“Thank you, Mrs Wells. Do have a pleasant evening,” Georgette said and was keen to make her tone rather a neutral one.
In truth, she did not want Mrs Wells to be under the impression that she was forgiven for her poor behaviour. But, at the same time, if the dreadful woman was trying to put in some effort, she did not want to agitate her in any way that might affect the children throughout the evening.
The two hours that she waited in her room for dinner to arrive had seemed to last for days. She was anxious to see Daisy and find out what she knew or what she had heard. By the time the young maid was on her way down the long corridor, Georgette was already waiting for her in the doorway of her room.
“Oh, Miss, you just ought to have been there,” Daisy said, wasting no time on greetings of any sort. She put the tray down on the table, hurriedly lifted the lid to show Georgette what a perfect meal resided beneath, and replaced it again and continued to talk. “I do not know what you said to His Grace, Miss Darrington, but he was furious.” Daisy was smiling from ear to ear, and Georgette fought an urge to hug her. She did not want to interrupt Daisy’s tale in any way.
“Go on,” Georgette said hurriedly, smiling equally broadly.
“I have never heard His Grace shout so loudly in all the time I have worked here, Miss Darrington. He came marching through the servants’ area carrying your tray, and he had such a look on his face.”
“Please tell me that he did not admonish the cook. I know it is not her doing,” Georgette said, fearing the worst.
“No, he didn’t even go in to see the cook. He marched straight into Mrs Griffin’s office and slammed the tray down on her desk.” Daisy’s eyes were wide. “We didn’t see it, Miss Darrington, but we could hear it.”
“Good heavens,” Georgette said, her heart pounding with excitement.
“And he left the door open, Miss Darrington. I really think he wanted everybody to hear what he had to say. And it’s been a very different place down there ever since. They all heard it, you see.”
“And what did His Grace say?” Georgette said, unable to hide her curiosity.
“If you wish to keep your position here, Mrs Griffin,” Daisy began, doing a rather comical impression of a male upper-class English accent, “then I strongly suggest that you do not serve Miss Darrington another meal that looks like this.” Daisy chuckled. “And Mrs Griffin tried to defend herself. She tried to make out that she had never seen the meal and had no idea it had been sent to you in such a state. But he wasn’t having any of it,” Daisy said, looking over her shoulder as she always did when the two of them were alone. “Do not lie to me, Mrs Griffin,” Daisy resumed her imitation of the Duke, “not if you wish to keep your position here. Do not say anything further, just listen. For as long as Miss Darrington resides under my roof, you are to afford her every respect. She is governess to my nieces, and you will be mindful of that in future. You will not continue this mischief in any way, shape, or form or you will find yourself turned out without references. Do you understand me?” Daisy was breathless and clearly excited. “And I think Mrs Griffin must have nodded because we didn’t hear her say anything else. And then the Duke came out and closed the door and made his way straight round to the butler’s room. Although he closed the door this time, so we could not hear exactly what he said, but it was still fairly loud, and it was clear that Mr Pearson was getting a good telling off as well.”
“Goodness me, Daisy. What an exciting morning you have had,” Georgette said, unable to hide her enjoyment.
“The whole day has been exciting, Miss Darrington. And the servants do not seem quite so afraid anymore. That’s a good thing, Miss Darrington. And you did that. We have you to thank.”
“But just be careful what you say, Daisy. You need not let anybody know of our friendship, for I would not be too trusting just yet. You still must make sure that you and your position here are safe, whatever happens,” Georgette said, feeling responsible for the girl and hoping to guide her just a little.
“As always, Miss Darrington, I promise I shall be careful,” Daisy said and then began to fidget as she always did when it was time for her to leave.
“Thank you, Daisy,” Georgette said, smiling at her warmly.
“And thank you, Miss Darrington.” Daisy beamed at her before turning to scurry away back down the corridor.
When Daisy disappeared, Georgette picked up the tray and carried into her room. The meal smelled delightful, with a great slice of meat pie, the pastry of which was perfection itself. The seasonal vegetables smelled fragrant and were colourful, and the gravy was thick and savory. However, her excitement at everything she had heard had rather taken Georgette’s appetite, and she thought it terribly ironic that she was somehow less able to eat the perfect meal than she had been to eat no end of paltry ones which had arrived before. Still, she was determined not to leave a scrap of it, if only out of gratitude for the Duke’s effort on her behalf.
Gratitude and perhaps just a little admiration.
For several days afterward, Daisy had found herself strangely surprised that each and every meal which had arrived had been equally as perfect as the meat pie and vegetables. It was becoming clear that the housekeeper was not going to go against the wishes of the Duke himself, and Georgette could not be more pleased.
Furthermore, the water which arrived every morning in the grasp of a smiling Daisy was beautifully warm, even hot. Now that, as far as Georgette was concerned, was definitely the turning of the tide, albeit that the thing had had to be achieved by force.
