by Alec, Joyce
Turning the letter over in her hands, Sophia held her breath and closed her eyes for a moment, building up the courage to see what was held within. The viscountess’s frustrated voice faded away, as she gave up trying to wheedle her way inside Sophia’s rooms, leaving Sophia entirely alone.
Pulling her shawl around her shoulders, Sophia sat down on the floor by the fire, feeling the need to have as much warmth around her as she could. It was as if her blood was cold, sending shivers all through her, as she looked down at the letter in her hand.
The wax seal broke easily enough, and unfolding the letter, Sophia read the few short lines.
This was it. This was to be the turning point in her life. This was to be her new position, her new home, her new social standing. No longer treated as she ought, she would be somewhere in between the master of the house and the servants below stairs. Never allowed to mingle with either class, she would be, for the most part, entirely on her own.
Swallowing hard, Sophia brushed away a single tear that touched her eyelashes, not wanting to give into yet more weeping. She had done more than enough of that already.
Reading the letter again, she sighed to herself, as she saw that the Duke of Harrogate wanted her to move there just as soon as she could, which meant that she could make arrangements to leave and be gone within a day or so, well before her brother’s demand for a month.
And yet, she did not want to go. To leave and step out into a new, unfamiliar world, sent terror to her very bones. To stay here with her vile sister-in-law and her—now unrecognizable—brother was entirely out of the question. In a way though, it seemed to be the better option than to start her life as a governess. It was not a life she had chosen for herself, but was instead, a life forced upon her. She had no idea how to work with children, how to teach them and educate them to a proper degree! What if the child did not like her? What if her lack of experience was much too obvious and she was sent away again? Where would she go? It was not as though her brother would welcome her back with open arms.
Dropping the letter from her fingers, Sophia drew her head down, resting it on her knees as she sat on the floor by the fire. Her breathing came quickly, as she fought the urge to cry, to give in to despair and hopelessness. Her life here was over. She had to face the fact that within a week, she would be the new governess to the Duke of Harrogate’s daughter. She would have to let go of all she had here, all the hopes and expectations she had about her future. Acceptance was not going to come easily, but Sophia was determined to try and find some kind of inner strength that would allow her to go forward without this burden of sadness and pain resting on her shoulders.
Lifting her head, Sophia sniffed and gave herself a slight shake. There were things to be done. She would have to write to the duke and inform him that she intended to leave in two days’ time, expecting to be with him within a week of departure. She had very little idea as to how far away the duke’s home was, nor where she ought to stay to break up the journey, but somehow, she would find a way to get there. There was little hope in her using her brother’s carriage, so Sophia supposed she would have to find a stage to take her to her destination. She had never done that kind of thing before, the very idea filling her with fright, but it would have to be done regardless of how she felt.
Perhaps the maids would be able to help her arrange something. The last thing Sophia wanted was to go to her brother and ask for his help, not after what he had done thus far. The sound of his voice telling her that she had to be gone from his house within the month echoed in her mind, seeming to bounce off the walls as she thought about the kind of man he had turned into. It was as though her brother had died alongside her father, his goodness and warmth gone from him. No, she could not go to him.
“Sophia?”
Jumping, Sophia heard her brother’s angry voice from the other side of the door.
“Sophia, open this door at once! Explain your behavior toward my wife!”
Closing her eyes, Sophia got to her feet and made her way toward the door with very little intention of opening it. “Brother, I am going to do no such thing,” she said calmly. “This is my bedchamber and has been for many years. I will decide who is to come in and who is not.”
There was a short silence before a sudden, heavy thump made her jump in fright.
“You are a spoilt, headstrong girl,” her brother snarled, from behind the door. “Just as well you are to go from this place. I assume you have a position?”
“I do,” Sophia replied calmly. She did not need to tell him where it was nor whom it was with, although she was quite sure the viscountess had taken a good, long look at the seal.
Her brother chuckled darkly. “Good. So, you will be gone very soon. A new life for you, Sophia, one where you will have to learn not to be so dependent on others, one where you will have to let go of your selfishness and pride.”
Closing her eyes, Sophia leaned against the door, the pain of her brother’s words piercing her heart.
“One of the grooms will take you to the village to catch the stage whenever you require it,” her brother continued, thumping the door again so as to make sure she was listening. “The sooner, the better, Sophia. Do you hear me? The sooner, the better.”
“I hear you, Peter,” Sophia managed to say, refusing to allow him to hear any tears in her voice.
Something slid under the door, and Sophia glanced down in surprise to see some notes being shoved underneath.
“These are not for your fripperies, Sophia, but for the stage,” Peter continued. “I just want to make sure you get to your destination without any difficulty. The last thing I need is to come and rescue you from some far away inn because you have no money left.”
Torn between gratefulness and deep agony, Sophia picked up the notes and clutched them to her chest. At least she would not have to scour her room for any remaining pin money in order to pay for the stage.
“Thank you,” she whispered, the words coming unwillingly from her mouth.
