The Tempting of the Governess

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The Tempting of the Governess Page 9

by Julia Justiss


  On the other hand, his good friend had been a witness to the bleakest, most devastating events in his life, tragedies he had no desire to be reminded of or discuss.

  But as he’d left India he’d given Stephen a blanket invitation to visit, if it proved convenient when he was on home leave, so Hugh could hardly send him packing.

  Besides, his friend was intelligent and compassionate. He would no doubt sense the topics Hugh would rather not address and avoid them.

  * * *

  So, little more than half an hour later, he was striding into his library, where he found his friend seated on the sofa, scanning a book. Hearing Hugh enter, Saulter hopped up and came over to meet him.

  ‘Stephen, how good it is to see you!’ Hugh said, shaking the hand his friend extended. ‘You’re looking very well. I actually didn’t expect you until next month. Has Mansfield made you comfortable? After coming so far, you must stay a few days.’

  ‘He has and, if it will not interfere too much with your work, I will make a short stay. Yes, I’d not thought to travel until next month, but there was a ship leaving sooner, so I took it. I must say, I’d been savouring the idea of home leave. It’s been far too long since I was back in England.’

  ‘How goes the civil service?’

  Stephen shrugged. ‘As slowly as ever. But at least I’m not being shot at, like when we were in the army. Unlike you, I didn’t end up inheriting land in England, so I must make my fortune where I can.’

  ‘And have you made your fortune?’

  ‘I’m no nabob, but I’m doing well enough.’

  ‘Excellent. Then you’re faring better than I am.’

  Stephen nodded. ‘You wrote that you’d found the estate in rather bad order. You must have been working your fingers to the bone, for it appears much more prosperous than you led me to believe.’

  ‘The fields and farms are recovering. But as a cursory glance at the house has undoubtedly shown you, there’s still so much to be done, I’m rather embarrassed to have you visit now. If only you could see Somers Abbey the way it was when I was a boy!’

  ‘I know you’ll bring it back. You were always the cleverest and hardest worker among us. But you are looking a bit grim. Do you ever get out, see neighbours, attend parties? Life shouldn’t be all nose-to-the-grindstone, you know. I wouldn’t have you turning into a hermit.’

  Hugh smiled wryly. ‘I’m not that bad. I spend a lot of time among the tenants, but I don’t visit much with neighbouring landowners. My bachelor establishment isn’t really set up for entertaining, and I don’t like to accept invitations I am not able to reciprocate.’

  He braced himself, but thankfully Stephen did not come back with the usual riposte about a single gentleman of property being welcome everywhere. Having confirmed that his friend would be discreet enough not to press him about his widower status, some of his inner tension relaxed.

  But that didn’t mean he’d cleared every fence of possible obstacles from the past. He paused, knowing it would be better to tell his friend of his new responsibilities before Stephen stumbled, perhaps literally, over his wards. Mentioning them might open a topic he was as eager to avoid as the subject of marriage, but it needed to be done.

  Finally, trying to summon a light tone, he said, ‘I recently had a new obligation laid on my plate. I believe I wrote you that I’d accepted the guardianship of my cousin’s girls.’

  ‘Yes, you did. I thought, under the circumstances, it was very handsome of you to agree to take up that charge.’

  He grimaced ruefully. ‘One should be careful what good deeds one undertakes. My cousin died unexpectedly about six months ago, activating my guardianship.’

  ‘My condolences on your loss. You were close, were you not?’

  ‘When we were boys, yes. But with him in St Kitts and me in India, we’d drifted apart.’

  ‘At least your wards are far away.’

  ‘They were. Until about two weeks ago, when they showed up on my doorstep. My cousin’s second wife, who had a child of her own, apparently didn’t want to bother with them, and shipped them across the Atlantic with a couple returning to England. With, I might add, neither my knowledge nor my consent.’

  Stephen stated at him in astonishment. ‘She sent them abroad without asking their guardian’s permission?’

