“When my sister first met Carwyn Thomas, she used to sing that song constantly.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Georgette said quietly.
“I am aware that you have become close to my aunt, and I am sure that you know a good deal of the circumstances. You need not trouble yourself to feign surprise at any of it, Miss Darrington.”
“No, Your Grace,” she said.
“She was a young and beautiful girl of just nineteen years. He taught her that song and the meaning of the words, and she was mesmerized by him. She was so full of romantic notions for him that it was almost as if she were under a spell of some sort. Or at least, that is what I told myself.” He sighed deeply and continued to look across the room, in quite another direction altogether. He did not look at her once. “And I was not concerned by the whole thing in the beginning. Rather, I was amused by it, amused by her determination to learn the language of the Welsh so that she might understand the poets that Carwyn Thomas had introduced her to. But I thought it a folly then; a fancy that would change with the wind.”
“I am so very sorry,” Georgette said, wishing with all her heart that she had not asked Eleri to sing.
“Miss Darrington, you would be forgiven for thinking that to hear Welsh spoken in this house makes me angry with my sister, or more likely, with Carwyn Thomas for taking her away. And for many years that is exactly what I have allowed myself to be. And I am angry. Every time I hear it, I am most desperately angry. But you must understand that I am not angry at the girls. I am not angry at my sister, and I am not angry at her husband. I am angry at myself.” He rose so suddenly from his seat that Georgette stepped back a little.
However, as he walked off across the room towards the window, she realized from his mannerisms that he had undoubtedly swept a tear from his face. A tear that he had not wanted her to witness.
“I was so determined that she would not marry the Welshman that I ended up pushing her away from me. In my arrogance, I had never thought that she would have chosen Carwyn Thomas at the expense of our own relationship. I had assumed, throughout the whole thing, that I had the upper hand, as it were. She was my adoring little sister, and she would do nothing in this world to hurt me.”
“And I am sure, Your Grace, that she would not have done so lightly.” Georgette spoke tremulously, wanting to say something but knowing, at the same time, that she was very likely overstepping the mark.
“At the time, I would not have agreed, Miss Darrington, but I have come to know it as time has gone by. At the time, I simply assumed that she had changed beyond all recognition and that she had wilfully set out to hurt me. But I know how foolish I have been, and I know that I was the one who left her without a choice. And even then, after the thing had been done, and she was a married woman living in some tiny abode in the Welsh mountains, still I could not forgive her. Still, I saw it as a wilful act, something she would come to regret as the years went by and she mourned her lack of status and the luxuries she had always known here.”
Georgette simply remained silent. She knew that there was nothing she could say that would help, and she had the very strongest sense that the Duke needed to go on. He needed to come to a conclusion in all of it.
“What I failed to recognize was that she was happy. She had married for love, and that love had produced two children she adored. But I missed all of it. She wrote to me, not long after she had married. She sent the letter to my aunt who brought it to me. She clearly had much to say, for the packet of paper was thick. But I never read a word of it. To the dismay of my aunt, I simply threw the thing on the fire, unread, and shall never know what it was that Josephine wanted to say to me. And my aunt must have told Josephine.” He went on, staring out of the window as he spoke. “For I never received another letter from her. Josephine never tried to re-establish our connection ever again.”
“Your Grace, I am so very sorry.”
“But I do not deserve it, you see,” he said, finally turning to look at her. Even though there were several feet between them, she could see how his eyes shone with tears and dreaded that they might fall. “My sister despised me in the end, Miss Darrington, and I earned it.”
“Surely you cannot think that she despised you, Your Grace,” Georgette said, feeling herself extraordinarily emotional at the telling of the tale.
“How can I think anything but? When she was a child, Josephine turned to me for everything. And I so adored her,” he said with the faintest smile on his face. “Even as a young woman, she would always come to me. And then, in those last days of her life, she did not want me there. She did not send for me even though she knew she was dying. It is that you see, which I cannot get away from. And to know that it is all my fault does not help for a moment. Rather, it makes it worse because I can no longer think myself the victim in it all. My sister despised me in the end, Miss Darrington, and I can never forgive myself.” And with that, the single tear fell.
Georgette, unable to bear his grief, and yet with no words of comfort she could find, simply walked across the room towards him. At that moment, it mattered not that he was a Duke and she a governess. How could that matter when he was simply a human being in pain? And how could she stand by and watch him suffering alone without offering him at least some comfort?
The moment she stood before him, Georgette reached up and wrapped her arms about his shoulders. He stood stiffly for a moment as if unsure what he should do, and she realized that he had been alone for so long with his unspoken grief that he was lost.
