A Mysterious Governess for the Reluctant Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Ayles, Abby

  Hannah’s hands flew to her hips. “How dare you assume you know anything about me! I have done nothing unbecoming of a lady and will not allow you to accuse me of such. I can, however, assure you that I have only taken this post for the sole purpose of educating your daughters with no ulterior motives.”

  “Good. That is very good to hear,” Grimshaw said with a stern smile on his face.

  He was proud that he had outwitted her this time. She, unbeknownst to herself, had said the exact words he had led her to.

  “That being the case, then there should be no objections to my regulations and no reason for you ever to find yourself in conversation with Matthew McCarthy again.”

  Hannah shifted her feet a few times. She couldn’t possibly disagree with his declaration after stating that her only focus was the girls, but at the same time she didn’t particularly enjoy agreeing to terms that involved telling her who she could and could not speak with.

  There was nothing to be had for it however. So letting her arms fall down at her sides she simply nodded her understanding.

  “Wonderful,” Grimshaw said, coming to a stand. “Then I believe I can bid you good night.”

  Hannah hesitated. She was so sure that she was going to have this discussion in her control but it seemed to all slip from her fingers. With nothing more to do for it she gave a curtsy and her own evening salutation before leaving the room.

  Grimshaw waited for Miss Jacobson to exit the office before he sat back in his chair. Had she also known the game of wits they had just played?

  He had to smile to himself, for this round he had won. He also couldn’t help but feel admiration for the spunk and tenacity of the girl. Certainly not what he would have expected from Hendrick’s Preparatory School.

  When he had first learned of her education he expected her to be the droll timid thing that was always beaten into every girl that left that place. She had looked the part that first meeting, but Grimshaw was beginning to find that beneath her cap there was a hoyden that perhaps she was not even aware of.

  Chapter Ten

  The following weeks Hannah was happy to say that she fell into a very regular schedule. That schedule included mornings educating the girls on scholarly things, then they had lunch with Abigail their nurse. After lunch Hannah engaged them in various deportment and etiquette lessons or for strolls around the gardens.

  The weather was turning so fine with the ripening of spring that their outdoor time was becoming quite regular.

  Little Lady Rebecca had blossomed before Hannah. Every moment that Hannah shared in that little girl’s life seemed to be a magically joyous one.

  Lady Caroline on the other hand was still hesitant to let Hannah in and she struggled to find the chink in the armor.

  “May we go visit Father in the west wing this afternoon?” Lady Rebecca asked with a heavy sigh as she set down her quill for a moment.

  “Oh yes!” Lady Caroline said, perking up instantly. “Do say you will allow us to go?”

  Hannah had not heard the west wing spoken of since the first few days of her arrival.

  “What exactly is so exciting about this area?” Hannah asked the girls.

  “There are loads of crumbling stones to climb, and we can hide among the saplings while Father works,” Rebecca chimed in.

  “Works?”

  “He is having it rebuilt,” Lady Caroline informed her.

  “I see. And you would usually go and visit him there after your morning lessons? I fear it does sound dangerous.”

  “It is not dangerous at all with Father there,” Lady Caroline said with excitement bursting through her dark eyes. “It’s been so long since we have been. Do say you will let us go. I wish to see what Father has done.”

  Though Hannah did hesitate in taking the girls to an area of the house that seemed in disrepair, it also looked to be very important to Lady Caroline.

  “Well, you both have made it sound all too tantalizing for me not to want to take you and see it myself. If you both do a very good job on your samplers while we read, then I see no reason why we shan’t go.”

  As Hannah sat in the chair by the fire reading Greek mythology to the girls, she had to admit she had never seen Lady Caroline so dedicated to her embroidery work.

  Perhaps taking these trips to the west wing was just the adventure that Lady Caroline was seeking and being the one to offer it might finally open the child’s heart to Hannah.

  They strolled down the halls and corridors from the rooms that Hannah was familiar with in the east wing, through the main section of the house, and up a set of grand stairs that Hannah had never traversed before.

  At the top it was clear that this portion of the house was not livable in simply by the breeze that she could feel.

  The stairway led to a long hall with windows every few feet. Through the window panes Hannah glanced into the remains of the wing.

  There were doors along the hall, no doubt all leading to what used to be rooms, but now they were all to be locked tight as stepping through one would lead to a long fall to the floor below.

  All that was left of the wing was the stone walls that outlined it. The whole of the inside was nothing but bare floor with little saplings growing up.

  Much of the roof seemed to be missing too by the look of light shining down in various rays.

  As they came to the end of the hall Hannah could hear the sound of men at work growing louder and louder. Finally they reached the last door which was actually open.

  Coming out from its frame was a long wooden walkway that stood on stilts to hover over the ground.

  The girls stepped onto this walkway without the slightest hesitation. Hannah on the other hand had much more reserve.

  “Girls, I don’t know if that is quite safe to do. I wouldn’t want you getting into anyone’s way either,” she added, looking at several men walking up and down as they worked on this portion of the outer wall with heavy stones and mortar.

  “We do it all the time,” Caroline said before she lifted her skirts and ran along the walkway.