He did not say anything more, the silence growing between them. Then, after a moment or two, Sophia heard the sound of his footsteps, as he turned from her door and walked along the hallway, leaving her alone once more.
She did not think she would ever see him again.
5
“This be you, miss.”
Jerked into wakefulness, Sophia stared at the man at the door, blinking furiously as she tried to remember what she was doing.
“You are here, miss,” he said again, stepping aside and waiting for her to climb out of the stagecoach.
Her limbs felt like blocks of wood as she climbed out, seeing her bags being set down by the side of the road. Just ahead of her, up a long gravel drive, there was a huge manor house gleaming in the late afternoon sunshine. It was cold, with the February wind chilling her to the very bone.
“Is this the Duke of Harrogate’s house?” she asked, as the last of her four bags were set down by her side.
The man grinned, his eyes dancing. “Yes, indeed. What are you going there for, miss, if you do not mind my asking? There ain’t been anyone new in that place for a long time.”
“I am the governess,” Sophia whispered, already feeling like a fraud by simply letting those words pass her lips. “I mean, I am going to try to be.”
Frowning, the man studied her for a moment. “There ain’t nothing to be afraid of, miss. The Duke of Harrogate is a good man, do you not know? A good master to his tenants, so I am told. You ain’t got nothing to fear from him.”
His words penetrated through Sophia’s anxiety, bringing her a slight tinge of relief.
“Thank you,” she murmured, looking down at her bags and then back up at the faraway manor house, not quite sure how she was to get her things to the house by herself. “That is good to know.”
The man smiled again and patted her shoulder. “Well, all the luck to you.” He doffed his cap, climbed back up into the driver’s seat, and the stagecoach rolled away, leaving
her standing alone on the road with her bags all about her.
Sophia did not know what to do. She was already overwhelmed by all that had happened, the days of traveling, her mind going over and over what she might find and what kind of man the Duke of Harrogate might be, only to now find herself deposited half a mile away from the manor house.
Gritting her teeth, Sophia drew in a long breath and lifted her chin.
“I have got to find some strength from somewhere,” she told herself aloud, knowing that she could not simply stand there and wait for someone to come and find her. If she was to start her new life, then she had to somehow find the strength within herself to do the best she could, no matter the circumstances. She would not fail at this. She could not fail at this. Her life was here, and Sophia knew she needed to find some kind of determination within herself, a strength of character that had to build up a resilience that would see her through. There would be no one else to help her, no one else to tell her what to do or to even so much as listen to the sorrows in her heart. From now on, she was going to have to find a way to live her life alone.
Picking up two of her bags, Sophia strode forward on legs that wobbled just a little, depositing them just within the driveway and making sure they remained mostly out of sight. Walking back to where her other two bags were, she picked them up. With determination, she began to make her way toward the house.
By the time she reached the house, sweat trickled down her back, her hair was plastered to her head underneath her bonnet. Every muscle within her was aching with the effort of carrying them. Deep within her, there came a small burning satisfaction that she had, in fact, managed to carry her bags thus far.
Looking up at the front door, Sophia paused for a moment, not certain where she ought to go. The front door was meant for those who came to call on the duke whereas, since she was no longer a lady of quality but rather a governess, she should go to the servants’ entrance.
She was still contemplating what to do when the sound of footsteps caught her ears. Turning around, she saw a tall, well-dressed gentleman coming toward her, having evidently been walking in the gardens. He looked at her with contemplative eyes, his dark hair flopping down over his forehead just a little. There was a youthful air about him. Although, as he drew nearer, Sophia saw the weariness deep within his gaze, as though life had treated him a little cruelly, giving him burdens to carry that he had not anticipated.
Putting her bags down, she bent her head and kept her hands clasped in front of her, not quite sure what she should do. Should she speak first and introduce herself? Or wait until he asked her?
“And you are?”
The words were taut and brittle, his voice a little irritated. Glancing up at him, Sophia saw that his jaw was clenched, his eyes glinting with something like frustration.
“I am your new governess, your grace,” she murmured, dropping her eyes to the gravel at her feet instead of keeping them on his face as she as used to. “Miss Sophia Weston, at your service.”
There was a short pause. Sophia dared not look up at him, suddenly filled with worry that he might choose to turn her away there and then. She could not imagine what her appearance was like, resisting the urge to sweep back her errant blonde curls from her temples and tuck them back into her bonnet.
“I see,” he murmured, after a few moments. “And are these all your things?”
Looking up at him, Sophia saw the frustration slowly leaving his face. Apparently, she was acceptable. “No, your grace,” she replied softly. “I have left two of my other bags at the bottom of the drive.” Her cheeks heated, as she looked away. “I could not quite manage to carry them all.”
“Of course,” he replied at once, calmly. “However, you could have left them all at the bottom of the driveway, Miss Weston. My footmen will go to fetch them for you and set them in your rooms.” He gestured toward the house, as one of the footmen came scurrying toward them, picking up Sophia’s bags as though he had heard the duke speak. The duke murmured something in the footman’s ear, and without a word, he hurried back into the house to do the master’s bidding.
