The Governess

by Camille Oster

  It was warm as Estelle took it, its weight heavy in her hand. "Thank you."

  "You didn't know it was gone?"

  "I knew. I had hoped it would turn up."

  "It might not have."

  "No. It would have been a loss if it hadn't."

  "You would not have mentioned it," he stated.

  "One is not responsible for gifts after giving them, but I am grateful it is returned. I know what it means to me, and I understand what it would mean to someone from the village, too."

  "Doesn't make it right."

  "No, it doesn't, but by a stroke of providence, it is mine."

  "You think I should let the villagers go unpunished?"

  "I think we can all be subject to temptation in a moment of madness."

  "I would have replaced the broach if you would have asked me to."

  "I know you would have."

  "But you wouldn't have asked."

  "As I said, it is not your responsibility."

  "Then what temptations do you succumb to in a moment of madness?" he asked.

  She knew the answer and she smiled. "Kisses, it appears." Perhaps she shouldn't have been honest about that, but after everything they had been through, she felt she wanted to be.

  "I see," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "That is temptation indeed."

  Chapter 36:

  * * *

  The soldiers were slowly replaced by workmen, men who had come from larger towns nearby. A couple of soldiers remained in case the villagers tried to act to avoid the punishment they knew was coming. The count could choose to be harsh, more or less destroy their lives. It was within his right. It seemed the rights of people to safety and liberty here were not as pronounced as back home.

  In England, a court of law would be required, but its sentences were as brutal as anything the count could meter out. It was just sanctioned by an institution, while here, a feudal lord passed judgement. Older ways still held sway here and few seemed to think that was wrong—except the professor, who had lamented the backwardness of some of these practices. But then his opinion had been so very warped, she no longer trusted anything he'd said as actually representing his views.

  Word arrived that the professor was to be hanged. She didn't learn when this was to happen and she didn't want to know. She felt a sadness about the whole thing. All these deaths because a woman had been jealous. Sure, she could not have foreseen the consequences of her actions, but they had unfolded like a Shakespearean tragedy.

  A thought of studying Shakespeare with Thomas entered her mind, but then she didn't think it was the right time for either of them to dwell on such heavy topics. Light normalcy was what she needed, and him too, even if he seemed untouched in his resiliency. Boys sometimes hid their pain. But he certainly enjoyed being the hero of the hour, the one who'd saved them all.

  Perhaps going away and facing a school full of boys didn't seem as daunting now. They only had a short time left until that happened.

  Deciding to take a stroll, Estelle left the castle and sought the clean, fresh air of the rose garden. Snow still lay across everything, spring yet dormant. Not so long ago, she'd been too afraid to come out here, but the threat was now gone. There were only wolves now, but they didn't worry her as much as they had. Real danger, true evil, had grazed her life and she knew authentic, bone-deep fear. The distant worry of an unlikely event wouldn't phase her anymore.

  Perhaps over time, the memories would fade. As of yet, she still had very anxious dreams and woke with blinding panic. But she no longer feared a madman roaming the castle, trying to sneak in through the door. There was a very real comfort in that. Perhaps the world could return to normalcy again.

  Footsteps sounded and she glanced over to see the count, who looked alive and beautiful against the contrasting snow. The sun shone off his dark hair and Estelle smiled. Had she ever been so very glad he was still alive as she was that moment? Yes, probably, but she felt that relief again and again.

  "Miss Winstone," he said in greeting. "Taking some air?"

  "Clearing my mind."

  Tucking his thumb into his black silk vest pocket, he looked down. "And what confusion must you clear?"

  "Perhaps determining the nature of evil," she said honestly.

  "To be conquered, I suppose."

  They had conquered. It had been neither fun nor uplifting, but they had survived. Estelle wasn't sure there were any lessons in that. It was simply misfortune.

  A silence stretched between them.

  "Thomas seems to be recovering well," she continued, not really knowing how to deal with the silence.

  "He is a strong boy." Again awkward silence echoed between them. "I must leave shortly."

  "Must you?" She tried her best to hide the disappointment she felt.

  "But I find I don't want to. I feel as if matters are unresolved."

  “You mean with the villagers?”

  “No, well, yes that too.”

  “What will you do to them?”

  “I have decided their punishment will be economic. They will have to contribute more of their harvest than before to make up for what they’ve done. It goes nowhere near financially compensating for the losses, but to them, they won’t starve, but they will sacrifice many of their indulgences over the next couple of years. It will be a fitting punishment and there has to be one. But it wasn’t what I was referring to.”

  Something else then. Perhaps relating to certain intimacies they’d indulged in. Estelle wasn’t quite sure this was a conversation that would help either of them.

  Clearing his throat, he continued. "I also worry that you have a poor impression of our country, that we are all monsters with murderous intentions in our hearts."

  "I don't think that."

