The Governess (Sisters of Woodside Mysteries Book 1)

by Mary Kingswood

  And Allan was helpless to prevent the two from sitting almost opposite each other. It was almost as if his mother was intentionally trying to embarrass them. Allan determined, therefore, to devote himself so completely to the comfort and entertainment of Miss Winterton, that she might forget entirely the face opposite her. He had never exerted himself so much as he did that evening, although it hardly felt like exertion. She was such easy company, once the initial embarrassment was got over, that it was not the least trouble in the world to talk to her, and he was quite astonished when the ladies rose to leave.

  “So soon?” he murmured, quite bemused. From the other end of the table, George grinned at him.

  As the gentlemen moved into a closer group and resumed their seats after the ladies had left, Allan had Mr Keeling at his left hand.

  “Your efforts to distract Miss Winterton are greatly appreciated, Lord Brackenwood. I fear my presence makes her uncomfortable, and I would not for the world have her distressed. At the risk of offending Lady Brackenwood, I fear I must remove myself from the house at the earliest opportunity.”

  “Your feelings do you credit, sir,” Allan said. “I am sure my mother will understand.”

  “You must believe me when I say that nothing would have induced me to accept Lady Brackenwood’s kind invitation had I known that Miss Winterton was in the house. It is the greatest mystery to me why her ladyship invited me, for I was not previously in her society, and my acquaintance with her friends in Brinshire is very slight. If my nature were of a suspicious bent, then— But no, it is impossible. Her ladyship could not have known the distress her generosity would cause to Miss Winterton and myself.”

  Allan had not previously considered this aspect of the matter. Had his mother known of Mr Keeling’s existence? As he had pointed out, she had friends in Brinshire and if the nature of their previous acquaintance had been such as to cause gossip… And what precisely was the nature of their acquaintance? He was desperate to know, yet propriety forbade him from asking directly. Fortunately, Mr Keeling revealed it himself.

  “You must be wondering what has occurred between Miss Winterton and me.” Allan demurred politely, but Keeling went on, “It is no secret that I would have married her, if I had had a free choice. My father had no objection to the match, the lady herself was tolerably encouraging, but there was the question of money. I had no expectation then of more than the twelve hundred pounds a year that was my father’s, and so I approached Mr Winterton to enquire about a dowry. He refused even to discuss the matter, and on the third attempt, he told me not to come near his daughter again. It was a grievous blow, but I could not disobey such a clear instruction.”

  “No, indeed you could not,” Allan said, yet wondering why twelve hundred pounds a year was not sufficient to keep a family in tolerable comfort, with care. “And yet his reasons are now clear — he did not have the money to pay a dowry.”

  “So it appears. I wish he might have said so plainly. Honesty is the greatest virtue in such cases. I went away believing myself rejected because of some defect in my character. You cannot imagine how tormented I have been as a consequence. If I had known it was a mere question of money, I should have been a great deal easier. Ah, money! How it dominates our lives, does not it?”

  Allan raised an eyebrow. “Does it?”

  Keeling smiled good-humouredly. “Not for your lordship, I daresay. Those who have plenty think nothing of it, but those of us less well endowed must consider every expense, and count every penny with care, and marry prudently or not at all. It is very difficult.” He sighed.

  “We must all of us live within our means, Mr Keeling,” Allan said, “and choose a wife with a due regard for our respective stations in life. We are both constrained to marry prudently, where we marry at all.”

  “It is the duty of every man to marry, if he can,” Keeling said. “I certainly mean to do so, and as soon as I find another such as Miss Winterton with fifty thousand or so, I shall pursue her relentlessly, you may be sure.” He laughed. “This is excellent port, Lord Brackenwood. You must give me the name of your vintner, for I declare I can get nothing half so good.”

  “I take no credit for it, since it was probably laid down by my father,” Allan murmured.