“I do not think you need meet my daughter today,” the duke continued, as Sophia fell into step alongside him. “It is already growing late, and she will be going to bed very soon.” He turned his head to regard her, as they climbed the steps, and Sophia felt herself grow hot under his scrutiny. “I think, mayhap, a time to get to know you a little better would be best, Miss Weston. I do have a few questions for you, you see.”
“Of course, your grace,” Sophia replied automatically. “I will do whatever it is you wish of me.”
A chuckle came from his lips, making her look over at him in surprise. She had not expected any kind of mirth from him. Was it because of what she had said or because of how she looked? Did he find her changed situation to be one of hilarity? Her cheeks burned, as she turned her face away, looking ahead of her into the house.
“Thank you, Miss Weston, that is very good of you,” the duke murmured, as he walked into the house ahead of her. “I am not a hard man, as you will soon come to know, although I do expect my staff to work to the very best of their ability at all times. However, I will not allow you to simply agree with me at all times, Miss Weston. When it comes to my daughter’s education, I will want you to speak to me about what you have been considering for her, what your thoughts are for her future, and what subjects you intend to focus on. Provided the situation works out, of course.”
“Of course,” Sophia echoed, her stomach swirling with a mixture of nerves and a feeling of being entirely unprepared for what was expected of her.
“I will not have you doing what I ask and what I say without allowing me into your own thoughts and opinions, Miss Weston,” the duke continued, as they made their way to the bottom of the staircase that led up through the grand house. “I want you to be very clear on this issue,” he finished, turning to face her. “This is vastly important to me, and I want to ensure that we are clear on this from the start.”
Still feeling entirely overwhelmed, Sophia found herself nodding without being altogether sure of what she was agreeing to. The duke gave her a small smile, his blue eyes still lingering on her and giving Sophia the impression that she was being scrutinized by him. Did she live up to his expectations?
“So, rest and eat, and then I shall send for you,” the duke said, as a maid hurried forward to stand by her side.
Seeing the maid walk ahead of her and realizing that she was expected to follow, Sophia curtsied quickly – although as gracefully as she could – and then began to make her way up the stairs, leaving the duke behind.
Her mind was so full that she barely took in the grandeur of the house. She hardly saw the ornate carpets, the beautiful tapestries, and marble busts that decorated the hallway. The maid hurried her along to the end of one long hallway, turning left and then right until Sophia found herself in a small alcove with one door on either side.
“This here is the nursery,” the maid said quietly. “Lady Sarah will be getting changed for bed, so I will not show you in at the moment.”
Sophia nodded, looking toward the other door. The maid opened it and ushered Sophia in, standing just outside the doorway.
“And this will be your room,” the maid continued softly. “The master is very kind, miss. He thought you should have a bath in your room. Just pull the bell when you are ready and it will be emptied for you.”
Sophia could hardly breathe, such was her shock. The room, whilst smaller than her own bedchamber at home, was beautifully decorated with the bed at one end of the room and a table, chair, and rocking chair by the fire at the other end. There was a screen where she might change, with a large wardrobe next to it, and best of all, there was a large tub filled with water that was already gently steaming, just waiting for her to step inside.
It was a kindness and a consideration she had not expected, especially given her now-lowly situation.
“Thank you,” she w
hispered, as the maid smiled at her. “This is truly wonderful.”
The maid’s smile broadened. “The duke is a good master, Miss Weston. You will find him not to have a harsh word for anyone, unless they deserve it.” She walked toward the door, her hand on the door handle. “I will bring you up some refreshments in an hour or so.”
“Thank you,” Sophia said again, her numb fingers trying to untie her bonnet ribbons. “This is more than I ever expected, truly.”
The maid said nothing but shut the door gently, leaving Sophia to look around her new room with a slow-building happiness settling in her heart. Perhaps her life here would not be so bad after all.
6
Matthew settled back in his chair, his brandy in his hand. It had now been some hours since the new governess had arrived. His first impressions had not been particularly positive. She had been younger than he had expected, thinking her to be something of a spinster whereas, from the youthfulness of her face, she ought to be in London for the Season, although she was certainly no debutante. She had looked bone weary and utterly bedraggled, but there had been a slumping of her shoulders that told him she had not wanted to come to his home and take on the role of a governess. That did not bode well for their ongoing relationship, especially when he was handing her full care of his daughter.
He had been a little abrupt initially, of that he could admit. He had come from the stables and found one of his horses to be lame. Thankfully, it had appeared to be nothing more than a stone and a large thorn embedded into the hoof, but it had not been noticed by his stable hands until this morning when it was apparent that it had happened yesterday at some point. His mount would be back to full health soon, but he had been forced to give a few stern words to his stable hands, and they had been left with no doubt as to his anger and upset over what had occurred.