The Rags-to-Riches Governess--A Cinderella Regency Romance

Home > Other > The Rags-to-Riches Governess--A Cinderella Regency Romance > Page 18
The Rags-to-Riches Governess--A Cinderella Regency Romance Page 18

by Janice Preston


  I don’t want to be the toast of the Season. I want Dolph!

  Would pain slash at her every time he entered her thoughts? Would she ever forget him? She turned to the dressing table. ‘Well, I count myself lucky to have you too, Faith. You have bolstered my confidence no end. Thank you.’

  ‘Ah, bless you, miss. I love my job...’ Faith moved behind Leah and began to unpin and then brush out her hair. Leah closed her eyes, enjoying the luxury of someone else teasing out the tangles. ‘I used to work for Lady Yeovil,’ Faith continued, ‘until she passed away. She was also, as they say, not in the common way, but in her heyday the gentlemen buzzed around her like bees around blossom.’

  The remainder of the afternoon was spent being lectured by Mrs Butterby on all aspects of tonnish life. Aurelia—having, as she said, heard it all before—soon excused herself, claiming she wanted to read her book in peace. Mrs Butterby watched her go.

  ‘Really! She will be the death of me, that girl.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘I know she is your half-sister, Leah, but she is determined not to accept my advice. Headstrong, that is what she is. I fear for her reputation—let alone her virtue—when she is let loose in Society.’

  ‘Do not forget Aurelia has been looking after her own life—and virtue—since her mother died. I am sure she hears what you are saying, even if she appears unwilling to take your advice. I’m certain your fears are unfounded.’

  ‘I hope you are right. I am keen to see all three of you happily settled, that is all. Do not misunderstand me, Leah. I like Aurelia. She has a quick mind and she is a beautiful woman. But she is stubborn; she has a sharp tongue at times; and she is, I find, guarded. Mayhap she will confide more in you, as you are nearer the same age. You might prove a calming influence on her.’

  Leah intended to love Aurelia as her sister, whether or not she proved stubborn, sharp-tongued and secretive. She hoped they would also become friends.

  The conversation then veered onto the coming Season. Later, when they were dining, Leah broached the subject of their unexpected inheritance.

  ‘Will you tell us about Lady Tregowan, Mrs Butterby? Apologies if you have heard all this before, Aurelia, but I long to understand why she left her entire estate to three strangers. And why those particular conditions were included.’

  ‘I have no objection,’ said Aurelia.

  ‘Very well,’ said Mrs Butterby. ‘Now, let me see... I lived with Lady Tregowan—Sarah—for many years. She took me on as her companion after Beatrice’s mother left. Sarah was a semi-invalid following a bout of illness soon after she wed Lord Tregowan, hence her need for a companion. She didn’t know the real reason for Beatrice’s mother’s departure until much later, when His Lordship confessed all to her.’

  Mrs Butterby shook her head, her expression one of contempt. ‘He experienced an epiphany when he himself fell ill. He wanted to clear his conscience before meeting his maker, and so he did just that, with no regard for the pain it would cause Sarah. He did not say it directly, but the implication was it was her fault he had strayed because she was unable to give him children. And nothing I said could shake her of the belief she was responsible for the ruin of your mothers’ lives.’

  Always the woman’s fault! Sympathy for Lady Tregowan and both anger and shame for her father filled Leah. ‘And so she thought to make amends by leaving us money?’

  ‘Yes. Eventually. It was Aurelia’s circumstances that prompted her to act.’

  ‘Not that Her Ladyship ever set eyes on me that I know of,’ Aurelia said. ‘All I knew of her was as a lady who came to our milliner’s shop in Bath once. I was not there, but I remember Mama telling me and hoping she would become a regular client. But she never came back.’

  ‘She rarely went out and therefore had little need for new hats,’ said Mrs Butterby. ‘But that was not when she altered her will. After His Lordship died—eight years ago, now—Sarah discovered the circumstances of all of you and, as none of you appeared wanting, it never occurred to her to intervene. But then she grew sicker. We leased a house in Bath for the winter months in order that she could take the waters regularly and, while there, we learned of Aurelia’s mother’s death, which had left Aurelia in difficult circumstances.’

