for you. But I am ill at ease myself. I am pained at having to depart from you. Never forget that,” she added.
The fact that the child was grieving and begging her to stay was touching to Victoria. She had never imagined that a charge would love her so dearly. More than that, no one had ever imagined that Marian could love a governess.
“Marian, all I truly want is for everyone to be happy. I know that you do not understand it now, but this is the only way that I can assure such a future for us all. I have no choice. When your father returns and I have a new governess in place to watch over you, I must leave. And that is final,” she said with a slow, compassionate tone that carried her firmness.
Marian’s nostrils flared and her brows met in anger. She was unused to anyone giving her anything less than whatever she demanded. Victoria prepared herself for the onslaught of emotion, for the storm that was coming her way next.
“You care nothing for our happiness! If you did, you would stay! But you are selfish. You are leaving us just like Mama did. You care not about me, nor my Papa. You cannot go!” she screamed through angry, hateful tears.
Victoria stayed calm, not allowing herself to show any of the emotions that ran deeply within her now. She understood the anger, understood the abandonment that Marian was feeling, and she hated herself for being the cause of it.
“You can’t go!” she screamed again.
Victoria embraced her once more and ran her fingers through Marian’s hair to calm her.
“I love you, my dear. If I had a choice, I would stay with you forever,” she swore.
Victoria meant every word. She wished that she had a solution that would allow her to remain, but it was not possible. For the sake of her own mind, for the sake of her own heart, she had to leave.
Forever did not include her.
Chapter 32
Reginald inhaled a deep breath. He could hardly believe the previous few days. But here he was, finally.
Standing before Miss Jamison’s door, his heart began to pound a little bit faster. It was the middle of the night and such a gesture could be viewed as impropriety.
But he knew that she would understand. Reginald knew that Miss Jamison would come to realise the reason for his actions and that they were respectfully done.
It would take only a few moments of her time.
Mustering his courage, Reginald knocked on her door. He heard her rustling about inside, the sounds of a surprised sleeper.
But as her feet shuffled towards the door, making just the slightest of sounds for him to make out, he felt confident that he had a chance.
The wood opened to reveal her beautiful face. He gazed out in the candlelight, took in her shock.
“M-my lord?” she asked, evidently ensuring that she was well wrapped enough to cover the sleeping gown that she wore underneath.
“Yes, forgive me for disturbing you so late at night,” he said.
For a moment, he wondered if she would demand that he leave, that he give her some peace and allow her to rest. He would not have blamed her for that;after all, he had been making her life rather difficult of late and could hardly deny that either.
But she seemed resigned to the fact of his presence and he felt certain she would not now cast him away. Even if the way her face held no emotion was frightening to him, he determined that it was a mask of protection for her.
“It is alright. I was not expecting you until tomorrow,” she replied.
“Yes, well, I rushed back here as quickly as I was able. I should like it very much if we could speak. I have so many things to tell you and I could not wait until the morning,” he said with excitement in his voice.
He waited for her to reply, waited for it to register with Miss Jamison that he was there, desperate to speak with her and to interact. He wished to tell her of every moment he had spent and everything that had occurred.
“Oh…of course,” she replied with seeming hesitation.
Reginald was relieved at this, feeling a deep sense of ease with the knowledge that she was comfortable to join him even at this hour, trusting him for the conversation that had to take place.
“I shall give you a moment. Please meet me in the parlour when you are able,” he said, leaving her to ready herself.
Despite the urgency that he felt in his heart, Reginald made every effort to keep his patience. He could hold himself steady, he could be strong until the moment when he was able to be with her in private and tell her everything.
The pain that had been pulsing through him when she announced her departure had been unbearable. No matter what reasons he had given her as to why she could not leave, Miss Jamison had been adamant. She would leave him and he would be alone and his daughter would have no one to continue looking after her and loving her as Miss Jamison had.
But as much as he tried to use Marian as the excuse, it was only a portion of his reasoning for desiring that she remain.
Yes, he had known for quite some time how he felt about Miss Jamison, but he was not a man to easily fail his commitments. Reginald had made a decision to marry Miss Ingles and he would hold to that even if it had not been his first choice in matters. Even if she was not the woman he longed to be with.
But all of that was the past now. And he was free to move on and be happy and make the choices he had long since desired to make.
Waiting in the parlour for a few moments seemed an eternity. The large clock ticked away the seconds that felt like hours until Miss Jamison softly made her way thr
ough the door and into the room.
“Miss Jamison,” he sighed, unable to keep the smile from his face.
“My lord, what is it you need of me?” she asked, as though she were a servant awaiting instructions. Standing with a straight back and hands together, she was the image of propriety in a household.
“I wish that you would sit,” he grinned.
Miss Jamison did not appear amused, but did as instructed and took her place across from him. From here, he looked at her intently, trying to decipher something underneath the face that he could not read in that moment.
She was hiding whatever thoughts were truly within her mind and she was doing it rather well. He wished that she would, just for the briefest of moments, allow him to see what was underneath that exterior.
But Miss Jamison was stronger than her emotions and she was able to hold them in check when she truly wanted to. No, he would have to find another way to learn what she was thinking. And that would not be easy, but it would start with the truth.