  “Ah, yes. When I have my own cellar, I shall begin to lay down the best wines for the future.”

  ~~~~~

  ‘Friday. My dearest Annabelle, I cannot believe that Charles Keeling has the effrontery to show his face again, after the way he treated you. Why is he even there? I never heard that he was acquainted with anyone in Cheshire, still less an earl. If he had a shred of decency he would take himself away at once and not plague you any more. It is bad enough to raise your hopes and then dash them in the most painful way, without turning up here, there and everywhere, just as if nothing had ever happened. May he rot in the fires of Hell, the horrid, deceitful man. Yours in anger, Lucy.’

  ~~~~~

  Annabelle had hoped to creep away after dinner, but she was called upon to play a duet with Miss Lorrimer, and then to turn the pages for the youngest Miss Walton, and then, as the gentlemen returned and drew the young ladies’ attention, to play herself while the rest of the company enjoyed cards or flirting or both. But her solitude in the corner helped to compose her mind, and her position hidden behind the instrument kept her from notice.

  Charles here! It was the last thing she had expected, here in Cheshire, where the family lived so quietly as a rule. She had never heard that Charles had any acquaintances in the county. But she guessed how it was. She had herself told Lady Brackenwood that there had been a great love in her life, and her ladyship had gone to the trouble of tracking him down and inviting him to Charlsby. But for what purpose? Not merely to discomfit Annabelle, surely, for the countess could not be so vindictive. More likely she hoped to distract Annabelle from any thought of the earl.

  But that had not worked! He was too gentlemanly not to notice her distress, and had made it his business to distract her at dinner, and to great effect. She had always had a good opinion of him, but his unparalleled kindness tonight had rendered him the best of men in her eyes. His behaviour must even bear comparison with Charles…

  Here her heart misgave her. Charles had not, in fact, behaved as he should. His attentions to her in the past had been so marked as to attract an uncomfortable degree of comment, and then that night at Willowbye when he had kissed her and whispered love into her ears… And yet nothing had come of it. Without any explanation, his attentions had diminished and finally vanished altogether, leaving her broken-hearted and, which was perhaps worse, exposed to the ridicule of the world. And even now, she wondered if one word from him would bring her back to loving him just as desperately.

  Eventually, when it was clear there would be no dancing and she would not, therefore, be needed, she crept out of the saloon and made her way to the stairs. She was half way up when a voice called up.

  “Annabelle!”

  She stopped and turned, although she knew his voice. No other could make her tremble so, and set her heart fluttering. “Mr Keeling.”

  He leapt up the stairs two at a time, and placed himself in front of her on the half-landing, so that she could not move up or down without difficulty. “We have had no opportunity to talk,” he said, his face alight with warmth. “When we spoke before, I was so shocked to find you here and in such a position, that I scarce know what I said. Will you not come back to the saloon and talk with me? May I not make such a claim on you, as an old friend? I should very much like to hear all your news, and how your sisters go on, which I did not think to ask about before. As soon as I can, I shall quit this place and leave you in peace, but for this one night, it would give me the greatest pleasure to sit and chat, as we used to.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that he could have had the pleasure of sitting and chatting at any time these last three years, had he wished to. It was not as if they had never met, after all. They moved in much
the same society, although he lived far enough distant from her that their meetings were not frequent. But his request was so reasonable, and his manner so eager and yet respectful that she could not refuse him. Nothing could possibly come of it, she knew that, but where was the harm in talking?

  So she went back into the saloon with him, and brought out her needlework again, so that she need not look at him too often. They talked at first of her family, and the dramatic change in circumstance that had befallen the four youngest sisters.

  “It surprises me that your brother-in-law takes no better care of you than this,” he said. “You were not born to be a governess, Annabelle.”

  “Who is?” she said lightly. “Besides, we have no claim on the Daltons, and with four of us—”

  “Nonsense! With the twenty thousand your sister brought him, and the expectation of six thousand a year from his father, he could very well support all four of you.” Annabelle raised her eyebrows at this frank discussion of her family’s finances, but Charles seemed not to notice for he went on, “I am sure he is a good sort of man, but it is shabby, all the same. I should not act so, in his position.”