  ‘She did. I had to scramble to find them a governess. I’m still in the process of searching through the family tree to turn up some respectable female who might oversee raising them.’

  Hugh held his breath, but Stephen merely looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I’m...sorry you had to take this on. It must be difficult for you.’

  ‘It is,’ Hugh admitted, relieved that Stephen hadn’t initiated a discussion of the events around Drew’s death. ‘But it was past time for me to acknowledge my own losses and move on to deal with theirs. As my wards’ governess brought home to me quite pointedly.’

  ‘Did she!’ Stephen exclaimed. ‘How impertinent! I trust you put her in her place.’

  ‘To be fair, when she was taking me to task for avoiding my wards, she didn’t know about...about Drew.’ Envisioning Miss Overton, his lips quirked in a smile. ‘And the governess is not a female one can easily put in her place.’

  ‘An old dragon, is she?’

  ‘Not at all. She’s rather young, actually—but a fervent champion of her charges and not shy about giving her opinion. Quite an intelligent and capable female. I know nothing of her circumstances, but her behaviour makes it quite clear that she was accustomed to moving in genteel circles. I suspect some sudden reversal of the family fortunes must have sent her into service.’

  ‘So she’s gently bred?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘She has something to say for herself—she’s not meek and mealy-mouthed like the governesses who occasionally dined with us in India?’

  ‘Definitely not.’

  ‘Then you must invite her to dine with us tonight! Come now, admit it, I doubt you have even set foot in your dining room since returning home. I expect you eat on a tray in your library.’

  Stephen knew him too well. ‘Most nights,’ he admitted. ‘But in my defence, most nights I don’t return to the Abbey until quite late.’

  ‘Well, we’ll return at the proper hour for dinner tonight. Is Mrs Potter still your cook? I remember you singing her praises in India! I imagine she can whip up something suitable even on short notice. Take at least one night to have a proper dinner in a proper dining room with a properly well-bred female at your table.’

  When he hesitated, Stephen declared, ‘Come now, I’m not proposing you make a habit of it! But as long as the governess is suitably well bred, most families include her on occasion. For holidays, or when they need to make the numbers even. Surely your dear friend’s visit counts as a holiday.’

  ‘She does take excellent care of the girls, which takes the burden of assuring their welfare off me, for which I am grateful. I imagine she used to be accustomed to dining in company, so I don’t think it would make her uncomfortable.’

  ‘Good. Send her a note and tell her we’ll expect her. In the meantime, you can give me a tour of the estate. After the arid dust of the Indian plains, how nice it is to ride through the beautiful green, green England countryside!’

  ‘Very well, I’ll invite her. We’ll see if she deigns to attend.’

  ‘Deigns to attend? Granted it’s a request, not a command, but you are her employer, aren’t you? Merely inviting her should be sufficient to expect an acceptance.’

  Hugh smiled. ‘You don’t know Miss Overton.’

  Stephen smiled back at him. ‘You make me very curious to meet her. So, write that note and let’s head for the stables.’

  As his friend settled back with his book, Hugh went to his desk. But as he prepared to write, his smile faded.

  He’d tried not to
think of his inappropriate reaction to Miss Overton in the attic yesterday. When he’d tugged her curl free of the beam and gazed down at her, the energy and sheer feminine essence of her had wrapped itself around him like an enchantment. He’d so lost his grip on where he was and what he was supposed to do that he’d actually bent down to kiss her.

  Fortunately, his watchful brain recognised the outrage his eager body was leading him into and halted him before he committed so dreadful a misstep.

  He really needed to keep her at a safe distance.

  Apparently it was not enough to remind himself she was his employee. Or to tell himself that she was tall, rather plain and quite opinionated. Despite these facts, there was something about her—a strength of personality, her zeal, her vibrant intelligence—that illumined her undistinguished features and made her far more attractive than her mere physical attributes might have suggested.

  She tempted him far more than he wanted to be tempted.

