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

by Janice Preston

  ‘Try again. Go to London.’

  ‘And repeat the mistake I made after Rebecca died? I abandoned the children immediately after I appointed Miss Thame. I will not do so again. The children will soon forget her.’

  ‘Out of sight is out of mind?’ George stood and brushed his hands down his breeches. Then he sighed and fixed Dolph with a knowing look. ‘Any fool can see it’s not only the children who are devastated by Miss Thame’s departure.’

  Dolph stiffened. ‘I do not know what you mean.’

  ‘I cannot make up my mind whether you lie to me or to yourself. It is time you stopped blaming yourself for Rebecca’s death, my friend. Accidents happen. It was nobody’s fault.’

  It was! It was my fault.

  ‘Will you spend the rest of your life denying yourself happiness? Do you really imagine Rebecca would want you to keep punishing yourself?’

  Dolph shook his head in denial. ‘You are talking nonsense. It is the children who are important... It is they to whom I must make amends, for abandoning them in their hour of need.’

  ‘And yet it is the children who are suffering now. Why continue with this pretence? I swear I do not understand you, Dolph.’ George gripped him by the shoulders. ‘Face up to the truth, man. Even I can see the heart has gone out of you since Miss Thame left. There is no shame in it. If you love her, go after her and tell her before it is too late.’ He released Dolph and stepped back. ‘There. I have said my piece. I can do no more. I shall go and change for dinner.’

  He paused after opening the door and looked back.

  ‘You’re a stubborn fool, Dolph. Do not lose this chance for you and the children—and Miss Thame—to find happiness.’

  He left the room, leaving Dolph staring after him, dumbstruck. George... George...had recognised the depth of his feelings for Leah while he, Dolph, had remained blind. He slumped on the sofa. But George did not know the truth about Rebecca. No one knew but Dolph. If only he could understand why she’d taken her own life, maybe he could change. Wolf, who had lain quietly till now, scrambled to his feet. He laid his head on Dolph’s knee, and Dolph fondled his ears and smoothed his domed head.

  ‘I miss her, Wolf.’ He cradled the dog’s head between his hands and spoke to those trusting brown eyes. ‘Why is life so complicated? I wish Herr Lueger were here. I wish there were someone I could unburden myself to.’ He smiled then, at Wolf. ‘Other than a dog, of course.’

  Loneliness rose up to swamp him, and he could feel tears scald his eyes. The elderly Austrian’s long-ago words sounded in his head.

  ‘You bury your feelings. You shut them away. You believe you have dealt with them, never to bother you again, but I tell you that is not so, my friend. You simply delay the time you must face what happened and the guilt you carry. I was not there. I cannot tell you this is the truth or that is the truth. Only you can know that, and only you can decide to forgive yourself for your part.’

  Wolf pressed forward and licked Dolph’s chin.

  ‘Only I can know, and only I can decide.’ Still those internal arguments raged in his head. ‘How can I risk history repeating itself, Wolf? What if I married Leah and then drove her to suicide? Isn’t it better for the children—and me—to lose her this way than to risk that?’

  He leaned forward to bury his face in Wolf’s thick fur, drawing comfort from him but no nearer a solution. After several minutes, he rose to his feet and made his weary way up the stairs to change his clothes for dinner.

  * * *

  In London, the days passed in a whirlwind of shopping, dressmakers, dancing lessons and promenading or driving in Hyde Park in the late afternoon. Leah and Aurelia were introduced to the members of polite society who were already in Town, and invitations to suppers, card parties and soirées began to arrive.

  Leah’s confidence had grown in the week since she’d arrived—wearing the right gown for the right occasion, and wearing colours and styles that suited her, whether or not those colours and styles were the height of fashion, boosted her self-esteem. Faith had proved herself invaluable, especially with her skill in styling Leah’s hair, pinning it up in a soft chignon and allowing gently waving tendrils of hair—‘Not ringlets, miss. They are not for you!’—to frame and soften her face.

  It was all new and exciting, and Leah worked hard to convince herself she was happy. But she could not quite control the skip of her heart whenever she spied a dark-haired gentleman of a certain height, nor the plunge of her spirits when that same gentleman turned to reveal the face of a stranger.

