A Very Unusual Governess
Page 9
She stared at herself in the mirror and wondered what would happen later, when her charade was over. If they met in London next year would she, could she attract him when he knew her for what she really was, the youngest daughter of the Earl of Warnham, and the owner of Wychford? He was a presentable and eligible male—there must be any number of ladies in society who would wish to claim him for themselves. Still, she could look quite pretty when her hair wasn’t screwed into an unbecoming knot…and her family connections were impeccable.
She gazed at her mirror, but saw a man’s dark face there. How strong he was! He had swung himself up that tree with no difficulty at all, and had afterwards saved her from falling. Then, when he had held her, kissed her, she had felt the strength in those arms, the power of his muscular body…Octavia passed her fingers slowly over her lips. He had seemed angry with her, but the kiss had not been at all rough. It had been gentle, tender, comforting. Not at all what she would have expected from a man like Edward Barraclough. Even when the kiss had changed, it had still in some strange way been tender. That kiss…It had aroused sensations inside her which were new and almost frightening. There was danger in such a kiss…
What would it be like if a man had a right to hold you like that? If you could let him take you even more closely into his arms without feeling you had to protest? For the first time in her life, Octavia considered what it must be like to be married—to a man like Edward Barraclough, say…This gave rise to such a feeling of longing that her eyes widened in shock, and she jumped up, away from the mirror and its dark, enticing images. What was she thinking of? One kiss and she was ready to abandon Tom Payne and his like, ready to let her blond hero vanish into the past, prepared to put a…a black-haired ogre in his place? Mr Barraclough was nothing to her! Nothing! How he would laugh if he could see her now, languishing over his image in her mirror! A man of experience like Edward Barraclough would take such kisses in his stride, hardly even notice them. Of course he would forget it!
Octavia pulled herself together with steely determination. The kiss had meant very little to him and it must mean nothing to her! She had been too long at Wychford, a break was definitely called for. And on her return she would make sure to remember who she was—Miss Petrie, a paid companion and governess, and definitely not someone for the master of the house to flirt with!
However, when Octavia went downstairs her meeting with Mr Barraclough went better than she had hoped, and she began to relax again. The muffin tea was in progress, and though he was civil, there was nothing in his manner to suggest that he regarded her as anything but his nieces’ governess. She began to think that the episode in the woods could indeed be forgotten.
But after Lisette and Pip had gone early to bed, he asked her to stay behind, and she was in a panic again. When he saw this his face grew grim.
‘I see you are nervous. Miss Petrie, what happened this afternoon was a mistake. I am deeply sorry for it, but I had hoped that we could put it behind us. Whatever you may have thought, I meant you no disrespect, and, if you are to continue to act as my nieces’ governess, it must be forgotten. Anything less would give rise to an impossible situation. What do you say? Can you forgive and forget, or would you prefer not to return to Wychford after you leave tomorrow? Much as I would regret it, I would understand if that were so.’
Octavia’s heart gave a thump. Not to return? No! She must! She must come back. She could not leave…leave Lisette and Pip now! She pulled herself together and said evenly, ‘I’m sure I can put it behind me, Mr Barraclough. We had both been under extreme tension, and I believe that we neither of us behaved typically.’
A slight glint, quickly suppressed, came and went in his eyes. ‘Quite,’ he said.
Octavia didn’t like the glint. She went on coolly, ‘Perhaps this break will make it easier for us both to forget it altogether.’
‘I hope so. Good! But this is not the only matter I must discuss with you.’ He paused, frowned, then went on, ‘You have done better than I hoped with the girls. They appear to be well taught, and they are certainly happier than they would have been with Miss Froom. But this afternoon Pip was in some danger. The fact that you risked your own safety in order to rescue her doesn’t alter that.’
Octavia waited. She was aware that any other employer would have berated her before now. She tried not to flinch as his voice changed and he went on, ‘But tell me, Miss Petrie, what the devil you meant by letting that child risk her life in such an irresponsible manner? Are there no rules, no precautions for her safety?’