  But he could see no way to refuse to ask her to dine without seeming churlish—or inviting a closer scrutiny of his feelings for her than he’d want Stephen to undertake.

  She probably would enjoy attending a dinner more like the ones to which she was formerly accustomed. Suspended in a social void, neither a member of the staff below stairs nor truly belonging with her employer above stairs, she must eat alone, or with her charges, he suddenly realised. What a lonely existence for such a vibrant spirit!

  Besides, with Stephen present to entertain her, he probably wouldn’t have to say much. Having spent his manhood in India, where society ladies were scarce enough that even the plainest were charmed, flattered and flirted with, his friend would be delighted to engage the intelligent and well-spoken Miss Overton in conversation.

  He might even tease out something about her background—a matter about which Hugh was much more curious than he should be.

  * * *

  Meanwhile, after having decided the warm, sunny day practically obligated her to spirit her charges from the chilly nursery to explore out of doors, Olivia spent the morning taking the girls on a long, rambling walk. They’d returned tired and happily burdened with leaf treasures, a few bird feathers, some interesting rocks and thoroughly muddy hems.

  Although her expedition to the attic with the Colonel had removed the need to consult the former lady’s maid Mansfield had mentioned on the location of schoolroom material, she probably ought to visit that lady anyway. Mansfield had told her Travers did the laundering of the household’s fine work. The girls’ cotton dresses boasted elaborate embroidery around the hems and cuffs and safely removing the mud of this morning’s excursion from the delicate stitching was going to require a good bit of work.

  Along with introducing herself and delivering the gowns, amid apologies for their excessively soiled condition, she might just discover a bit more about her intriguing employer.

  After all, if she wished to have the best chance to successfully manage the delicate process of bringing about a rapprochement between guardian and wards, she needed to know as much as possible about the Colonel’s life before, and especially during, his sojourn abroad. The woman who’d been his mother’s close companion might well know a great deal about the Colonel’s time in India—and the tragedies that had befallen him there. Olivia didn’t intend to pry, but if the lady felt like imparting something about that, she certainly wouldn’t stop her.

  So, after settling the girls, exhausted from their lengthy stroll after so many weeks cooped up in ships, carriages and the nursery, she bundled up the soiled dresses, tracked down the butler for directions and to ask that the tweeny be sent up to keep watch over the girls until her return, then set off for Somers village.

  The mile walk was pleasant, the road bordered alternately by apple orchards, stands of willow trees, broad meadows and fields of crops in new, green growth. She hadn’t been able to observe too much from the carriage window upon her arrival and her trip to Bristol had taken her in the opposite direction, but it appeared the acreage owned by the Somers Abbey estate was extensive.

  The girls had loved their explorations today and she would enjoy taking them still further afield. She knew she must not ask the understaffed house for a guide, but perhaps she could request the Colonel to draw, or lend her, a map of the estate.

  Even better, if she phrased the proposition carefully enough, perhaps she could persuade him to take them all on a drive around the property. Perhaps coax him to point out favourite areas from his growing-up years?

  Cheered by that thought, she soon reached the village, where an obliging shop owner gave her more explicit directions to Brookside Cottage. A few minutes later, she found the small dwelling situated in a pretty grove near a babbling stream.

  Her knock was answered by a small, slim, neatly dressed lady whose silver hair was pinned up under a cap. ‘Mrs Travers?’ Olivia asked.

  Inspecting her with obvious curiosity, the lady said, ‘Yes. How may I help you?’

  ‘I’m Miss Overton, governess to the wards recently come to live with Colonel Glendenning at Somers Abbey. Whom I’m sure you’ve heard about, staff and village gossip being what it is!’ Holding out her bundle, she continued, ‘I could have sent these over with the other laundry from the Abbey, but I thought I’d bring them myself, with apologies. After crossing an ocean and then coming from London by carriage, the two girls have had so little time out in the fresh air that I’m afraid I was a bit too indulgent. While exploring the woods and streams and collecting treasures, they also collected an unaccountable amount of mud on their skirts. I fear it will take rather more time than normally required to launder the gowns without damaging the fine embroidery.’