Still, she did not lessen her embrace; she did not give up. Finally, after some moments, she felt him relax. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. They stood just as they had when he had comforted her so many weeks before. And yet this was different; something had changed between them, despite their great differences.
And Georgette knew that she had fallen in love with him, in spite of her own good sense. As she held him, she knew that she would have given anything in the world to ease his suffering, and yet she felt dreadfully sure that it could, in truth, never be eased.
Chapter 25
Although the early autumn evening had seen the sun go down so much earlier, still she could make out the handsome figure of the Duke as he climbed into his carriage.
Although she could not see the colour of his clothing exactly, she could see that it was dark. The way the tailcoat and waistcoat fit him to perfection made Georgette rather suspect it was the brown outfit he often wore for church. The brown outfit which made his blond hair and blue eyes ever more attractive; ever more handsome.
She knew without a doubt that he was, quite clearly, heading over to Winterbourne to share a meal with his Aunt Cynthia and Lady Louisa Wimborne. Whilst she herself had not been into the dining room at Winterbourne, only the drawing room, still Georgette thought it very likely to be a warm and welcoming place. Perhaps it was the sort of place where people could relax, just as she had done on her visit to Lady Cynthia.
Perhaps even the Duke himself would relax and find himself better disposed to the company of the beautiful Lady Louisa. Georgette sighed heavily, knowing well that she was simply torturing herself. It had been several days since she had been in a position to console the man she had come to love and, in all that time, she had not seen him once. They had not crossed paths in the corridors which led her to suspect that he was not frequenting his study which was just a few doors away from the schoolroom.
Of course, on that first day, Georgette had been rather relieved not to see him anywhere. Despite the fact that he had returned her embrace and been so very honest with her, still, she felt sure that there would be a certain amount of awkwardness between them. Although she knew that such awkwardness could not last and would not change her feelings for him in any way, still she needed that first day to get everything in order in her mind and heart.
Georgette had felt herself to be in something of a spin; elated at their closeness one minute, terrified of his ulti
mate rejection the next. Added to the fact that she had barely slept for the myriad of thoughts which bounded unbidden across her mind, she felt hardly equal to the task of greeting him on that first day.
However, at the end of the second day, when still she had not seen him, her mind began to frustrate her in other ways. Georgette quite tortured herself with the idea that the Duke, thinking better of his show of emotion in front of the governess, had decided to stay very well clear of her. After all, it was rare for him not to spend a good deal of each day in his study.
And then, by the end of the third day, Georgette was quite convinced. The Duke clearly regretted his moment of weakness and the truths he had told her. No doubt he regretted responding to her display of physical comfort and was now quite convinced that the young lady would be harbouring the most ridiculous of dreams on its account.
And of course, that was quite true. But it was not a fairytale in Georgette’s heart; quite the opposite.
She did not wish to marry the handsome Duke and rather wished that he was anything but. If only he could have been another man, someone of a much-reduced status. Then the love that she felt for him swirling in her own breast would have held distinct possibilities. As it was, the love was to be a painful one, for she knew that it would remain unrequited. And how could it be anything other?
And so it was, as she watched him from the window, his handsome and sturdy frame climbing into the carriage which would carry him off to meet the beautiful Lady Louisa, that Georgette found herself having to blink hard at tears of sadness, frustration, and unfairness.
Why was life so cruel and unusual? Why had she been made so very low by a father who had never cared for her? Why had her status in life been so horribly squashed? And yet, at the same time, she knew it was only that which had brought her into his path in the first place. Had it not been for her own misfortune, she would never have met the Duke of Draycott. They would never have crossed paths in London in any meaningful sense, even if she had not been reduced to the status of the governess.
And so, it seemed that life intended to cruelly introduce her to things that she could never have. Life intended her to fall in love for the first time with a man who would never, could never, love her back.
Georgette lay back on her bed in the gown that she had been wearing all day, feeling so lethargic that she wondered if she would even bother to wash and change into her nightgown in an hour or so when Daisy arrived with the hot water. Perhaps she would simply lay there watching the steam rise from the jug until it rose no more. After all, washing in cold water was something that Georgette was entirely hardened to.
As she stared up at the vaguely discoloured ceiling, Georgette could not help ruminating upon the fact that now that everything else seemed to be going well, her own heart was about to let her down most dreadfully. If only she had not fallen in love with him, then everything would surely be perfect? Or as near to a perfect life as a governess could get. For one thing, it seemed likely that the Duke would, sooner or later, find a way to overcome his own problems as far as Eleri and Ffion were concerned.