Georgette had seen nothing more of the Duke until their weekly visit to church. She had been careful to mention nothing of the business at all, and he himself had said nothing of it, except to enquire after her meals as they traveled to church.
“They have been extremely nice, Your Grace. I thank you,” she said hurriedly. “I think your cook is very talented.”
“Indeed, she is, Miss Darrington.” He smiled briefly and then resumed his study of the countryside through the carriage window.
He had not spoken to the girls again as he had done the week before although Georgette rather thought that she would have to make do with the small miracles that had already been achieved in the last days.
And the rest of their visit to church had gone along without a hitch. Eleri and Ffion had been careful to stay quiet, and Ffion had held her hymn book the right way up, despite still not being able to read it properly.
Throughout the entire sermon, Georgette had heartily wished for just a few moments alone with Lady Cynthia so that she might tell her of everything that had taken place that week. Without a doubt, that good woman would have been heartened to hear how her nephew had finally taken the bull by the horns and acted in a most decisive and masterly way. However, Georgette knew that her excitement would undoubtedly be thwarted and could not tell how long she would have to wait before parting with the information.
The only event to have dulled her spirits on Sunday had been the brief, albeit expected, meeting between the Duke and Lady Louisa Wimborne outside the church as they had left. The young woman looked as beautiful as ever, and Georgette found herself made curiously low by it. Furthermore, Lady Cynthia had been more determined than ever to see the Duke and Lady Louisa in conversation.
“I must insist that you both come to me for dinner one night next week. Really, my nephew leaves me too much alone in my little country pile and cares little if I have company or not.” Lady Cynthia, amusing as always, smiled brightly as Lady Louisa laughed.
“I should very much like that, Lady Cynthia,” Lady Louisa said, clearly excited by the prospect.
“And you, Nephew?” Cynthia said, clearly cajoling.
“Oh yes, of course,” he said with little feeling.
It was curiously clear to Georgette that the Duke had little interest and yet, in truth, she felt herself to be a little jealous and knew it. And even though he seemed to have little interest in Lady Louisa, Georgette had seen
marriages take place with much less enthusiasm. As the thought assailed her, she swallowed hard and began to lead the girls away just a little. The very idea that the Duke might one day be married, either to Lady Louisa Wimborne or some other young lady of substance, had rather hit her like a bolt out of the blue.
Truthfully, she could hardly bear the thought of living in that house as governess to the children if the Duke ever took a wife. Georgette had felt her attraction to him growing in the last days, especially since he had been so very kind to her. It was not only that he had stood up for her so decisively against his staff, but it was the closeness they had shared in his study on that dreadful afternoon which she could not quite let go of.
Now that the embarrassment had cleared, Georgette had found herself thinking more and more of how she had rested her head upon his chest whilst he had held tightly. He was so tall and strong, and he had not moved for a moment until she was well again. She had never been held in such away by any man in her life, and it was nothing more than her shame and embarrassment at the situation and her own behaviour which had stopped her contemplating it for some time afterward.
And yet there, as she stood in the little churchyard on a late summer’s day, she closed her eyes and could almost feel his arms around her. Of course, she knew that it was, by necessity, the one and only time the Duke would hold her in that way. It was unlikely that she would ever find herself in so distressed a manner in his presence again, and, even if she did, it was unlikely that he would comfort her so again. The very thought of it, the very thought that she would never feel his arms around her, made her feel desolate. And of course, she knew she was being entirely ridiculous.
After all, Georgette was a governess, not a lady of substance. It was not possible for the Duke to marry her under any circumstances, and she knew that she ought not to torture herself with such silly, girlish dreams.
When the party broke up and began to make their way back to the carriages, Georgette held the girls’ hands tightly and tried to concentrate on them and them alone. After all, she rather thought she would now have to do everything in her power to keep her mind from wandering along paths which simply finished in dead ends.
The Duke had never given any indication that he felt anything for her at all and, even if he had, she knew the thing to be quite impossible. After all, he had disallowed his sister from marrying a man he thought to be low-born. It, therefore, seemed very unlikely that he would ever allow himself to nurture such soft and gentle feelings for a woman who was, in truth, little better than a servant.
Chapter 24
Summer was definitely drawing to an end and, when she had taken Eleri and Ffion out for a nature walk, they had all worn thicker shawls. Georgette could see the colour of the leaves changing and knew it would be but a few short weeks before they all began to fall from the trees.
Georgette loved to see the changes as each season came to an end and the next began. However, she wondered quite how she was going to manage the shorter days and dark mornings at Draycott Hall. To awaken each day in the dark when her room was so spartan already would be a dampener to the spirits, and the evenings would seem so very long without the fading sunlight through which to look out of the window upon the beautiful grounds. She would have to make the most of what remained before the autumn took a firm hold.
When they returned to the schoolroom, Georgette could see that the girls had been made bright and alert by the exercise. Eleri was humming a lovely tune, and Georgette paused in the middle of removing her bonnet to listen.