  Aurelia hunched a shoulder but offered no clarification. Leah hoped to find out more as they became closer.

  ‘You say she altered her will,’ Leah said. ‘But who were the original beneficiaries?’

  ‘The current Lord Tregowan. He inherited the title and the entailed estates when your father died, but Falconfield and this house were unentailed and your father left them to his widow.’

  ‘The current Lord Tregowan?’ Leah frowned. ‘But...she must have experienced a sudden change of heart, for is it not Tregowan we are forbidden to marry?’

  ‘It is.’ Mrs Butterby sighed, laid down her knife and fork, and leaned back in her chair. ‘It all happened very quickly. One thing on top of the other. Do not misunderstand me—what I am about to say does not mean I disapprove of you inheriting Sarah’s estate, but the decision to change her will was made rather hastily.

  ‘After learning Aurelia was in dire straits, she sent a man to find out how both you and Beatrice were faring, Leah. He reported back that the man who had raised Beatrice had died, leaving her nothing, and she now relied on the charity of her brother, and that you, Leah, were earning your living as a governess, and had been dismissed from a previous job after kissing the son of your employers.’

  Leah’s face heated. ‘That was not the whole story,’ she protested.

  ‘It never is,’ said Mrs Butterby, not unkindly. ‘Sarah fretted so, fearing that any one of you—or all of you—would follow in your mothers’ footsteps. She became obsessed with how she could stop that happening.

  ‘Then she learned Lord Tregowan was in financial difficulties, and it was rumoured he had substantial gambling debts. You must understand, Sarah loved Falconfield Hall. She grew up there. She brought it to the marriage as part of her dowry, and she spent almost her entire married life living there. She hated Tregowan, which is in Cornwall, and very remote. It was Tregowan where Sarah fell ill and, rightly or wrongly, she always blamed the place, flatly refusing to live there afterwards.

  ‘It was the only thing they ever argued about. His Lordship wanted to sell Falconfield to raise funds to invest in Tregowan, but Sarah stood firm and he, in the end, gave in to her. She was adept at using her poor health to get her own way, and I do believe he felt guilty that she contracted her illness at Tregowan.

  ‘Sarah convinced herself the current Lord Tregowan would sell Falconfield to pay off his gambling debts and to invest in Tregowan, and she couldn’t bear the idea after she had fought so hard against it. She hoped one of you would fall in love with Falconfield and would make it your marital home.’

  ‘Is that the reason why we must give first refusal to the others should one of us—or our husbands—decide to sell our share?’ asked Leah.

  ‘Yes. She had a new will drawn up straight away. She would not even wait to consult the solicitors who had acted for Lord Tregowan but used a firm in Bath. She signed it and gave it to me to have delivered to Henshaw and Dent in Bristol, but I delayed, fearing she might change her mind again. Two days later, she died, quite unexpectedly even though she had been ill. Her heart, the physician said.’ She paused, to swallow some wine.

  ‘And the other conditions?’ Leah asked. ‘Why were they included?’

  ‘It was her way of ensuring you did not fall from grace, as your mothers did.’

  ‘Fall from grace?’ Aurelia’s eyes narrowed. ‘How dare she? Her husband had a role in every one of those seductions. He knew what he was doing whereas my mother, at least, was young, unworldly and innocent. She was seventeen years old when I was born. Seventeen!’

  Mrs Butterby held up her hands in a gesture of calm
. ‘I am aware of it, my dear. Please believe me. But Sarah... As I said, she was somewhat obsessed. She was housebound. Bedridden for much of the time. She had little else to occupy her thoughts.’

  ‘That explains the stipulation we must marry,’ Leah said, ‘but why the insistence on our spending the Season in London?’

  ‘It was to give you all the best chance of finding a good husband.’

  ‘Good?’ Aurelia’s laugh was bitter. ‘Aristocrats who care for nothing other than their own pleasures; who freely spend money they do not have, and care not how many debts they leave in their wake; aristocrats with their inherent belief in their own superiority over the rest of us. I do not consider men like that to be “good”.’