Octavia was miserably conscious that she was at fault. She had left Pip to her own devices for too long. It was no excuse that she had never imagined the child would be so disobedient. ‘I…I am sorry—’
‘Why do you allow Pip to climb when and where she pleases?’
‘I don’t! It’s true that I haven’t tried to stop her from climbing—she has so much energy, and she does seem to feel a need to be above the rest of us. It’s a harmless enough habit, and I’m sure she will grow out of it—’
‘Harmless!’
‘But I have made some rules, Mr Barraclough. Certain trees are banned, and that tree is one of them. Any tree that overhangs the lake is forbidden. And so are branches that are as high as the one she got to today. Pip must have…must have forgotten.’
‘Forgotten? Or was it defiance? I gather from Lisette that Pip has been in one of her black moods.’
‘That’s true. But she was ready to obey me when I found her. She would have come down if she hadn’t lost her nerve.’
‘If she hadn’t fallen into the lake first.’
‘Yes,’ said Octavia. ‘Yes, that’s true. I’m sorry! I’ll talk to Pip—’
‘Don’t bother. I had no wish to spoil this evening’s muffin party, but I shall talk to her myself tomorrow and put my own absolute ban on high branches and trees near the lake. She won’t do it again. But in future I’d like you to keep a closer eye on her when she’s out of doors. Your task is to keep the girls safe as well as happy! When Pip is in one of her moods she can be very wilful. It’s then she needs the firm hand.’ He gave her a sharp look. ‘Are you still sure you can control her?’
‘Yes, I can! I’ll be ready for her if it happens again. But please don’t be too hard on her. I still feel that Pip is best governed by love, not threats.’
He looked exasperated. ‘What do you imagine I’m going to do when we have our talk? Beat her into submission?’
‘Of course not! But you can be more intimidating than you think to someone so much smaller.’
‘I doubt very much I could intimidate you, Miss Petrie, tiny as you are.’ He pulled a face and before she could say anything he put up his hand and went on, ‘But, as you were no doubt about to remark, that’s beside the point. I don’t wish to intimidate Pip, merely to make sure she doesn’t kill herself! For your information I love my nieces, both of them, and I shall do what I think necessary to keep them safe, without interference from you or anyone. Is that clear?’
This was the real Edward Barraclough, she thought. A hard man, with any softer feelings soon buried and forgotten! She said coolly, ‘You make it perfectly clear, sir.’
‘Good! In that case we’ll forget it, along with all the rest. Now, when do you plan to leave? I’ll make sure the gig and groom are available for you.’
‘The gig will be enough, sir. I can drive myself.’
‘As you wish. Goodnight, Miss Petrie.’
After she had gone Edward Barraclough sat staring at the papers on his desk, without seeing them. Though he would not for the world have admitted it, he was profoundly glad that Miss Petrie was going away for two days, and would indeed have given her a week if she had asked for it! It would give him time to recover. From what? What was there to recover from? After a moment’s concentration he decided that he had no idea, only that it concerned his feelings towards Miss Petrie! They were, to say the least, inappropriate! Just now he had had to force himself to
voice a perfectly justifiable criticism of the way she looked after his nieces. And when she had looked so stricken, he had had a hard job not to get up and reassure her! It was absurd! Ridiculous! Edward moved restlessly in his chair. What the devil was wrong with him? Why was he feeling so confused?
Perhaps it would be better if the damned governess decided not to return at all. No! He rejected that thought as soon as it occurred to him. No! That would never do—it would be most…most inconvenient. That was the word! If Miss Petrie were not to come back it would be inconvenient.
All the same, he was glad to have two days in which he could get over this curious fascination he felt for her. It was not at all reasonable!
Chapter Seven
But Octavia had to put off her visit to Ashcombe. At the muffin party Pip had been quieter than usual, and the next morning she woke up flushed, and complaining of a multitude of aches and pains.