  "We have gentile society the same as you do in England. Our cities are beautiful. I find myself wanting to show them to you, but I can't right now. As much as I don't want to leave, I am needed. It is a particularly tricky time in the negotiation."

  "I understand, and I will take care of Thomas while you are gone."

  "I have no doubt."

  This was a natural end in the conversation, but he didn't take it. "He will leave soon. He has grown up so very fast. I am proud of the person he has become. I will be proud of the man he will be."

  "Of course."

  "He has faced a great deal of adversity, as have I."

  Estelle felt this conversation was heading somewhere, but she didn't know where.

  "I lost my ability to trust, and you have felt the brunt of that perhaps more than anyone. But I think I have found it again, and it seems not even the most vehement act of treachery can shake it."

  He was avoiding her eyes and Estelle didn't know what that meant.

  "Are you truly looking forward to returning home? Does England mean that much to you?"

  Opening her mouth, Estelle didn't quite know what to say. "There are, of course, things I miss. It is my home. The only one I have, really."

  "The broach will provide you with a dignified life."

  "Yes," she agreed. "Thank you."

  "I want you to have choices," he said.

  The urge to thank him yet again was still there, but she suppressed it. She still had little idea of what he was implying.

  "So if you were to make other choices, it would be a choice."

  "I don't follow."

  He looked frustrated for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together. "I am not very good at this, I find."

  "At what?"

  "I am," he started carefully, "more or less asking you to stay."

  "Stay?"

  "With me. Here."

  "But Thomas will not be here. You will not be here."

  "That is not what I'm saying. It doesn't necessarily have to be here at the castle. I mean with… me." He cleared his throat again. She'd never seen him look so awkward and uncomfortable. It finally dawned on her that he meant 'together'—them together.

 
"Oh." Thoughts raced through her mind. Did he mean as his mistress? She couldn't fault him for thinking so as she had been liberal, very liberal, with her affections. That was a fault all her own, but could she forgive herself from falling into another of the ultimate no-nos of being a governess—agreeing to be a mistress to the employer? Part of her was screaming yes, no matter the consequences, no matter the limitations. She loved him and would give anything to have him, even if the cost would ultimately be hers.

  But giving into such urges would ultimately not be what she wanted, a falsity she would rather live without, as painful as that decision would be. As the vicar's daughter, she'd learned that being destitute was better than losing oneself, which only came from decisions one could, ultimately, not live with. Regret and guilt destroyed absolutely everything.

  "I find," she started, a part of her still not willing to say it, to give up on short term fulfillment, "that while I will accept many things in life, I have come to understand that for me, it is an all or nothing prospect. I know I have given ample indication otherwise, but that was perhaps false and I should apologize." Shifting her gaze, she looked him in the eye.

  He didn't seem shocked or upset. "I have already learned this about you, Miss Winstone. In our time here, I have learned a great deal about you. You are both softness and steel, I think. So you are willing to give me up for your principles?" he asked, smiling.

  No, no, no, "Yes."

  Taking her hand, he placed it in the crook of his elbow, as if to walk with her. "Then I must come up to your standard, it seems. What must I do?" he said teasingly. "Bring you the newspaper each morning, send you love letters all day long? Or shall I simply sway you with kisses? You have admitted they make you question your better judgement."

  Leaning over, his lips grazed her cheek, sending swirls of decadent pleasure through her body. She jumped away, still feeling the light touch tingle along her cheek. "No, that would be much too dangerous. You will make me lose my bearings completely." She walked around the other side of a group of rose plants.

  "If not kisses, then what shall I tempt you with?" He walked along at the same pace as her, thorny plants between them. "It is the only thing I know that will soften that determination of yours." He jumped a gap and took her in his arms. "A wedding in Venice perhaps?"

  Estelle's attention was on his mouth. His kisses really were the devil. He'd just proposed to her and she didn't care; she just wanted the pleasure of his kiss. Reaching for him, he obliged, delicious warmth enveloping her, his arms pressing her to him. She was losing all thought of anything else.

  Was he truly to be her husband? She knew without a doubt that he was not a man who would toy with such things. If he proposed, he meant it. A moment of doubt speared through her. How could she marry a count? She was a simple vicar's daughter. He could have someone much more grand than her, but he had chosen her.

  Still embracing, they silently considered each other. He didn't want grand. If he did, he would have married the Countess Vaczy. The woman had been, for all intents and purposes, waiting for him to propose. "You would choose me?" she finally asked, not really intending for it to be out loud.

  "Always. Even if you say no, I am compelled to keep asking. I don't think you quite understand how un-alive I was before you wakened me. And I fought you every step of the way. But you can't revive a man and then simply leave him. It would be cruel."

  "Ugh, you're manipulating me with your words."

  "Let me try the kisses; they tend to work better."

  She smiled into the kiss, but soon forgot everything but the wonderfulness of being lost in him. He really could make her forget anything with a kiss.