  Leah gripped her hands together under the cover of the table. Dolph was not like that—superior, and obsessed with money and status. Was he?

  No. He cannot be, or he would not have offered for me, a lowly governess.

  Even though his offer was for the wrong reasons.

  ‘They are not all tarnished with arrogance and greed,’ said Mrs Butterby quietly, ‘just as not all poor people are dirty, lazy and feckless. There are good and bad individuals in every walk of life. Look at Lady Tregowan—would she have even considered your fate if she had been as you described?’

  Aurelia lowered her gaze to her empty plate. Leah wondered even more what Aurelia’s experiences had been. It was clear there was a great deal of anger locked inside her, and she hoped the challenge of getting to know and understand her prickly half-sister would help to distract her from the fact her heart had been torn into pieces.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tomorrow would be one week since Leah left Dolphin Court but, to Dolph, it felt like a year. Miss Strong had stepped in to teach the boys, and her father had turned up trumps when he’d suggested his cousin, Miss Pike, for the role of governess. Dolph had interviewed her, liked her, and she was due to arrive tomorrow to take up her post.

  Today was therefore Miss Strong’s last day in charge of the boys, and Dolph found himself walking with her to the stables after lessons had ended for the day—she to be driven home by a groom and Dolph to ride out with Stevie and Nicky on their new ponies. The boys had raced ahead to the stables and were already lost to sight—their daily ride with Dolph and Frinton had become the highlight of their days, but they still missed Leah and talked about her incessantly, oblivious to their father’s heartache and how every time her name was mentioned another fragment was ripped from his soul.

  ‘Well, Miss Strong—how are the boys coming along with their lessons?’

  Dolph had ceased to visit the schoolroom daily, with the excuse his presence at lessons would make Miss Strong uncomfortable. But the truth was that the schoolroom reminded him too much of Leah at a time he strove with every fibre of his being to forget her.

  ‘They keep asking when Leah is coming home, my lord.’

  His stomach clenched. ‘I have explained to them Miss Thame had to leave and they know Miss Pike is due to arrive tomorrow. They will soon settle down.’

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Miss Strong frown. ‘I hope you are right. I am sure the boys will like Cousin Miriam, but that won’t stop them missing Leah.’

  They reached the stables where the buggy was waiting, and Dolph handed Miss Strong up next to the groom. ‘I thank you for all your help, Miss Strong. I very much appreciate you standing in at such short notice.’

  She studied him for a long moment, the minuscule lift of her eyebrows enough for him to understand she probably agreed with George he had been a fool to let Leah go, let alone aid her by sending her to London in his carriage.

  What else could I have done? I proposed. She refused me. I could hardly force her to the altar!

  ‘Good afternoon, my lord.’

  The groom slapped the reins on the pony’s broad back, and the buggy set off on the short drive back to the village, leaving Dolph to continue his silent argument with himself. He had only proposed for the boys’ sake—his children were his priority now. And although he would have been happy had Leah accepted his offer, he still thought she was better off without him.

  I don’t deserve to be happy, not after what happened to Rebecca.

  ‘Milord?’

  Frinton was in front of him, holding both his own and Dolph’s horses, with Steven and Nicholas already mounted on Falcon and Swift. Dolph shook his head clear of arguments, regrets, and memories of both Rebecca and Leah, and quickly mounted up.

  * * *

  Upon their return, as they walked back to the house from the stables, Nicky ran on ahead, but Stevie stayed back to walk beside Dolph.

  ‘Papa? I should like to ask you a question.’

  ‘Go ahead. I shall do my best to answer it.’

  ‘It is about Miss Thame.’

  Dolph’s heart sank. Was everyone in a conspiracy to ensure he could not forget her? ‘What about her, Stevie?’

  ‘Well... I do not understand.’ Stevie’s forehead wrinkled in thought. ‘Mama died and left us, so I know you cannot bring her home again. But Miss Thame did not die. So why did she leave us? Does she not love us any longer?’

  ‘Of course she still loves you, Stevie, but sometimes life changes and grown-ups must do things they would rather not do.’