He might even reach a point where the heritage of his nieces no longer troubled him to such an extent that it was an insurmountable barrier. Georgette knew that she had achieved a good deal in a short space of time and finally had the confidence that the girls would be able to keep what they had left of Wales and family life in their hearts without having to treat their own voices as a secret anymore. And, above all things, Georgette knew that she should remain hopeful and be pleased with the progress that had been made. After all, Eleri and Ffion were her main concern in all of this. If anything, her heart should simply be filled with hopes for their happiness and their futures, not her own. Especially since her own little ideas of what would make her happy were little ideas which could never come to fruition.
As Georgette continued to lie without moving, she decided that she would shift her state of being by force if necessary. She decided that every time she thought of the Duke of Draycott and her love for him, she would simply replace him in her mind’s eye with Eleri and Ffion and everything that those two beautiful little girls had overcome in their short lives.
She would throw herself into the learning of Welsh which was, finally, beginning to make a little more sense to her. Georgette smiled with grim determination, intent that she would learn the language so thoroughly that the girls would never, ever forget where they had come from. And that would keep her going; that would occupy her mind completely. Because, of course, it was so very much harder to learn a new language when one was no longer a child and able to soak up new information like a sponge. Her days could be so very full.
When Georgette finally heard Daisy’s footsteps approaching, she felt relieved by the idea of a few moments’ respite from her circular thinking. Sitting up somewhat stiffly, Georgette rose to her feet and stretched before making her way to the door.
“Here we are, Miss Darrington. Nice hot water,” Daisy said with a broad smile.
Although it had been some time since Georgette had been served scorched meals and delivered cold water with which to wash, still Daisy was pleased and excited by every day which passed without such spite. Whenever she delivered a beautifully cooked meal or evenly toasted bread, Daisy smiled so happily it was as if the food was meant for her and not the governess. Something about that seemed rather like true friendship. Georgette just wished that she and Daisy had a little more time to devote to that friendship and not simply a few minutes in the morning and again in the evening.
In truth, she had come to think as highly of Daisy as she did of her dear friend Henrietta and wondered quite how she and Daisy had come so far with so little time. Perhaps that was the mark of a firm friendship.
“Oh, thank you, Daisy,” Georgette said as Daisy placed the jug and bowl down on the table.
“Are you well, Miss Darrington? You seem to have been very quiet these last days,” Daisy said, looking concerned whilst still smiling.
“Yes, I am quite well; I thank you,” Georgette answered and found herself somewhat amazed that her young friend had perceived her low mood without her saying a single thing. “I have just been a little out of sorts, Daisy. Nothing serious, I promise you. I am just a little tired; that is all.”
“Have you been sleeping, Miss Darrington?”
“In truth, not as well as I should like,” Georgette said and gave a laugh which she hoped would soothe Daisy’s concerns. “And I think it is that which has made me a little low, Daisy. However, I have determined to get to bed early tonight, my dear, and sleep right through until the morning. I think that will improve me a good deal.” Georgette laughed.
“Yes, I am sure it will, Miss Darrington. I am always better myself for having a good night’s sleep.”
“And you rise so early, of course,” Georgette said, keen that Daisy should know that she was very aware of the young woman’s long hours and hard work. Especially since some of that hard work entailed carrying meals and water up so many flights of stairs for the governess.
“I am well used to it, Miss Darrington,” Daisy said with a grin. “Well, I suppose I had better get back below stairs.”
“Oh yes, of course,” Georgette said with a smile. “Tell me, do things still go well?”
“Yes, very well. Mrs Griffin has been very much easier to work with since His Grace tore a strip off her for her treatment of you.”
“Oh, I am pleased,” Georgette said and reached out to squeeze Daisy’s hand.
“It is a great relief to us all,” Daisy remarked with a smile, returning Georgette’s squeeze before turning to make her way back along the corridor.
Georgette carried the jug and bowl through to her room and placed it down on the washstand. Returning to her bed, Georgette did, indeed, watch the steam rise from the hot water until it finally ceased.
Her mind had begun to wander again, this time dwelling upon the fact that the Duke had defended her so very vehemently. He had not o
nce intervened in the trials and tribulations of the previous governesses and yet, with her, he had found himself suddenly roused into action.
Of course, Georgette knew that she was placing romantic emphasis upon his actions; a romantic emphasis which likely did not exist in his mind.
However, the thought seemed almost irresistible, and she could not fight it. Georgette tried to imagine him in all his passionate state defending her and demanding that she be treated with respect in future. It was a chivalrous act and an act of one who cared a good deal for the person they were defending. At least, that was what Georgette told herself.
When Georgette heard the faint rumble of carriage wheels on the gravel apron outside Draycott Hall, she felt her heartbeat quicken. She had no idea how long she had lain staring up at the ceiling but felt sure that it was not particularly late. Blowing out her candle lest she be seen peering out into the darkness, Georgette hurried over to the window.
A Governess for the Brooding Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 20