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The Reluctant Governess

Page 12

by Anne Mather


  Victoria returned his greeting, and said: ‘I’m afraid the Baron is out.’

  ‘I know. I saw his car in Reichstein this morning. He was on his way to lunch with the Baumanns who live in the valley beyond the village.’

  ‘I see.’ Victoria nodded. ‘So why are you here?’

  ‘To take you skiing!’ He bent to pat the dogs. ‘I thought to myself, there is Horst and Sophie away for the day. My dear fräulein Monroe will have nothing to do. I shall entertain her.’

  Victoria couldn’t restrain the smile that sprang to her lips. ‘I couldn’t possibly go out while the Baron is away,’ she exclaimed regretfully.

  ‘Why not?’

  Victoria swung round. Maria was coming through the door from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She nodded pleasantly at the doctor, and then went on:

  ‘Why can’t you go out, fräulein? If the Baron has gone to see Frau Baumann, it will be dark before he returns. Where is the harm in going out and getting some fresh air?’

  ‘My sentiments exactly,’ said Conrad enthusiastically. ‘Come along, fräulein, wouldn’t you like to be out there—on the slopes?’

  Victoria smiled. It was exactly what she would like. ‘I suppose so,’ she admitted slowly. She turned to Maria. ‘What if the Baron returns while I’m out?’

  Maria chuckled. ‘I will tell him where you have gone, fräulein, never fear. The Schloss Reichstein will not crumble in your absence.’

  Victoria sighed. ‘Oh, very well then. Will you wait while I get ready? I have no equipment, you know.’

  Conrad shook his head. ‘I have enough for two,’ he affirmed, with satisfaction. ‘Now, hurry! We don’t want to waste the light.’

  It was an exhilarating afternoon. Conrad drove to the head of the valley to where the mountains formed gentle slopes, ideal for beginners. It was some distance from the schloss in a direction Victoria had previously not traversed, but from the heights of the pass she could see the turreted chimneys of the schloss below them. The slopes were interspersed with pines, but only at the lowest point were they sufficient to warrant caution, and Conrad explained that Victoria should swerve round as she neared them and so halt herself. As it was very gentle, she found little difficulty in accomplishing this, although Conrad himself, who climbed much higher than she did, seemed to narrowly avoid being in collision with a particularly broad tree-trunk near the outer environs of the copse. Of course, his speed was greater, and she held her breath a number of times as he came hurtling down from above. He grinned at her horrified expression, however, and told her he had skied here since he was a child.

  Victoria tired first. It was exhausting; trudging up the slopes sideways seemed to take ages, and then one skied down again in a matter of seconds. Her only experience of skiing had been at St. Moritz where there was a ski-lift to transport one up the mountain. Besides, it was some time since she had done anything so energetic.

  However, when she asked if she might sit down for a while, Conrad suggested they went back to the car and there produced a flask of coffee and some cream-filled pastries which he said his mother had packed for them. Victoria accepted the coffee enthusiastically, and sat, her fingers cupping the beaker, staring out at the limitless expanses of snow on mountain. Conrad lit a cigarette, and it was very companionable sitting there in the fading light. He was an undemanding young man, and she had enjoyed his light-hearted company.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said presently, ‘are you happy at Reichstein?’

  Victoria turned to him with a smile. ‘Of course. Working with Sophie is very challenging, but very satisfying.’

  Conrad nodded. ‘She has become quite a problem child,’ he agreed. ‘Since her illness, she has had little discipline.’

  Victoria wrinkled her nose. ‘So I’ve gathered.’

  ‘But paralysis in a child can be very distressing. In an adult one feels less sympathetic, I think. Thankfully, Sophie has made a complete recovery, due in no small way to Horst’s patience. He spent hours encouraging her—teaching her how to have confidence in the exercises the physiotherapist set her. Her limbs are still painfully thin, but they respond co-ordinately.’

  ‘Sophie never mentions her mother,’ murmured Victoria tentatively.

  Conrad gave her a speculative look. ‘No,’ he agreed heavily, ‘I don’t suppose she does.’

  Victoria studied the coffee in the bottom of the beaker. ‘Did you treat Sophie when she was ill?’