  She missed Dolph; missed him with a visceral ache that only deepened as the days passed. She had thought...hoped...that pain would lessen. She had thought her memories of him would start to fade—that the novelty of being in London and of meeting so many new people and of participating in so many new experiences would slowly push all thought of Dolph to the back of her mind. She was wrong.

  The constant effort of hiding her erratic changes in mood exhausted her, but she told herself it was worth it to escape sharp eyes of her half-sister, who was the one bright spot in her life. The two had grown closer, encouraging and advising one another on their shopping trips, and giggling together—in private, for Mrs Butterby was always on hand to nip any hint of public unladylike behaviour in the bud—at some of the more outrageous fashions and customs of the beau monde.

  But Leah soon learned her acting skills were not enough to fool Aurelia. She’d known her sister was observant but, as the days passed and Aurelia said nothing, she believed she had succeeded in fooling her as well as Mrs Butterby.

  ‘I told you Prudence would find some arrogant lord to introduce us to,’ grumbled Aurelia one evening as she and Leah entered the drawing room and waited for the tea tray to be delivered. They had just arrived home from the theatre, and Mrs Butterby, pleading fatigue, had gone straight to bed. ‘She watches us like a hawk. There is never any chance to meet any suitors other than those she deems suitable. The theatre was the perfect place to meet a wider variety of men, not just overprivileged aristocrats, half of whose pockets are to let in any case.’

  Aurelia did not hide her contempt for the aristocracy from Leah, but she was single-minded in her pursuit of a wealthy husband—understandable when she had been all but penniless before inheriting her share of Lady Tregowan’s fortune.

  ‘She has our best interests at heart, Aurelia, and she does understand this world better than you or I.’

  ‘Hmmph.’ Aurelia moved to sit next to Leah on the sofa and took Leah’s hand. ‘I am pleased we are alone, for I should like to talk to you without fear she might overhear us.’

  She sounded serious, with no hint of her usual slightly mocking tone. Leah waited, hoping Aurelia would finally trust Leah enough to open up about her past. Mrs Butterby’s suggestion that Aurelia was not a woman who easily shared confidences had proved correct, and Leah had been careful to curb her curiosity, wary of antagonising her secretive sister.

  ‘I know we are still unfamiliar with one another, Leah, but we are sisters, and I want you to know I am here for you, if you wish to talk about whatever it is that haunts you.’

  Leah straightened, instinctively preparing to deny it.

  ‘No!’ Aurelia raised her hand, palm forward. ‘Do not pretend with me. You are unhappy. I see you when you think no one is watching you, so I say it again—if you wish to talk, I am here for you.’ She flashed a smile. ‘I can be discreet, you know.’

  Dolph. Leah longed to pour out her despair. But she could not. It was too raw. Too recent. And Aurelia was too...unknown.

  She changed the clasp of their hands, so she was holding Aurelia’s.

  ‘And I am also here for you, Aurelia, should you wish to confide in me. I have noticed how you change the subject whenever your father is mentioned.’

  ‘Ah.’ The corner of Aurelia’s mouth quirked up. ‘The difference there, my dear
sister, is I have no wish to share. The past is the past. May it remain there.’

  ‘Very well. I thank you for your offer, and I shall bear it in mind should I wish to share.’

  Aurelia laughed. ‘Touché. And yet...’ with her free hand she reached to brush a lock of hair back from Leah’s forehead ‘... I am not haunted by my past. I do not retreat into my past and long for...something...from there to appear in my present.’

  Leah flinched at the gentle understanding on her sister’s face. She looked away. ‘I cannot. Not yet.’ Tears prickled her eyes and her throat constricted. She swallowed hard.

  ‘Then I shall pry no further, my dear. Maybe, in time, we shall both welcome a confidante. Now, in the meantime...’ Leah’s hand was released. She swallowed again, making sure her emotions were under control, as Aurelia continued, ‘...what are we to do about Beatrice? Do you think we should write to her, despite what she said about her brother? I am worried we have heard nothing from her.’