  Travers could have simply accepted the bundle and bid her good day, but as Olivia had hoped, the opportunity to obtain a first-hand account about recent events at the manor where she’d spent so much of her life was too enticing for the former lady’s maid to resist. Pulling her door open wider, she said, ‘Why don’t you come in while I take a closer look?’

  ‘Thank you, I would like that.’

  ‘Will you take some refreshment after your long walk? I could fix us some tea.’

  ‘That would be lovely also.’

  ‘Have a seat by the hearth and I’ll put the kettle on.’

  The cottage was small, but immaculately clean and well furnished, with comfortable chairs by the hearth, rag rugs on the floor, a dining table and chairs near the tiny kitchen and a door leading to what must be a bedchamber beyond. All in all, a fine place of retirement for an employee who had given a lifetime of service to Somers Abbey.

  She hoped Mansfield would have a similar cottage when he gave up his post.

  A few minutes later, Travers returned with a tray full of tea things and sat down beside her. As she fixed cups and poured, she said, ‘So, it’s true, then! I had heard that the Colonel had recently taken charge of his cousin’s little girls. So sad, them losing their papa at such a young age. What a fine young man he was!’

  ‘You were acquainted with the girls’ father?’

  ‘Oh, yes! Young Master Robert visited Somers Abbey often as a boy. He and Master Hugh were particularly close, so I wasn’t surprised to hear he’d made the Colonel guardian to his children.’ She paused. ‘Though I was somewhat surprised to learn the Colonel had accepted the responsibility. And beyond shocked to discover the girls had been sent over willy-nilly from St Kitts! How...how has the Colonel been handling it, having them at Somers Abbey?’

  ‘It has been...difficult for him,’ Olivia replied. ‘I’m afraid I inadvertently made things worse, initially. You see, I had no idea when I arrived to take charge of the girls that he had lost his wife and child. The hiring agency told me only that the children’s guardian was a military man who’d returned to England from India.’

  She took a deep breath, choosing her words with care. ‘Now that I do know, I should like
to make the task of discharging that duty as easy on him as I can. I’d appreciate any advice you might offer that would help me do that.’

  Travers nodded. ‘It’s kind of you to wish to make such an effort. How much do you know about the Colonel?’

  ‘Only that he lost his wife and child in India.’

  ‘What a sad business that was! Especially when one considers how excited he was when he went to India with his new wife, seven years ago. Although, even then, there was somewhat of a dust-up about their leaving.’

  ‘Did his family not wish him to go?’

  ‘It wasn’t his family that opposed it, it was his wife’s parents. Miss Lydia grew up not far from Somers Abbey and, as children, the two were boon companions. Then, when Master Hugh returned after his years at Eton and Oxford and found Miss Lydia grown into a beautiful young lady, they fell in love and planned to marry. All was well until Miss Lydia’s parents learned Master Hugh meant to take a commission and go out to India. They tried to talk their daughter out of marrying him and, when that failed, pleaded with her to stay in England and let him go alone, arguing her delicate constitution couldn’t withstand the rigours of such a climate. She wouldn’t hear of it, of course, so eventually her parents relented, they married and off they went together.’

  ‘How romantic.’

  ‘It was,’ Travers confirmed, smiling, a faraway look in her eyes. ‘What a beautiful bride she made, so small and blonde and delicate, Master Hugh so tall and commanding in his regimentals, and both of them just aglow with happiness.’ Her smile fading, she sighed. ‘But it appears her parents knew her better than Master Hugh. From her son’s letters, my mistress learned that Miss Lydia wasn’t happy in India. We’d hoped that after the baby came, she might be more content, but having a child seemed to make her even more anxious and eager to return home. And then...’ Her words trailed off and she sighed again.

 

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