  ‘No. Dr. Klein was here then. He treated her. Naturally, that was how it should be. He had attended her birth.’ Conrad tapped ash out of the car’s window. ‘Why?’

  ‘I was just curious, that’s all.’ Victoria bit her lip. It was difficult to find ways to bring the Baroness into their conversation. Obviously Conrad, like everyone else, was loath to discuss her absence. ‘Sophie was born at the schloss, then?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Conrad was regarding her rather warily, she thought.

  ‘Did you live in Reichstein at that time?’

  ‘I imagine I was away at university. Ten years ago I was nineteen.’

  Victoria nodded. ‘Of course.’ She compressed her lips. ‘I suppose you think I’m being very inquisitive.’

  Conrad frowned. ‘I think you’re trying to find out about Elsa, aren’t you?’

  Victoria coloured. ‘Elsa?’

  ‘Sophie’s mother.’

  ‘Oh!’ Victoria was disconcerted. ‘Well—yes, perhaps I am.’

  ‘Why?’

  Victoria considered his question. ‘I’m just trying to fit things together,’ she said carefully. ‘I think Sophie’s attitude is due in some way to her mother’s absence …’

  Conrad threw the butt of his cigarette out of the window. ‘Do you know something, fräulein?’ he asked dryly. ‘I think you could be right.’ Leaning forward, he inserted his keys in the ignition and switched on. The engine roared into life and Victoria looked at him swiftly.

  ‘Are we going?’

  Conrad gave her a smile. ‘Oh yes, I think so,’ he said.

  ‘You’re angry with me?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not at all. However, this conversation is getting us nowhere, and while I would like to help you I do not feel I can betray confidences carelessly.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Conrad sighed. ‘It is not up to me to tell you about Elsa, Victoria,’ he said softly. ‘Horst will tell you in his own good time, no doubt.’

  Victoria felt impatient. ‘Can I not be trusted with confidences?’

  Conrad put a hand over one of hers as it lay on her knee. ‘Victoria, were this my concern, I would not hesitate. But try to understand my position.’

  Victoria managed a faint smile. ‘I’m sorry—Conrad.’

  His eyes twinkled. ‘I was mistaken when I said our conversation was getting us nowhere,’ he remarked lightly. ‘Already you use my name and I use yours. That is good, ja?’

  Victoria chuckled softly. ‘If you say so, Conrad,’ she answered laughingly, putting all disquieting thoughts of Elsa von Reichstein to the back of her mind.

  When they arrived back at the schloss it was already dark, and Victoria was horrified to discover that it was after six.

  ‘Time flies when you are enjoying yourself,’ commented Conrad gaily. ‘We will do this again, and next time we will talk about ourselves. You have not told me anything of your life in London, and I want to know everything about you. Perhaps we could have dinner with my parents afterwards, eh?’

  Victoria stepped out of the car. ‘I don’t think we should make any definite arrangements until I know when I’ll be free,’ she temporised. ‘You’re bound to be here during the next few days to see the Baron. Perhaps we can arrange something then.’

  ‘Very well, Victoria.’ Conrad accepted his dismissal good-naturedly. ‘But you agree we will do this again?’

  Victoria allowed him to take her hand and raise it almost to his lips. ‘I hope so,’ she agreed gently, as a sudden harsh beam of light i
lluminated the courtyard. The wide doors of the great hall had been thrown open, and their silhouettes could be clearly seen from its threshold. Victoria saw the Baron standing by the door, the wolfhounds at his heels, and unaccountably, she shivered.

  ‘Hallo, Horst, mein Freund!’ Conrad called cheerfully. ‘Did you worry about us?’

  The Baron did not move. ‘You are late!’ he said bleakly.

  Conrad was unconcerned. ‘We were enjoying ourselves, Horst. We have been up to Glockenberg. I have been teaching Victoria to ski.’

  The Baron frowned. ‘The Glockenberg is dangerous,’ he said coldly. ‘There are too many trees!’

  Conrad grimaced. ‘I can take care of myself, Horst. As for Victoria, she did not climb very high. There was no danger.’

  Victoria withdrew her hand from Conrad, and with a slight smile said: ‘I must go in. Thank you for taking me, Conrad.’

