While the girls giggled at that, Travers continued, ‘Then there was the time you two boys decided to climb Hunscombe Hill, looking for abandoned mine shafts that might contain pirate treasure. Came back covered in coal dust.’
Hugh laughed ruefully. ‘I remember that all too vividly! When Papa discovered where we’d been, I got an unforgettable ear-blistering about the dangers mine shafts posed for reckless boys, plus the promise of a caning if we ever strayed there again.’ His mirth fading, he turned to Miss Overton. ‘I think all the shafts have been boarded up by now, but just in case, don’t take the girls climbing on Hunscombe Hill.’
‘Duly noted,’ she replied, amusement in her voice—at his youthful indiscretions, no doubt.
‘Although Mama’s revelation that there were no pirates around Bristol—most of the free trading in the British Isles took place on the Cornish and Devon coasts—was nearly as daunting to us as Papa’s scold. She cheered us up, though, by going on to tell us tales of Caribbean pirates. Which I believe, girls, is what first interested your papa in living there.’
‘Please, can you tell us more stories?’ Elizabeth begged.
Over another cup of tea, Travers obliged her. Hugh settled back to listen, chuckling at his boyhood escapades—and watching Miss Overton. While listening attentively, she assisted Travers, made sure the girls were comfortable and seemed content to sit back and enjoy the moment, without needing to participate or be the centre of attention.
Not that she was meek or retiring, like the governesses he remembered from India. She had instead an air of quiet competence, a self-confidence that announced she didn’t need attention or reassurance from others to feel important or worthy.
What a serene, comforting presence she exuded! No wonder her two charges had gravitated to her so quickly.
She’d already smoothed his path in several major ways. What would it be like to have someone as competent—and attractive—as Olivia Overton beside him, smoothing the way permanently?
He squelched the thought as soon as it formed. Before he started having adolescent visions of happy homes and willing helpmates, he needed to remember how what he’d thought was a firm friendship, underscored by love and a strong physical bond, had disintegrated into anger, recrimination and betrayal. It made him sick to imagine the warm feelings he had for Miss Overton ending in such a bitter fashion.
No, he would admire Miss Overton’s handling of the girls, appreciate her physical allure from afar and leave it at that.
* * *
When tea had been drunk and the tarts finished, Miss Overton stood. ‘Time to be heading back to Somers Abbey, girls. You must thank Mrs Travers for your tea and treats, but most especially for those stories about your papa.’
The adults and the girls rose and exchanged bows and curtsies. ‘Can we visit you again and hear more stories?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘Of course, my child,’ Travers replied, patting the girl’s hand. ‘Come visit me any time Miss Overton can bring you.’
‘Miss Overton, would you escort the girls back to the village? You might see if the baker has any more of those tarts they might take back to Somers Abbey. I’ll have a word with Mrs Travers and meet you at the livery.’
‘Of course,’ Miss Overton responded. ‘Thank you for a delightful tea, Mrs Travers. We now have a store of anecdotes about their papa—and the Colonel—that the girls may talk about over and over again for the foreseeable future.’
‘Alas, I’ve been left with only the shreds of my dignity,’ Hugh said, slapping a hand to his chest in a dramatic fashion that made the girls giggle.
As the children said their goodbyes and Mrs Travers walked them out, Hugh put a hand on Miss Overton’s shoulder, staying her when she went to follow. ‘I’ll discuss the housekeeper’s position with Travers,’ he said softly. ‘If she’s agreeable, I’ll see how soon she might be able to take it up.’
‘The sooner, the better,’ she murmured. ‘You’ll want someone ready to start immediately, once you’ve determined exactly what Mrs Wallace has been up to. If Cook or Mansfield should happen to mention I was curious about the cost of goods, she might get suspicious.’
For a moment longer, he savoured the feel of his hand on her shoulder, the delicate curve of bone and warmth of skin under his fingers, before he made himself let go.
‘We’ll talk more after I know something,’ he continued, stepping away, acutely conscious of how his heartbeat—and other parts of his body—surged at her nearness. Could she sense it as well? Perhaps so, for she avoided his gaze.
The knowledge both pleased—and concerned him.
You must stop indulging yourself and keep your distance, the voice of reason growled in his ear.
Trying to shake off the distracting sensations, he said, ‘Would you mind if I delay our drive around the estate? I’d like to drop you back at the Abbey and return to the village to make some enquiries among the merchants.’
‘Of course, we can tour the estate another day. Though you will have to confront Mrs Wallace soon, if you talk prices and provisions with the shopkeepers,’ she cautioned. ‘Having the master himself enquire about such things will be so unusual, it’s bound to cause speculation and she’s sure to hear about it.’
‘I plan to be ready, perhaps as early as this evening. Now you’d better catch up to your charges.’
With that, he sent her towards the door and waited for the lady’s maid to return. And indulged himself by watching the graceful movement of her lithe body until she disappeared from sight.