  “Oi, who let these wildlings loose,” a deep voice called, a man coming to stand and catching one girl in each arm.

  Both children giggled happily as they were wrapped in their father’s strong grasp.

  Hannah had just stepped out onto the plank when she heard the call. He came up fully to stand still with one dirty arm wrapped around each girl.

  He was just as shocked to see Hannah as she was to be looking at his bare chest. He was glistening with sweat and dusted with the dirt coming off the stones.

  Hannah had never imagined when the girls had said that their father would be in the west wing that he would be actually using his own hands to rebuild it.

  Seeing the lady, he quickly turned and grabbed his shirt for propriety’s sake. He wasn’t the only man to be doing the back-breaking labor without a top covering but he was the only one that Hannah couldn’t seem to catch her breath over.

  “We didn’t mean to disturb you, Lord Grimshaw,” Hannah said when she finally regained her composure from the image of his perfectly sculpted frame. “The ladies asked to come visit but I can see now that you are very busy.”

  “It’s alright,” he said with a soft smile. He looked down at his girls, “Go and see the floor. I believe a robin has built a nest in one of the larger saplings,” he said with joy in his eyes.

  Both girls squealed in delight before running around their father and further down the walkway to a ladder. One by one they climbed down the ladder in their fine dresses.

  “Oh please be careful,” Hannah said with worry, taking another few steps forward.

  Grimshaw grabbed a rag to rub some of the grime off of his hands and the sweat from his brow.

  “They’re fine,” he said with a wave. “Before you came they spent every afternoon running around this part of the estate.”

  “Your progress looks amazing,” Hannah said, seeing an opening to steer the conversation a
way from the sheen on Lord Grimshaw’s forearms.

  He looked around and admired the large space himself.

  “It took quite a bit just to remove all the debris. Now that we have that done, we will build up the exteriors and then the roof. After that I can begin the inside.”

  “It sounds like quite an undertaking.”

  “He is doing it for Mommy,” Rebecca called up proudly from the bottom floor.

  Lord Grimshaw smiled nervously, “Yes, I always promised my wife, I mean my late wife, that I would do it. I just never got around to it.”

  His tone was so full of sorrow.

  “What happened to it?” Hannah asked, hoping to keep him from mournful thoughts.

  “A fire,” he said. “You can see there,” he pointed to the edge of the crumbled stone, “where some of it is still blackened.”

  “Was that how…” Hannah trailed off, wondering if she should finish that sentence.

  “No,” Grimshaw replied, understanding her meaning. “It actually burned down before I was born. My father just never got around to rebuilding. I always said I would but then she got ill and…”

  “It was sickness then?” Hannah asked, knowing she should’t pry but unable to stop herself.

  “Yes,” he answered with his gaze in a far-off place. He woke back to the present. “She was always weak after,” Grimshaw’s eyes trailed down to Rebecca. “Then the putrid throat came through these parts.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Hannah said with all her being.

  It was easy to see how much the earl missed his wife and still ached over her absence.

  “Well,” he said, turning his gaze to the room again to fight the emotion brewing. “I promised her a west wing and I mean to deliver, no matter how long it might take me.”

  “I am sure that she is most grateful to you for it too.”

  Hannah’s mind was distracted the following day as she replayed the image of Lord Grimshaw standing before her bare chested.

  If she was honest with herself it had stirred something deep inside that she wasn’t sure she had ever felt before.

  Though the girls had asked to return again, she had to decline the trip not only because she wasn’t sure if she could handle seeing the earl in such a state again without swooning, but also because she had another outing planned for the day.

  She had promised Lord Grimshaw that she would not engage in conversation with Matthew McCarthy, but had made sure that there was still a loophole in this verbal agreement.

  No requests had been made by Lord Grimshaw that she not correspond or even meet with Mrs McCarthy, and Hannah had made it a point not to bring up the idea with the earl.

  Instead she sent a letter with the first servant going into town on Monday after her first church service. Since then she had had regular correspondence with Mrs. McCarthy.

  She was indeed a lonely woman. Though she spoke fondly of her son, it would seem that he didn’t come to see her very often. Most of the time she was left to her own care in the house her husband built fifty years ago.

  She did apparently have a very healthy brood of cats to keep her company and much of her letters were filled with tales of their shenanigans.

  Hannah had finally decided that she would accept Mrs. McCarthy’s offer to come to tea. The widow was also kind enough to invite both the young ladies along as well.

  Hannah saw this as a perfect opportunity to not only visit with the lady in person but also give the girls a chance to practice their tea etiquette.

  She wasn’t sure if the earl would agree with her logic, which was precisely why she said nothing to him on the matter. In fact, she said nothing to the girls until after their noonday meal on the day in question.

  Rebecca was always happy to talk and had a very hard time keeping any information to herself no matter how trivial. Hannah did’t want to risk Lady Rebecca slipping the information to her father and the whole thing being forbidden.

  “We will be taking the cart to town this afternoon,” Hannah informed her students.

  Both girls perked with excitement.

  “You have both been formally invited to tea at the house of Mrs. Joanna McCarthy.”