  Conrad watched her cross the courtyard and then said: ‘I won’t stay, Horst. I promised my mother I would be back in time for dinner.’

  As her employer had made no suggestion that he should stay, Victoria thought Conrad was seizing a chance to escape. But even as she reached the warmth of the hall, the Baron strode past her, accompanied by the dogs, obviously intent on speaking to the young doctor. Victoria hesitated, but the Baron did not so much as accord her a passing glance, and with a faint twinge of alarm she turned and walked swiftly inside.

  In her room, she changed her clothes for emerald velvet slacks and an embroidered black sweater of heavy jersey. She combed out her hair and secured it with a black band, and then went back downstairs. She had heard the car depart while she was washing, and hoped that the Baron had not found it necessary to catechise Conrad for taking her to the Glockenberg.

  In the kitchen, Sophie was perched on the settle by the fire, talking to Maria. She was flushed and attractive, and only the clinging brown merino dress she wore spoiled her appearance. Tomorrow, thought Victoria with decision, she would tackle the question of clothes. Until now she had not discussed it with the child, but perhaps the confidence she was slowly building up would be sufficient to convince Sophie that Victoria only wanted to help her.

  ‘Hallo, Sophie,’ she said now, as she came across to the fire, the natural focal point in these huge apartments. ‘Have you had a good day?’

  Sophie gave her an indifferent stare. ‘Yes, thank you, fräulein.’

  ‘Good.’ Victoria smiled. ‘It has done us both good to get out in the air. Your cheeks are positively glowing with health.’

  Sophie bent her head. ‘You’ve been out with Dr. Zimmerman.’

  ‘That’s right. He took me skiing.’

  Sophie studied her nails. ‘Papa was angry,’ she said insinuatingly. ‘He had not given you permission to leave the schloss.’

  Victoria sighed. ‘I am not a prisoner, you know, Sophie. I don’t have to have a pass to come and go as I please.’ She looked pointedly at Maria. ‘Isn’t that so?’

  Maria shrugged. ‘If you say so, fräulein.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, what is this!’ Victoria’s nerves were a little on edge to begin with after the Baron’s forbidding welcome, and now this was absolutely the end. ‘You said it would be perfectly all right for me to go with Dr. Zimmerman. You practically encouraged me to go.’

  Maria folded her arms. ‘I’m not denying anything, fräulein.’

  ‘Not much!’ Victoria moved impatiently. ‘Anyway, it’s done now, and can’t be undone! What are we having for dinner?’

  Sophie looked up. ‘You’re scared of Papa, aren’t you, fräulein?’

  Victoria glared at her. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous! Of course I’m not scared of him!’

  Sophie smirked. ‘Well, why are you so upset, then? Just because I said Papa wasn’t pleased about you going out with Dr. Zimmerman.’

  ‘I don’t like being treated like a child, Sophie! If I choose to go out, I shall go. Is that understood?’ Victoria was breathing hard.

  ‘Perfectly, fräulein,’ answered a deep, cold voice, which she instantly recognised. ‘However, I hesitate to remind you that you are hardly a free agent!’

  Victoria turned, aware that both Maria and Sophie were watching her. They would enjoy this, she thought angrily.

  ‘You were away for the day, Herr Baron,’ she replied, equally coldly. ‘I saw no harm in accompanying Dr. Zimmerman to—to—--’

  ‘Glockenberg,’ supplied the Baron briefly.

  ‘That’s right.’ Victoria clenched her fists. ‘I expected to be back before you and Sophie. Maria knew where I had gone.’

  The Baron raised his dark brows. ‘Do you know Dr. Zimmerman well enough to spend several hours alone in his company?’ he queried icily.

  Victoria sighed. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You know nothing about Dr. Zimmerman. He is an acquaintance, no more. Hardly sufficient background to estimate his trustworthiness!’

  ‘Oh, really!’ Victoria stared at him. ‘This is not the Middle Ages! You don’t really expect me to believe you were worried about my morals—--’

  The Baron’s lips thinned. ‘Are you contradicting me, fräulein?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’ Victoria seethed with indignation. ‘Conrad Zimmerman is a friend of yours. He’s also a doctor. Do you expect me to believe a man in his position would run the risk of ruining his reputation by taking advantage of one of your—your—servants!’ The word stuck in her throat.