  ‘Can’t you bring her home, Papa? She will listen to you. I tried to tell her not to leave, but she still went.’

  ‘You will have a new governess tomorrow, Stevie. And you will soon love Miss Pike just as much as you did Miss Thame.’

  I won’t, though.

  That thought stabbed Dolph, bringing him to an abrupt halt. He could not catch his breath... Where had that come from? He missed Leah, yes. He’d been attracted to her, physically. He’d enjoyed her company. But...love?

  ‘Papa?’

  With an effort, Dolph took in Steven’s upturned face, his expression anxious.

  ‘Why have you stopped? You look funny. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing, son. Nothing is wrong. Come. Cassie is waiting for us.’

  Dolph pointed at the front door, where Cassie—Tilly in her arms—was standing with Nicky. Wolf was there too, his tail waving. For one brief second Dolph’s mind played a trick on him, and it was Leah who stood there, holding Tilly. Then Wolf barked and bounded to meet them, and the vision cleared.

  Love, though. Could it be? Truly?

  Dolph placed his hand on Stevie’s shoulder and urged him on, even as his spirits soared, energised by that revelation. Was it love he felt for Leah? How had he not realised? Then, as quickly as joy and hope erupted through him, it subsided. What difference did it make? She’d gone. He fended Wolf away automatically as the great dog bounced around him and Steven, and as they reached the front door, Dolph concentrated on his children. They were what was important.

  But they love Leah, too. If I can persuade her to come home...

  No! You don’t deserve it. Not after what you did...

  He shook his head to clear it again. Tilly was reaching out to him, her chubby cheeks beaming, and his heart flipped in his chest as he took her in his arms.

  ‘Papa!’ She squirmed and bent over his arm, her own arms straining towards Wolf. ‘Papa. Woof!’

  Dolph crouched down and Tilly giggled as Wolf licked her cheek. Several minutes later, having carried Tilly up to the nursery with Cassie and the children, Dolph—Wolf padding behind him—descended the stairs again. He paused at the foot and gazed around as if seeing the house for the first time. It was still his home, but now it felt as though some of the heart and soul of the place had gone with Leah.

  ‘Dolph! There you are. Why are you standing there like a mooncalf? Come in here. I need to talk to you.’

  Glad of the interruption to his melancholy thoughts, Dolph followed George into the drawing room.

  ‘What is it, George?’ Dolph to
ok up his customary stance by the fireplace as George sat on the sofa. Wolf stretched out before the fire with a contented sigh.

  ‘The new woman arrives tomorrow, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Indeed she does.’

  ‘So you have no excuse not to go to London and persuade Miss Thame to come home.’

  Dolph’s heart lurched. Home? He blanked his expression and stared at his friend. ‘What nonsense is this, George? As you just pointed out, the new governess arrives tomorrow.’

  ‘All the more incentive for you to persuade Miss Thame to return as your wife.’

  ‘My wife?’

  Emotion churned in the pit of Dolph’s belly. George watched him patiently, and it occurred to Dolph his friend had changed over the past weeks. He was more thoughtful. Less erratic. More settled, somehow.

  ‘If you recall, I did propose to her—at your suggestion—and she refused me.’

  ‘You must have made a pig’s ear of it, old fellow, for it was crystal clear she held a tendre for you and you for her. Did you declare your feelings for her?’

  ‘Declare...? No! I was not...am not...in love with her.’ His denial came automatically, but his doubts were already mushrooming. ‘If you are so eager for a wedding, George, why do you not follow your own advice and propose to Miss Strong?’

  George grinned, cocking his head to one side. ‘Attack is the best form of defence,’ he murmured, before adding, ‘Why did you let her go, Dolph?’

  ‘I did not let her go. She went. There is a subtle difference.’

  ‘You could have stopped her.’

  ‘I tried!’ Dolph pushed away from the mantel and took a hasty turn around the room, energy pumping through him as he fought the urge to unburden himself of all the contradictory thoughts that tangled his brain. No matter how George appeared to have altered, Dolph needed to work this out for himself.

 

‹ Prev