“That was beautiful, Eleri,” she said when Eleri had finished.
“It’s a song my mama taught me,” she answered with a sweet smile. “Shall I sing it to you?”
“Yes please, Eleri,” Georgette said as she sat down with Ffion at the table, untying the ribbons of her bonnet as she did so.
Eleri continued to stand, and Georgette’s heart almost melted as it seemed the adorable little girl was going to put on a little performance. She could not help wondering if the girls had stood to sing for their parents and grandparents and thought it such a wonderful thing. They were so tiny and would have been younger still when they learned the song.
Eleri took a deep breath and began to sing. Her voice was childlike and sweet and her tone very good indeed. The song, although Georgette did not understand all the words, was clearly an old Welsh folk song.
As Eleri continued to sing, Georgette closed her eyes. She found herself almost trapped inside the beautiful melody, and when she felt little Ffion reach for her hand, she began to feel quite emotional. And little Eleri was throwing herself into the song, singing every word with emotion.
When she finished, Georgette opened her eyes and began to clap. Ffion clapped as well, and Eleri seemed to glow when she realized quite how she had affected her governess with the sad Welsh song.
“You sang that beautifully,” Georgette said, realizing that her eyes had filled with tears.
“Thank you, Miss Darrington,” Eleri said, her chubby cheeks pink with pride.
Seeing a movement out of the corner of her eye, Georgette turned to look towards the schoolroom door. After all, Eleri had been singing in Welsh, and she would not like to have looked up and seen Mrs Wells standing there, bearing witness to it all.
However, Georgette almost gasped when she saw the Duke himself, the door pushed just slightly open, standing and staring in. Her eyes fixed upon his immediately, and she thought she would never be able to look away. Expecting to see anger in his countenance, Georgette could find nothing there but sadness. And his eyes, just as hers had done, seemed to shine with tears.
Georgette expected anger to take over at any minute, and yet it did not. Instead, without a word, the Duke turned to leave, closing the door behind him.
For a few moments, Georgette was simply frozen to the spot, almost as if she was stuck to her seat. She knew she must do something, but she did not quite know what. The girls seemed not to have noticed their uncle hovering in the doorway and were happily wandering about the room, removing their bonnets and shawls and making themselves ready for whatever lesson they had next.
“Now, I have to speak to your uncle for a little while,” Georgette said in a bright and cheery voice, hoping that Ffion would not become afraid. “What I would really like you to do is to draw a lovely picture for me.”
“What picture should we draw, Miss?” Eleri said, already rising to lay paper out for herself and her sister in readiness.
“I would like you to draw a picture of the three of us just now when we were outside on our nature walk.”
“Yes, alright Miss Darrington,” Ffion said and began almost immediately.
“I shouldn’t be too long, but if I am gone for a good few minutes, you mustn’t worry. Just carry on with your drawing, and I will be back as soon as I can.”
“Yes, Miss,” they chorused, already entirely absorbed in their undertaking.
When she left the schoolroom, Georgette did not entirely close the door, rather she left it ajar. She walked slowly down the corridor towards the Duke’s study, her mouth dry and her heart pounding. She knew she could not leave it, and yet she did not know what she would say when she got there.
With a shaking hand, she knocked lightly on the door. The Duke did not shout for her to enter as normal, rather the door opened, and he stood back to let her in without a word.
“Your Grace, I am sorry. I do not know what to say,” Georgette said and meant it.
“I know you are sorry, Miss Darrington,” he said, and she could not gauge his mood from his tone.
“Your Grace, Eleri was humming a beautiful tune, and I asked her what it was. I had not realized that it was the tune of a Welsh song, although I probably should have. And I asked her to sing it, so I would beg that you do not blame the child for it, for she was only doing as I asked.”
“I do not intend to blame the child for it,” he said, his tone still flat and unreadable.
“It i
s my fault,” Georgette said after a great silence had opened up between them.
“Miss Darrington, I am not in the mood to argue or blame. I am not in the mood to have you tell me how wrong I am in my insistence that the children speak English as seems to be your way.”
“No, Your Grace,” Georgette said, her palms feeling clammy as she wondered what would be coming next.
“I know you think me harsh in my reasoning, but you cannot know what it does to me to hear that song. You might think it nothing more than a matter of snobbery on my part, but it is not,” he began. “To hear those voices, to hear that language is a constant reminder to me of everything that I have lost. And that song ….” he said, and Georgette heard the emotion in his voice. It had been so strong that it had forced him to stop speaking and, without looking at her, he sat down in the nearest chair.
It was not the chair he ordinarily sat in; not the one behind his desk. Rather it was the chair that Georgette sat in to deliver her progress reports on the children’s education. It was a dreadful, hard chair and, almost inappropriately, she wished he would not sit in it. She wished he would rise and go around his desk and sit on the chair he ordinarily sat in. For him to sit in the nearest chair spoke too much of his own pain, and she could not help feeling that she had caused it.
A Governess for the Brooding Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 19