  “You must not speak so ill of him. He offered to house us but we had no wish to be a burden to him, and we have all found congenial employment.”

  “I beg your pardon,” he said at once. “I did not mean to disparage him, but it was such a shock to see you thus reduced in circumstances. I allowed my anger to overwhelm me. Forgive me.”

  As they talked, it was almost as if they had never separated, and he had never given her three years of unhappiness, and the prospect of many more. The friendship between them was almost as strong as it had once been — almost, but not quite. For she could not forget — she would never forget — the pain he had caused her. The days when she had waited in vain for him to call, the balls where he had not come near her until she had every dance already spoken for, the months of agonised wondering and then, eventually, the dreadful acceptance of the truth. Nothing could wipe out the evil memories, or the tears she had poured into her pillow each night.

  “Tell me about your sisters,” he said.

  “Lucy is a chaperon to the step-daughters of an aunt-in-law, Margaret is companion to two elderly aunts and Fanny is working as a seamstress for Lady Harriet Hay in the wilds of Yorkshire. There is still snow on the high moors, Fanny says.”

  “A seamstress! Great heavens! Lady Harriet Hay… hmm. That is a good connection. Who is she the daughter of? Duke? Marquess? Earl?”

  “The Marquess of Carrbridge.”

  “Oh, excellent! Is he married? Or has a son of marriageable age? That would be a splendid match, if she could manage it.”

  “Fanny is not hanging out for a match, splendid or otherwise,” Annabelle said acidly.

  But he laughed, not at all put out. “Of course not, but if it should happen, just think how glorious it would be, and a marquess could take care of any number of unmarried sisters, you know. Why, his income must be fifteen or twenty thousand.” He paused, a beatific expression on his face at the prospect. He sighed. “Just imagine it! It makes my father’s twelve hundred quite paltry by comparison, although…” He lowered his voice, but when he spoke there was a tremor of excitement. “It may be that he will soon have a great deal more. Do you remember me speaking of my Uncle Albert? His entire fortune now rests with a very sickly boy of five, and if— Well, let us not even think of the dreadful possibility.”

  But he smirked as he spoke, and lounged against the padding of the seat, his arms stretched out along the back.

  Annabelle bent her head to her needlework, shocked, and wondered just when he had become so obsessed with money. Had he always been so, and she had never noticed it before? But her regret at his loss was curtailed as she saw this new aspect of his character.

  8: An Arrival

  Allan watched with growing anger as Keeling conversed with Miss Winterton. He had said he would leave, he had expressed with great feeling his wish not to distress her, yet there he was, engaging her in conversation as if there were nothing between them. It was not kind in him, not in the least kind! Her expression, normally so composed, registered her discomfort, her cheeks flushed, eyes averted. Yet she was too polite to deter him.

  The next day, Allan expected the fellow to act decently and take himself away from Charlsby, but he was disappointed. And as each subsequent day arrived, it became clear that, whatever Mr Keeling had said, he had no intention of leaving.

  When an opportunity arose, he spoke to his secretary. “Do you have acquaintances in Brinshire, Cross?”

  “A few, my lord.”

  “See what you can find out about this Keeling fellow, will you? I know nothing about him, and it seems to me that I should know something of my own guests.”

  “I would be delighted, my lord.” Cross grinned at him conspiratorially. Perhaps he guessed Allan’s motive for asking, but he was too annoyed to care.

  Three days later, Allan was reading to Dorothea, Florence and Frederica in the library, when the nursery maid came to take the girls away to change for their riding lesson.

  Allan said, “Miss Winterton, please stay for a moment. We will leave the door open, and Portman is directly outside, so do not be concerned. I wish you to know that I am delighted with my daughters’ progress. They have come on wonderfully under your tutelage.”