  The Baron chewed his lower lip. ‘All right, all right, I’ll accept that Dr. Zimmerman is a trustworthy young man. That does not also make him wholly responsible. He has had accidents before on the Glockenberg. He once broke his collar-bone there. Did he tell you that?’

  Victoria frowned. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘But there was no danger today. We did not climb very high.’

  The Baron uttered an exclamation. ‘You cannot say that with all certainty,’ he snapped. ‘In any event, I forbid you to go skiing with that young man again.’

  Victoria was flabbergasted. ‘You forbid—me?’

  ‘That’s right, fräulein. So long as you are in my employ, you will obey my commands.’

  Sophie’s face mirrored her delight, and Victoria felt incensed. ‘You cannot control all my movements, Herr Baron,’ she retorted. ‘In my free time, I will do as I like.’

  The Baron’s eyes glittered. ‘I will not be treated in this manner, fräulein. Whether you like it or not, you will do as I say!’

  Victoria held up her head. ‘And if I refuse? What then?’ She brushed past a startled Maria and walked stiffly to the door. But before leaving the room, she turned, regarding the Baron disparagingly. ‘I suppose if I disobey you, I’ll find myself locked in the north tower,’ she remarked tauntingly, and with that she left the room before anyone could stop her.

  It wasn’t until she was in her room that she realised the enormity of what she had done. She had ridiculed the Baron in front of Sophie and Maria, and made a fool of herself into the bargain. Why had she let his arrogance get under her skin? He knew as well as she did that he could not prevent her from going out with Conrad if she wanted to, and she should have allowed him his moment of anger and then forgotten it. As it was she had created an impossible situation, and she wasn’t at all sure how she was going to get out of it …

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  VICTORIA didn’t go down for dinner after all. It was cowardly not to do so, she supposed, but somehow she couldn’t face Maria after her argument with the Baron. By now, Maria would have regaled Gustav with the story, and while they might not say anything, there would be an interchange of glances every now and then, and Victoria would know what they were thinking.

  At half past seven, she knew she would have to go and see her employer. There was nothing else to do, and unless she did, she would not rest.

  With palpitating heart, she descended the tower stairs and turned left towards the great hall. The Baron was obviously dining in his study, for the hall was deserted apart fr
om the dogs. Pushing open the door to the east wing, she stood for a moment in the corridor, calming her nerves, and mentally going over what she would say. Then she walked determinedly to the door of his study before she was tempted to turn back.

  She tapped lightly on the panels, half hoping he would not hear her and therefore enable her to give up her intent with an acceptable excuse. But the Baron’s ears were very acute, and she heard his brief: ‘Herein!’ a moment after her knock.

  With trembling fingers she turned the handle and pushed open the door. Taking a step inside, she said: ‘May I have a word with you, Herr Baron?’

  The Baron was lounging behind his desk, the remains of his, and Sophie’s, meal spread about its surface. Sophie was curled up on a rug in front of the fire, glancing through a magazine.

  The Baron got abruptly to his feet at Victoria’s entrance, drawing his brows together in a deep frown. ‘Ja, fräulein!’ His voice was emotionless.

  Sophie looked up, regarding her governess challengingly, and Victoria knew it was going to be much harder apologising in front of the child. She might just as well call Maria and Gustav in here too, for Sophie would find great pleasure in relating all this to them.

  Now she realised the Baron was regarding her with some impatience and wetting her dry lips with her tongue, she hastened into speech: ‘I—I wanted to talk to you—I mean—I wanted to—to—discuss what—happened earlier.’

  The Baron inclined his head. ‘Indeed, fräulein?’

  ‘Yes.’ Victoria bit her lip, and took a deep breath. ‘What I mean to say is—well—--’ She broke off unhappily, and her employer turned and glanced down at his daughter.

  ‘Sophie,’ he said, ‘I think fräulein Monroe would find it easier to talk to me if you were not present.’

  Sophie looked up with indignant eyes. ‘But, Papa,’ she exclaimed, ‘I’m not listening to fräulein Monroe! I’m reading.’

 

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