  “Oh, will we get to wear our Sunday gloves and hat and have tea like proper ladies?” Rebecca asked in excitement.

  “Of course,” Hannah encouraged.

  “But why are we taking a cart and not the carriage? Father has never taken us to town in the cart?”

  “Well, I thought since it is a nice day, it would be a fine time to let the breeze blow against your lovely cheeks,” Hannah said, brushing against Rebecca’s and making her giggle.

  The real reason was because Hannah was able to drive a small cart on her own. If she was to need use of the carriage she would surely have to ask it of Lord Grimshaw.

  The girls thought nothing of her reasoning and happily sat in the cart while Hannah drove them into town.

  There was only one stop that Hannah was truly nervous to make. She would have to stop at the local shop first to inquire the directions to Mrs. McCarthy’s cottage.

  She had given her word that she would not speak with Mr. McCarthy again and she would not break it, as long as it was proper.

  Luckily when they arrived, Hannah found the business to be a large one with several young men working behind the counter.

  Hannah took the girls in and with her earnings thus far bought them each a peppermint stick to save for later and asked the young man at the counter the way.

  Again they were in the cart and on their way, and Hannah was happy as could be that she had kept her promise intact. In fact, she could safely say she hadn’t even set eyes on Mr. McCarthy.

  Not that she wanted to either. Though Mrs. McCarthy spoke of her son with love and admiration in her letters, Hannah didn’t feel the same. What kind of a son would leave his mother all alone and not visit for extended periods of time?

  Finally they got to the house and Mrs. McCarthy was out in her small garden waiting to greet them. Both girls hopped out of the cart excitedly and came to stand before the lady, their brown curls bouncing with every step.

  “Mrs. McCarthy, it was so kind of you to invite us,” Hannah said when she reached the rest of the party. “Please let me introduce Lady Caroline Grimshaw and Lady Rebecca.”

  “Why I believe you are two of the most lovely little ladies I have ever set me eyes on,” Mrs. McCarthy said, blinking down at them with her little black pearl eyes.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” both girls said with a curtsy in unison.

  “Oh, if your governess will allow it, you must call me Grannie. I fear my Matty will not have children till I am long gone from this world. I do so ache to hear a child call me so.”

  Both girls looked to their governess who saw no harm in it and nodded in the affirmative.

  “Come in, come in,” Grannie said with a broad smile and wave of her aged arm.

  “I can just hear the kettle a’going now.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Despite her age, Hannah quickly learned that Mrs. McCarthy’s faculties had not dimmed in the slightest. In fact, it seemed quite the contrary.

  The kettle did in fact sound just after their entrance into the small clean cottage. It was not more than a sitting room with a hearth and a kitchen behind. A narrow set of stairs led to a loft above that Hannah guessed served as her bedroom.

  Covering every visible wall was the most beautiful paintings and drawings. In the corner of the sitting room sat an easel and the tools of the trade.

  “Are you a painter, Mrs. McCarthy?” Hannah asked after they were seated around a small round table with a tea tray.

  “I do dabble a bit,” she said humbly as she poured the hot water into the ceramic tea pot.

  “From the look of this room I would say you do far more than dabble. These look exquisite.”

  “Thank ye kindly,” she said before slowly lowering herself in the last remaining chair.

  “May I pour i
t for you, Grannie?” Caroline asked, hoping for the chance to show her skill.

  “Oh, that would just be fine,” Mrs. McCarthy said with a wide smile that hid her little eyes all the more behind her round cheeks.

  Caroline set to the task. The room was silent for a moment as all eyes watched. Hannah in anticipation of her pupil’s hard-won education, Rebecca in astute study should her own opportunity arise, and Mrs. McCarthy in pure enjoyment of the company.

  “You did the job well,” Mrs. McCarthy said as Caroline finished pouring the last cup and gave a sigh of satisfaction that she spilled not a drop.

  They spent the afternoon happily chatting away over their tea. Mrs. McCarthy was kind enough to always find an opportunity to include the girls in the conversation.

  Hannah couldn’t help but beam with pride at the girls’ civil answers and proper behavior.

  As the afternoon waned on, however, a sadness started to cover Hannah. It was a most enjoyable afternoon but it was but one.

  She was sure, by the amount of artwork on the walls, that Mrs. McCarthy spent almost all her time in solitude. One afternoon just wasn’t enough.

  “I wonder, Mrs. McCarthy, your hand is so skilled with the brush, have you ever shared your knowledge with others? In a teaching capacity, I mean?”

  “I can’t say there are many around here looking for classes in watercolors and the like,” she responded with a smile.

  “Well, I have been charged with seeing the Grimshaw girls brought up as well-rounded young ladies. To be sure that includes their hand at artwork. I am not nearly as skilled as you are. I wonder if you would be willing to provide lessons for them.”

  Both girls sat taller in their chairs and their eyes lit up at the prospect.

  “I would be happy to compensate you for your time,” Hannah added for good measure.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” she waved off. “I am not sure how much I can teach, but I won’t deny the chance to see you fine ladies come again.”