Edward sent for the local doctor, who diagnosed a fever brought on by exposure. Careful nursing would be needed, and he recommended that his patient should be kept in bed for at least a week. When he offered to find a nurse, Octavia shook her head.
‘I am well used to nursing,’ she said. ‘If you are prepared to trust me, I am perfectly confident I could manage.’
‘There’s no doubt that Pip would prefer someone she knows,’ said Edward doubtfully. ‘I should be easier in my mind if you were here with her. But aren’t you just about to leave us for a while?’
‘That can be postponed. I should prefer to stay until Pip is better.’
‘That’s settled then. But you must tell me if you need help.’
For the first three days Pip was quite ill. A truckle bed was put in the child’s room, and one of the maids slept there at night, ready to call Octavia whenever Pip needed her. During the day either Lisette or Octavia sat with her, and Edward came in quite often, too.
But on the third evening Octavia looked up from her sewing to see that Pip’s eyes were open and fully conscious. She got up and went over, taking the lamp with her.
‘Hello,’ she said putting the lamp down on the table by the bed. ‘Welcome back. Would you like a drink?’
Pip was held up to sip from the beaker kept by the bed, ‘I haven’t been away,’ she said slowly. ‘I’ve had a headache. But I feel better now.’
‘That’s very good news.’
‘Where’s Lisette?’
‘She’s asleep, I think. She’s been looking after you most of the day, and was quite tired. So I sent her to bed.’
‘And Edward? Where’s Edward?’
‘He’s been here a lot, too. I expect he’ll come in later.’
‘Can I get up?’
‘Not yet. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day.’
‘You’re going away. You won’t be here.’
Octavia sat on the bed and took Pip’s hand in hers. The lamp enclosed them in a little circle of light, leaving the rest of the room in darkness. She said softly, ‘I shall stay until you are better, Pip dear. Properly better.’
‘I don’t want you to go away at all,’ said Pip fretfully. ‘Mama and Papa said they would only be away for two days, but they never came back.’
‘I shall come back, Pip. I promise.’
‘But why do you have to go to this Ashcombe place? There’s only some old man there!’
‘It’s not just “some old man”!’ Octavia hesitated, looked at Pip’s flushed little face, and said gently, ‘I wouldn’t go if it was just any old man, Pip. He’s my father and I love him. I have to see him, just to make sure that he’s happy and well. He allowed me to come here to look after…to look after you and Lisette, but he’d be disappointed if I didn’t visit him occasionally. You can understand that, can’t you?’
‘I suppose so…I didn’t know it was your papa.’
‘I haven’t told anyone but you.’
‘Couldn’t he come here instead? I’d like to meet your papa.’
Octavia smiled. ‘He’s very old. He couldn’t travel so far. I shall be back in two days, you’ll see.’
‘I suppose you have a lot of brothers and sisters at home, too.’
‘Not one! I’m the youngest, and they’re all married except one. And he’s away in the Army.’
‘What are they called?’
Pip was getting sleepy again. It wouldn’t do any harm to talk about her family a little. It might send her off. ‘Well, there’s Arthur—he’s the eldest. He has four daughters.’
‘As old as me?’
‘Two of them are older than you. Then after Arthur come my sisters Gussie, Eleanor and Charlotte. They’re all three married with lots of children between them.’
‘Are any of them my age?’
‘All of Gussie’s are older than you. And three of Eleanor and Charlotte’s are. The rest are all younger.’
‘Go on. Who comes next?’
‘There’s Elizabeth next. She was married but her husband died. She’s been living in France, but I think she’s coming back to England soon.’
‘How many children has she got?’
‘None.’
‘Gussie, Eleanor, Charlotte, Elizabeth…Haven’t you any more brothers?’
‘Apart from Arthur? I did have two more, but Stephen, the elder one, was a soldier and died at Waterloo. Now I only have one other brother, beside Arthur.’
‘Four sisters and two brothers. That’s quite a lot,’ said Pip sleepily. ‘Will Edward come soon? I think I’d like to go to sleep.’