“Thank you. I am glad that we shall have a few moments together,” he said, still trying to rein in his excitement. But Reginald knew that it would burst at any moment.
“Miss Jamison, I could not bear to wait until the morning to share with you the changes which have occurred in these last few days,” he began.
Her exquisite face remained unmoved, as if she had been numbed by her own experiences of the previous days. No matter how desperate he was to jump into sharing his own story with her, Reginald felt that he had to pause, restrain himself, and give her a chance to share if anything was amiss.
“Are you alright, Miss Jamison?” he asked in concern.
“Yes, my lord. It has not been easy with Miss Marian the past few days as she knows of my departure, but that is all,” she told him in a flat voice.
He sensed that things must have been very difficult but that the governess was unlikely to tell him much of anything regarding the matter. And he reminded himself that if this was a part of the problem then he was very soon to solve it.
“Well then, I am sorry that it has been difficult. But I wish to tell you that everything will soon be made right,” he promised.
“I do not understand,” she replied in a static tone.
“Yes, and I am sorry for that. Now, if you will allow me to speak freely, I think I can no longer bear to hold myself back from all that I wish to say to you,” Reginald confessed.
“Then you may proceed,” she permitted in that same, proper and flat tone that he expected was merely an attempt to refrain from showing her own emotions.
“My dear Miss Jamison, I know your secret. Or rather, I know the secret that you have been keeping,” he told her.
Miss Jamison’s face fell, concern swarming the surface of it.
“But we shall get to that in a moment. What I truly wish for you to be aware of before anything else is what has come about as a result of that,” he began.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Lady Ingles and Mr. Smith, her dear friend and mine, as we both know, have been in love for some time. And now…now that has all been made right,” he said.
This was the part that Reginald had wanted to tell her, but it was not the greatest piece of the puzzle which they were to put together.
He stood from his place on the sofa and came towards Miss Jamison. Kneeling before her, he took her hands in his own from his place on the floor and looked up at her.
It was evident that she felt near to terror that this moment was taking place. He wondered if she was simply amazed that an Earl would kneel down before her or if there was something deeper, but he could see that she was awash with emotion.
Was she going to pull her hands away? Or would she listen to what he wanted to tell her?
Reginald could not help himself as he gazed upon her. With the back of his hand, which he pulled from hers, he gently stroked her cheek.
Miss Jamison’s eyes closed in peace against his touch. She seemed moved by it and that brought him further satisfaction and certainty that he had made the right decision.
Then he slipped his hand back into hers so that both of his held each of her dainty hands.
“Miss Jamison, I believe you ought to send Lady Ingles a card of congratulations,” he grinned.
“Why is that?” she asked, sounding nearly desperate to know.
“Because she has recently been married. To Mr. Smith,” he announced, unable to keep a silly laugh from slipping out.
Reginald’s joy was palpable and he could not hold it back any longer. But seeing the shock and relief that passed over Miss Jamison’s face made every moment worth it. He knew that he had done his best to right matters. But it had taken a few days to do it and he had feared that in that time, she would be gone.
He had come so close to losing Miss Jamison that he would not allow that to happen again. Thinking back to the experiences they had shared, the ride on the horses, the books he had seen her reading, the way she looked after Marian, he could not deny what had been in his heart all along.
And it was nearly time that he shared that all with her.
“Yes, they were married in the country. Her family was not present, but it mattered not. I was the witness. Not only that, but I was the one who organised the entire wedding. So when I tell you that they are married, you may rest assured that it is the truth,” he promised.
“Truly? They are wed?” she asked, needing reassurance.
“Do you believe that I would play a sort of cruel trick on you?” he asked, challenging her with his own humour.
“I simply never anticipated it and can hardly believe that all of this has come to pass. I am happy for her. For both of them. But I am sorry that you had to suffer the loss of your betrothed,” Miss Jamison said, trying to remain as proper as she was able to given the circumstances.
Reginald admired the way she refrained from jumping at her own feelings. She was evidently making an effort to show her self-control, but also to be prim and proper on the matter.
Yet, Reginald would not have minded if she had shown the same foolish joy that he felt. It was a happiness that he could not deny, and that was something that he wished for every man and woman to feel.
“I did not simply witness the union, Miss Jamison. I arranged it all. I made certain that it took place. And it did. Society will soon know of it and the two will have to handle that on their own. But they are prepared for it. I think that they shall handle it all very well,” he told her.
Miss Jamison still seemed unable to accept it. Or perhaps she was simply still unwilling to believe that it could possibly be true.
But if the feelings she had alluded to upon their last meeting were still true, he thought that she would be quite overjoyed at what he was telling her. It was only her patience which seemed to be keeping her at bay.
“But why did you do all of this?” she asked.
He paused for a moment and chose his words carefully, echoing what she had said to him not so long ago.
“You must know why. You must know how I feel about you,” he answered.
And with that all having been said, he waited.
Chapter 33
Victoria felt her heart still. Scarcely allowing herself to believe that this was true, she waited for a further explanation. Although she heard the words that had been said to her, it was as though they were spoken from afar and to another person. The Earl could hardly have meant what she thought he had meant.