Chapter Fourteen
After settling her charges in bed and reading them several stories—she was happy to indulge them and delay returning to her silent room as they were to hear the tales—Olivia walked with a sigh back to her chamber. For the second night, she’d dined with the children, which made the dinner hour much livelier. But after they were fed and put to bed, there was no escaping the lonely desolation of her empty chamber.
The Colonel was dining with the Squire again tonight. She tried to resist the strong urge to go to the library and linger there, her excuse the desire to do a more thorough survey of its contents, so she might still be present when he returned home. Perhaps to chat for a few moments, or offer to play Beethoven for him again.
She smiled as she wandered down the hallway, recalling the stories Travers had related about the Colonel’s boyhood escapades. It warmed her heart to hear how adventuresome, optimistic and full of life he’d once been—and how relaxed he’d appeared, laughing with Travers at the memories. More relaxed and at ease than she’d yet seen him.
He seemed to be doing better with the girls, too, able to look them in the eye while he talked to them, his smile when he did so less forced and more natural. After catching tantalising glimpses now and then—those smiles in the cottage today, his hearty laughter at Travers’s stories—she felt even more driven to try to bring back to him the warmth of the children’s love—and perhaps let him recover more of the man he’d been before the tragedies in India.
She halted before her doorway, dithering, before deciding to head to the library after all. She would make a cursory inventory of its contents and choose a book to engage her. But she would not be so pathetically weak as to linger until her employer returned.
* * *
True to her resolve, a little over an hour later Olivia returned to her room, several books in hand. Knowing how early the Colonel must rise to ride out, she hadn’t dared remain there any longer if she truly meant to avoid him.
It hadn’t been the same as dining or conversing with him, but just being in the library had cheered her. There was so much essence of him in that room—the estate ledgers stacked on the desk, the brandy decanters and glasses on the sideboard, a vague lingering odour of tobacco, the battered but comfortable leather chairs before the hearth that she guessed he would not replace, even when the estate’s finances
improved, their cushions indented as if he’d just arisen from one and would return any minute.
She could almost imagine herself seated beside him, conversing about fields and drainage and the progress of the apple crop.
Warmth curling in her belly, she remembered the tingling of her hand when he’d kissed it in the library. The heat of his palm grasping her shoulder in Travers’s cottage today.
Making a life in Somerset wouldn’t hold the same thrill as fighting on the sidelines to forward the major legislation of the day, but what a contented life it could be! What sensual delights it might offer...
And she really needed to stop indulging in these idiotic daydreams once and for all, she told herself, angrily bringing that line of wistful imagining to a halt.
Yes, there was an attraction between them. Yes, she believed the Colonel had come to value her—perhaps even hold her in some affection. But he had also made it quite clear that, despite those facts, he was not prepared to offer anything beyond temporary employment. And perhaps a respectful friendship.
She couldn’t give in to the temptation to use the physical attraction he was fighting to resist to lure him into anything more and keep her self-respect.
She must accept that the most she would ever be to him was a valued employee—who would be discharged as soon as one of his female relatives agreed to take over raising the girls.
On that deflating note, she entered her room—to find Mrs Wallace waiting for her, arms crossed, a furious expression on her face.
‘Not dining with the Quality tonight?’ the housekeeper said scornfully. ‘Ah, that’s right—you’re only Quality enough to dine with gentlemen here, not good enough to be invited by the neighbours. But my, how you do keep trying to rise above your station!’
In no mood to put up with the housekeeper’s insults, Olivia said shortly, ‘Did you wish to see me about something?’
‘Indeed I did,’ the woman said, walking around the chamber, running her hand over the polished mahogany of the dresser, the silken edge of the counterpane on the bed. ‘I should have thought by now that you would understand it’s me who takes care of all these fine things—a position I intend to keep. So you may as well abandon your attempts to try to replace me.’
‘Replace you?’ Olivia echoed, startled.
Tread carefully, she told herself, not sure how much the housekeeper knew.
‘It has never been my intent to take up the housekeeper’s position,’ she replied at last.
Mrs Wallace gave a disdainful sniff. ‘So you say. Why else would you be flitting about, trying to impress everyone with your talents? Offering to sew gowns for those orphan brats. Chatting with Cook and Mansfield over the price of goods, as if you actually knew anything about victualling a household! Most especially you should stop trying to entice the master with your satin gowns and your sly cream-puff ways. Do you really think he could want an ageing, dried-up spinster like you when he could have any of the young ladies in the country, if he so much as looked in their direction? When his first wife was an accomplished Beauty?’
Blast the woman. She knew just where to insert her poisonous knife. Olivia had no doubts about her competence to manage the girls or the house. But the attraction between her and the Colonel... Plain though she was, she was almost sure the feeling was mutual, that they were both struggling to resist it.
‘Good and well you look troubled,’ the woman continued, an expression of triumph on her face at having hit her mark. ‘My, if you could only hear what the Colonel and Mr Saulter used to say about you in the breakfast room over their coffee and toast of a morning! Laughing at your airs and mocking your pathetic attempts to play the Great Lady!’