Octavia smiled and kissed her. ‘He’ll be here any minute,’ she said.
‘He’s here now,’ said a deep voice out of the dark.
‘Mr Barraclough!’ Octavia was startled.
‘I didn’t like to disturb you,’ he said as he came further into the room. ‘I was interested in your family, you see. Six brothers and sisters! No wonder you know so many games. How do you feel tonight, midget?’
‘I’m better, I think. Miss Petrie says she won’t go away till I’m properly better, though. And she’s promised to come back.’
‘Good!’ Edward Barraclough’s eyes rested on Octavia for a moment. ‘I’m pleased she feels she can.’
Octavia felt her cheeks grow warm, and was thankful for the dim light. ‘If you’ve come to sit with Pip, sir, I shall go to see that Lisette is asleep. She was very tired.’ She leaned over the bed and kissed Pip. ‘Goodnight, dearest Pip. Goodnight, sir.’
They followed much the same routine for the next couple of days, but, with the resilience of the young, Pip was soon full of her old spirit. Edward spent a lot of time with her, and Lisette was never far away. After a week Octavia felt she could safely leave them all for two days, and she set off for Ashcombe.
She need not have worried about her father. Lady Dorney’s husband had suffered from a delicate constitution and Lord Warnham was having a most enjoyable time comparing a wealth of symptoms and their cures with his cousin. He had missed his daughter, of course, but not nearly as much as she had feared.
‘Cousin Marjorie’s collection of recipes for tisanes is bigger than my own,’ he told his daughter. ‘I do believe they have done my health a great deal of good. I hope you can persuade her to stay a little longer, Octavia. We have not yet tried the half of them.’
‘She has agreed to stay for at least two months, Papa. She might even agree to stay longer if you wish. I don’t believe she has any plans for the winter.’
‘Excellent, excellent! We must make sure she stays till the spring. I was very cast down, you know, when I heard about poor Arthur’s misfortune, but Cousin Marjorie was a great comfort.’
‘What is wrong with Arthur, Papa?’
‘His wife has had another daughter, my dear! I warned Arthur, before he married her—the Dawsons always have daughters. But he took no notice. Now the doctors have told him that Sarah cannot have any more children. Arthur has five daughters and no heir!’
Octavia did not particularly like her eldest brother, but this would have be
en a severe blow to his pride. ‘That’s very sad, Papa.’
‘It is indeed! I feel for him.’
‘It’s Sarah I feel for,’ said Octavia. ‘Arthur won’t forgive her for this.’
‘You realise what it means, Octavia? It’s now up to Harry to carry on after Arthur and I have gone! What do you think of that?’
The Honourable Harry Petrie, youngest of the Petrie boys and something of a daredevil, was Octavia’s favourite brother. He was a Lieutenant in the Guards and as yet unmarried.
‘Does it mean that Harry will have to sell out?’
‘Of course! Arthur has already written to him. Arthur always takes such matters in hand, he is very obliging.’ Octavia thought her eldest brother could be better described as officious, but she didn’t say so.
‘What did Arthur tell him?’
‘That Harry must sell his commission and come home, of course. He can’t waste any time in settling down and finding a bride.’
‘Poor Harry!’
‘Stephen shouldn’t have gone into the Army. It’s a very dangerous occupation. Harry wouldn’t have had to sell out if Stephen had lived.’
‘No, Papa. But then Harry would be at risk!’
Her father looked at her doubtfully, then decided to change the subject. ‘You haven’t told me how you are faring at Wychford, my dear. You look very well.’
‘We are going along quite nicely, Papa. I think we are making progress at last, though much still needs to be done. I must go back tomorrow.’
‘So soon?’
‘I’m afraid so, Papa. I hope you don’t mind?’
‘Oh, you must not worry about me, my dear. I have Cousin Marjorie to talk to. We chat, you know, about our younger days. And she has promised to make me another tisane tomorrow.’