  ‘As am I. But as to what to do... I am not sure.’ They had already discussed Beatrice’s apparent fear of her brother. ‘She was adamant we should not write to her, and I should hate to cause trouble for her.’

  Aurelia sighed. ‘I hate having to just sit here and wait, but maybe it is too soon to panic—it is still over four weeks to Eastertide. Oh! How I wish she would hurry up and join us. I cannot wait until we can openly acknowledge our connection.’ She eyed Leah. ‘You do still agree with me we should openly admit we are half-sisters?’

  ‘Yes. Although not, of course, if Beatrice should object.’

  They had agreed any acknowledgement must wait until Beatrice joined them and had her say, as any adverse reaction to the news would affect all three of them.

  ‘I have a feeling Beatrice will be as eager as us to show the world we are proud to be sisters,’ said Aurelia. ‘Even in the face of Prudence’s predictions of scandal and disaster.’

  Leah laughed. ‘She did not use quite such incendiary words, Aurelia. She fears the truth will put off many genuine gentlemen and leave us with hardened fortune hunters from whom to choose.’

  ‘Well, if a little thing like that is enough to put off a gentleman, I do not think he would make a particularly good husband, do you? And it would mean a lifetime of lies to your spouse. Think of that. What if he discovered the truth after marriage?’

  Janet, the maid, brought in the tea tray then, and Aurelia sprang up to pour them both a cup while Leah pondered her sister’s words. How would Dolph have reacted had Leah told him the truth about her inheritance and her paternity? She absent-mindedly took the cup and saucer handed to her and sipped the hot tea, her head full of Dolph. Would he have changed his mind and withdrawn his proposal?

  ‘There you go again.’

  Leah jumped at Aurelia’s softly spoken comment, feeling her cheeks heat.

  ‘Where do you go inside your head, Leah? It does not make you happy.’

  Leah shook her head, fearing if she spoke, the whole might flood out.

  ‘I know I said I wouldn’t pry, but...is it Lord Dolphinstone? Did you fall in love with him? Do not think I haven’t noticed you dropping his name into the conversation at odd moments—Dolph says this; Dolph did that.’

  Hot embarrassment flooded Leah. Do I do that?

  Aurelia sat next to Leah and put her arm around her. ‘It is all right, Leah. I know you don’t wish to talk about it, but I will say the man is a fool to let such a diamond slip through his fingers, and a fool such as that is not worth a moment more of your regret.’

  Leah felt Aurelia stroking her nape, and she realised she had bowed her head.

  ‘You will tell me one day, when you know I may be trusted,’ Aurelia whispered.

  Leah firmed her jaw, then raised her head, forcing her eyes open.

  ‘Going back to Beatrice,’ she said, ‘do you think we should go to her brother’s house and bring her to London ourselves?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Aurelia nibbled one finger, her brow puckering in thought. Then she directed a mischievous grin at Leah. ‘This may surprise you, but I think we should discuss it with Prudence. If she agrees, we could all go down to Somerset together.’

  Leah laughed. ‘I am astonished you might suggest we talk to Prudence about anything, let alone Beatrice.’

  The confinement of this life continued to chafe Aurelia, and her frustration was all too often targeted at Mrs Butterby.

  Aurelia huffed a laugh. ‘I know our situation is not her fault, but I cannot help being irritated by her determination to see us “marry well”, as if good breeding is the only essential measure of a suitable match. I tell you, Leah, I should far prefer a man who has earned his position and wealth than one who merely inherited them, but who is nonetheless convinced of his own superiority, and who will no doubt secretly despise me for the circumstances of my birth. There was no stipulation in Lady Tregowan’s will as to what position in Society any husband must occupy, but Prudence is determined we marry into its upper ranks. Well, I do not know about you, but I can do without a spouse who will look down upon me throughout our marriage because of my birth.’

  ‘Is that how your father treated your mother? And you?’

  Leah was aware she had been fortunate. Papa and Mama had fallen in love, and their marriage had been happy. Her childhood had been happy.

  Aurelia stiffened, her cheeks colouring. ‘Did I say that?’

  ‘There is no need to be defensive, Aurelia. I do not judge you. How could I?’

  ‘Hmmph. I suppose not.’ Her eyes remained downcast.