‘I think you’ve said quite enough,’ came a deadly quiet voice from the doorway. Both women whirled to face it, Olivia feeling sick as she recognised the Colonel. Just how much of the woman’s vitriol had he overheard?
Surely he and Mr Saulter hadn’t really...mocked her behind her back.
‘Mrs Wallace, you will attend me in the library at once. Miss Overton, I would appreciate your coming along as well.’
Spots of colour burned in the housekeeper’s cheeks at having been caught haranguing the governess, but despite the icy anger in her employer’s voice, she walked out with her spine erect and her head held high. The woman’s ugly words touching her deepest vulnerability, Olivia couldn’t bear to look at him as she passed by.
They proceeded in silence to the library, the Colonel shutting the door behind them before walking over to his desk. ‘I will postpone, for the moment, any comment on your effrontery in attacking Miss Overton. First, I should like you to explain this, if you can.’
From the drawer of his desk, he pulled out a large leather bag. Olivia heard the unmistakable clink of coins when he dropped it on the desktop.
Mrs Wallace’s face went white, then flushed. ‘I... I am in the habit of putting by as much of my salary as possible. I’ve done so for years.’
‘So you don’t attempt to deny this bag is yours. Interesting that I only turned it up after a thorough search of your quarters—and remembering the old housekeeper’s desk had a secret drawer.’
‘Of...of course I would want to keep it in a safe place. I’m counting on it to keep me comfortable in my declining years.’
‘Amassing a sum like that would have required you to save more than your entire salary for all the years you’ve been employed here. Still, that explanation might have been somewhat credible, had I not been tipped off to check the entries in the housekeeping book.’
‘I can’t imagine what—’ she blustered before stopping short and turning to Olivia. ‘You!’ she accused furiously. ‘This is all your doing! It’s you who’s been meddling in things not your business, interrogating the other servants, trying to discredit me!’
‘Given your attempts to discredit Miss Overton, you might have been able to argue that she planted evidence against you out of spite,’ the Colonel answered back. ‘But I’ve had a chat with our providers in the village. Claiming I wished to reconstruct entries in our account book that was damaged by an accidental spill of wine, I had them check their own ledgers and detail the prices paid for goods delivered to Somers Abbey over the last year. Which I then compared to the figures in your book. Given the amount in this bag, I suspect I could have gone back further than a year and found the same results.’
For a few long moments, the housekeeper remained silent, as if trying to find some explanation that might exonerate her. Finally, she burst out, ‘It should have been mine—yes, that and even more! I gave Charles everything—my honour, my loyalty! I should have been mistress of Somers Abbey, and so I might have become, had he not died so suddenly! Then you came and there was nothing I could do to get back my position. What was I to do? Charles owed me more than to have me thrust back into being a lowly housekeeper!’
‘How soon after I inherited did you begin collecting what you thought was due you?’ the Colonel retorted. Then, waving his hand, he continued, ‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter. I could have you transported for this, you know. The only reason I might refrain from seeing you prosecuted to the full extent of the law is to avoid scandal and the possibility of bringing dishonour on my brother’s name. But I warn you, if you deviate in the slightest from my instructions, I will have you bound over for trial.’
‘Of course, we must spare the Glendennings and Somers Abbey from scandal,’ she said bitterly.
The Colonel fixed her with a level stare. ‘I understand life in the penal colonies isn’t very...pleasant.’
‘What do you want, then?’
‘You will be paid your last quarter’s salary—only the last quarter. You will leave here by daybreak tomorrow, most certainly without my writing you a character. Where you go after that is your own business, but if I ever see or hear of you in Somerset again, I will prosecute. Do you understand?’
‘You don’t give me much choice, do you?’ she muttered, defiant to the last.
‘Indeed.’
After a moment, she nodded.
‘Very well. By daybreak, I expect to find no trace of you at Somers Abbey. You may go now.’ He waved his hand towards the door.
‘Take care you do not end up lying in the same bed,’ she growled at Olivia as she passed.
As soon as the door closed, the Colonel went to the sideboard, poured two glasses of wine and waved her to a chair. He handed her a glass, from which she took a grateful sip.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, studying her face anxiously. ‘I hope you didn’t let her spiteful venom upset you.’
‘Reeling from the attack, but recovering,’ she managed to say, trying to tell herself the housekeeper’s hurtful claims were only jealous invective.
‘When I went to the kitchen to find her, Mary warned me she’d been ranting about going to your room and “putting you in your place”. Wretched woman!’
‘She did seem to be working up to a veritable harangue,’ Olivia said, trying for a bit of humour. ‘So, the shopkeepers provided evidence to confirm that she had been stealing money from the household funds?’
‘Yes. Only a small amount at first, but as the scheme continued undetected, she grew bolder. She must have guessed, after she became sole keeper of the ledger, it was unlikely I would discover her thievery. Even when I review the books annually, checking current expenditures in order to estimate what will be required in the following year, I wouldn’t have thought to go round to the various merchants and double-check that the figures listed in the ledger were correct.’ He shook his head. ‘Heaven protect us from a woman scorned.’
The Tempting of the Governess Page 16