  Epilogue

  "Don't fuss," Konrad said to his son as they stood in the cold San Stephano church. This was their family church here in Venice, witness to many events pertaining to this side of the family.

  "When is she coming?" Thomas asked impatiently, fidgeting with his cuff-link.

  "When she is ready."

  The priest waited patiently, and the door finally opened and Estelle appeared. She looked lovely in white, a silk dress that had just been made for her, the last stitch probably not even half an hour old.

  Her cheeks were pink—with excitement or cold, he didn't know. Smiling, she walked toward them. His side of the church had all manner of guests—friends, cousins and other acquaintances he'd gathered over the years visiting Venice.

  Her side was completely empty and there would no doubt be gossip because of it. Some would wonder if he'd stolen her away. In a manner of speaking, perhaps he had, as her plans had been to leave them and return to her home, but he'd swayed her to stay, to accept him as her family.

  There would be children, probably slightly sooner than some would expect. She and her willingness were simply too delectable to abstain from ahead of this wedding. He may well have perished if he’d been forced to. There would definitely be children. Konrad smiled at the thought as he wondered if Thomas had any idea what the castle would be like in a few years' time.

  Right now, all he could see was her as she walked toward him, a vision of beauty. Her excitement at arriving in Venice had been as palpable as Thomas' and once this wedding was done, they would explore. Thomas had already listed the things they would see, tourist attractions—things Konrad would never normally go near. For him, Venice was not about the attractions that the tourists came for, but this was his wife's first time in Venice and they would be tourists.

  Spring was definitely in the air, but it never quite reached inside these old, stone churches. In a week, they would be off to Switzerland, to take Thomas to his school. It would be sad to say goodbye, but Thomas was becoming a young man and needed to embrace this next stage in his life.

  Leaving home was difficult for a boy, but ahead of him lay his formative years and he would make close and true friends that would last him a lifetime. And on the other side of this time in his life, he would find that person, that woman, with whom he would make a home and a family.

  Looking back, his own existence before Estelle had appeared had been one long winter, dozing like the roses under a blanket of snow. Nothing in the world would compel him to go back to that, and if he could get away with hiding his wife from the world, and anyone who could possibly hurt her, he would. She would never stand for that, unfortunately, and in the end, his wife seemed to get her way. He expected the battle between keeping her safe and her exploring the world around her in her endless curiosity would be ongoing.

  Her hand was warm as she placed it in his, the warmth stealing right into his heart. She was his now. Until now, there had been that worry in the back of his mind that the sacrifice he asked of her, to give up her native land and adopt his, would be too large, but here she was, with a stunning smile and not an ounce of doubt in her eyes. Might he be the luckiest man in the world?

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  Other Books by Camille Oster

  Amongst Silk and Spice - Sir Hugo Beauford had no idea what to expect when the king summoned him from Calais, away from the battles securing the French throne for their English king. A quest to find Earl Chanderling’s wayward daughter was not something he wanted, but being a knight in the king’s service, he was duty-bound to fulfill his king’s wishes - even if the bothersome girl he remembered had last been heard of in Venice. He’d never had plans to travel as far east as Venice, let alone much farther as this quest took more effort than he could have imagined - including dragging an unwilling and continuously challenging young woman across the known world.

  http://www.amazon.com/Amongst-Silk-Spice-Camille-Oster-ebook/dp/B00RG5NWS4/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1444529810&sr=8-3&keywords=camille+oster

  The Notorious Marquis of Wickerley - With the king’s execution, madness has descended on England and Cecily Alderman’s father pushes forward the moment she’d been dreading for six years, her marriage to the most notorious libertine that ever graced the king’s court. Sent to
the wilds of Cornwall, she has to face a man exiled from all society, chased by the uncertainty and dangers of a country ripping itself apart with war.

  The contract to the Marquis of Wickerleybride might be the worst injustice her father had ever visited on her and dealing with this man who shows her no manners will prove an impossible task.

  http://www.amazon.com/Notorious-Marquis-Wickerley-Camille-Oster-ebook/dp/B014CM17HQ/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1444529810&sr=8-4&keywords=camille+oster

  Truth and Sparta – Spartan do what they please when it comes to Helot girls and Chara curses the day that Nicias—effectively an enemy of her people—lays eyes on her and decides that he wants her for himself. His attention places her and her family in an awkward position, exasperated by her brother’s increasing appetite for rebellion. Soon she is placed in a position where she needs to take decision action to save her family—no matter the cost, and that includes the building attraction she feels for the Spartan soldier who is the cause of all her problems.

  http://www.amazon.com/Truth-and-Sparta-ebook/dp/B00D0GX58U/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1379060154&sr=1-4

  Contacting the Author

  Website: http://www.camilleoster.com

  Email: camille.osternz@gmail.com

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