  It was Leah’s turn to comfort Aurelia. She put her arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

  ‘We will each tell the other, one day.’ She pressed a kiss to Aurelia’s cheek. ‘On the day we both fully believe the other may be trusted.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Dolph stared helplessly at Steven’s tear-drenched face.

  ‘I must go, Stevie.’ He rounded his desk, dropped to his knees, put his arms around his eldest son and pulled him in for a hug. Wolf, who had been snoring by the fire, lumbered to his feet and padded across to join in. ‘But I won’t leave until the beginning of next week, and I promise I will only be gone a matter of a week or so.’

  He had finally accepted the truth. He loved Leah...had for a while, but he’d blinded himself to his feelings, dismissing them as lust, or friendship, or anything rather than admit the truth. And his reluctance to admit the truth was because he did not believe he deserved to be happy, as George had said. And now he had lost Leah, and he missed her more with every passing day. There was little point in regretting he had not spoken of love when he proposed—he had not been ready to confess his feelings to himself, let alone to her. But he was ready now, and the need to see her again and to be honest with her, to declare his love, was near overwhelming. He’d had to force himself to remain in Somerset—all the time frantic Leah would meet someone new—until the new governess had moved in and the boys settled into their new routine. Fortunately, Miss Pike had proved herself a gem almost immediately but, still, Dolph worried he’d left it too late or that she would refuse him again.

  He took heart from her words: If you should decide you want me for the right reasons, my lord, you know where I will be, but he also faced the hard truth that, should she refuse him again—if he had hopelessly messed everything up by not being honest with her, let alone with himself—then his only option would be to return to Dolphin Court and to learn to live with his own failure. However much he loved Leah, he would not abandon his children again by spending weeks on end in London while he proved his love for her.

  ‘But, Papa...’

  A figure darkened the door of Dolph’s study. ‘Stevie! There you are. I am so sorry, my lord, but he slipped away when I was busy with Nicky.’

  ‘It is quite all right, Miss Pike.’ Dolph stood up, keeping one hand
on Stevie’s shoulder. ‘Stevie and I have a few matters to discuss. I shall return him to the schoolroom when we are done.’

  Miss Pike had only been with them six days, but the boys had taken to her immediately, helped by her one-eyed pet parrot, Horatio, who could say Fiddlesticks and Stow it, fascinating the boys, and who frequently terrorised poor Wolf, with its swooping, airborne attacks.

  ‘Very well, my lord. I shall return to Nicky, or he will be up to some manner of mischief, I’ll be bound.’

  She flashed a smile and hurried away.

  ‘Come, Stevie.’ Dolph led his son to the chair by the hearth, sat down and lifted him onto his lap. ‘Listen. It will not be like last time. You have my word as a gentleman I shall return as soon as I humanly can.’

  Steven sat still for a few minutes, pouting. Then he scrambled from Dolph’s knee and stood to attention in front of him. ‘Is it business, Papa?’

  Love for his small solemn boy flooded Dolph. ‘It is business of sorts, Stevie, yes.’

  ‘In London?’

  Dolph frowned. He had the feeling of walking into a verbal trap set by a seven-year-old. ‘Ye-es.’

  ‘I am your heir, Papa. I need to help with business. I shall come with you.’

  ‘Stevie. That is imposs...’ Dolph paused. It wasn’t impossible. ‘Do you know something, Stevie?’ he said slowly. ‘That is an excellent idea. We will all go to London. The whole family. And we won’t wait until next week. We shall go tomorrow.’

  ‘Hurrah! We’re going to London.’ Stevie capered around the room, Wolf prancing at his heels, his tail waving. ‘Can we go and see Miss Thame, Papa?’

  He should have foreseen it. His heart sank. How would they cope with seeing her again when they were only just getting used to her absence? Stevie halted in front of Dolph and patted his hand.

  ‘Do not worry, Papa. We love Miss Thame, but we know she had to leave us. We won’t get upset again, I promise.’

  Dolph grabbed Stevie and hugged him close, not only to hide the tears in his eyes but also his grin of pure delight. How had he ever worried Steven was too sensitive and needed toughening up?