  “Why, I thank you for the compliment, but most of the improvement comes from their own efforts. I have not forced them to learn, indeed, I do not know how I could do so. And perhaps you are seeing more in them because you are spending more time with them than before.”

  “That is true, and it has given me greater pleasure than I had anticipated. That too is of your doing, so I am afraid you must take some of the credit, you know. It cannot be avoided.”

  She laughed and agreed to it.

  “There is one other matter… please, will you sit down?” She sat, for she could not refuse, but he could see the discomfort on her face. She must guess the subject of his discourse. “You may consider my words unwarranted interference, and perhaps they are, but they are driven by a very sincere wish for your happiness, now and in the future. I have no right to advise you, but you have no father or brother to watch over you, and so I shamelessly take that role upon myself. It is unpardonable, but I trust you will impute it to the best of motives and not think too ill of me.”

  She hung her head, but said in a low voice, “You wish to put me on my guard against Mr Keeling, I presume.”

  “It is of that gentleman I wish to speak, yes. He has made no secret of his former attachment to you, and it is proper that he should inform me of such matters, as your employer. But he has also made known to my cousin George some details which gave him some concern. George has the happy knack of inducing confidences, and so it has proved with Mr Keeling. George related the whole to me, and left it to me to decide whether to convey this information to you. I thought it a matter which ought to be laid before you, but if you do not wish it, or if you are on terms of such intimacy with Mr Keeling that there are no secrets between you, then—”

  Her head shot up. “I am not on such terms,” she said proudly, eyes flashing, and for a moment his breath caught in his throat. How beautiful she was when she was provoked! And why had he never noticed it before? But then she was hard to provoke, the so-composed Miss Winterton. “If you have aught to tell me of Mr Keeling, good or bad, I would hear it, Lord Brackenwood. I am objective enough, I hope, to admit that he is not without fault. I would know all there is to be known of him.”

  “Very well then. He spoke to George of the time three years ago when he was first attached to you, and wished that attachment to become— No, let me not prevaricate. He wished to marry you, but he felt he could not afford to do so without a substantial dowry. He knew that your older sister had had twenty thousand pounds, and so he felt justified in asking your father for the sum of ten thousand pounds.”

  “Papa had not ten pounds for any
of us at that time, let alone ten thousand,” Miss Winterton said, her eyes widening in shock.

  “Indeed, although he seems not to have confessed as much. So Keeling, undeterred, went again and this time asked for five thousand. And yet again, this time asking only two thousand, and was most aggrieved to be refused. Your father seems to have tired of him by this time, for he told him not to come near you again.”

  “Well, he obliged him in that!” she cried. “At least the question is now answered as to why he never offered for me. How mortifying that all his professed love for me was not sufficient inducement. But now he knows that Papa had not a penny piece left after Rosamund’s dowry was paid, and he mortgaged the house to find so much. So why—?”

  “Indeed,” Allan said softly. “Why does he pay court to you even now? For I cannot describe his attentions in any other way. He spends every evening by your side. Although I have to tell you that during the day, when you are busy in the schoolroom, he is just as attentive to Miss Lorrimer and her twenty thousand pounds.”

  “So I have heard,” she said, her face lighting up with a sudden smile. “I have never been ashamed to listen to the servants’ gossip, Lord Brackenwood, for it is astonishing how much may be learnt thus. I know all about Miss Lorrimer, and I do not think he will succeed there. Her parents are not at all encouraging. But I cannot understand why he pays any attention to me. Given our previous situation, he must surely see the danger of raising expectations in my breast that he might be called upon, as a gentleman, to honour.”

  Allan was silent for a long time, wondering just how to express the fears that George had laid before him. But Miss Winterton was no fool, and she reached the obvious conclusion before he could get his thoughts in order.

  “Oh!” she cried, leaping to her feet, so that he was obliged to stand too. “He would not honour them! He sees me penniless and friendless, reduced to the position of governess, and with an attachment that he might easily rekindle, is that it? This is what you wished to warn me of?”