Falling for the Governess

by Abby Ayles

  Isabella stayed close to her fire in her room that evening. She had changed into her dressing gown allowing her stockings and shift to dry by the heat of the fire. Isabella was worried about Jaqueline since she hadn’t been allowed to see the child before being banished to her room for the night.

  If only Isabella hadn’t pointed out that small rabbit, Mrs. Peterson would have no reason to encourage the Marquess to terminate her service at Wintercrest. She wrung her hands again.

  What was she to do? Though Lord Bellfourd was not entirely fond of Mrs. Peterson, he would certainly take her word that Isabella had been irresponsible in the care of his niece. Lord Bellfourd dearly doted on his niece and would do anything if he thought it was for her health and wellbeing.

  Was she to be thrown out on the streets this very night? Would she at least be given time to secure employment elsewhere? Even if she was, how was she ever to find another station. She doubted that she would get a recommendation. It seemed impossible that she would ever gain another placement in such conditions.

  There was a soft knock at Isabella’s door and she quickly ran to answer it. Unfortunately, it was only Sally with her dinner tray.

  “Thank you, Sally,” Isabella said as she set the tray on the small table by the window, much like the one in her former room.

  “I suppose everyone downstairs knows about…” Isabella said, unable to find the right words.

  She wished it was Betsy who had brought her tray. With Betsy, she could be more open. Even ask her what a person was meant to do in such an instance. She had only gotten the employment via her family lawyer. How was she to seek a new situation without his help?

  “Yes, Miss. I’m sorry to say news travels very fast downstairs,” Sally said with pure sincerity.

  “Do you suppose Mrs. Peterson will really do it? That is, recommend to Lord Bellfourd that I be removed?”

  Sally’s eyes hit the floor and that was answer enough. Perhaps the deed was already done, and Mrs. Peterson was simply satisfying herself with making Isabella wait in the unknown.

  With glistening eyes, Sally excused herself from the room, unable to answer.

  Isabella sat down in her chair, and looked at the meal before her. She could barely touch her boiled potatoes as she listened to the seconds tick by.

  Finally, she came to the realization of what must be done. She would use the small funds she had at her disposal and return to London. There she would do the unthinkable and give herself to the mercy of Mr. Smith.

  She was overwhelmed by a wave of sorrow and fear. Her heart ached to leave what had become her home and quivered at the thought of Mr. Smith.

  She saw no other way around it. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she looked out the window and held on to her locket. Would he be even more cruel to her because she had taken the trinket with her? Perhaps he would even have her thrown in jail.

  A knock at the door woke her again from her fears. She quickly wiped her eyes before opening it.

  Mrs. Peterson stood solemnly before her. Isabella opened the door fully to let the housekeeper in. Mrs. Peterson did not move from her spot, however.

  “Lord Bellfourd will see you in the library,” was all she said before turning and walking down the hall.

  It was such a short, rude statement that Isabella didn’t know what to make of it. She had assumed Mrs. Peterson would enter smugly and tell her to pack her bags. It was apparently up to Lord Bellfourd, himself, to see her properly terminated.

  Isabella quickly slipped into her still-damp shift and cotton stockings. She decided to put on her best ember-velvet evening dress. If she was going to be removed, she would do it in the finest way possible.

  She did her best to fix the sodden black curls that lay flat against her face and rub the swollen tears from her green eyes. Taking a deep breath, she held her head up high, squared her shoulders, and left the room.

  Isabella stood before the library door. She took a steadying breath before knocking.

  “Come in,” Lord Bellfourd called from within.

  Isabella entered the room and shut the door behind her. She found Lord Bellfourd sitting behind the desk that was once in the study next door. The library was fashioned into a temporary study for Lord Bellfourd since his father was still recuperating and unable to leave the office.

  He was looking down at some work on his desk. Isabella couldn’t bear to meet his gaze and instead looked at the hands folded in front of her as she stood before the Marquess.

  She let her eyes travel around the room just once. She was surprised to be alone with the Marquess. She had almost expected to see Mrs. Peterson standing behind him at his right with a big, fat, smug grin across her long face.

  She had spent many times alone with the duke discussing the educational progress of her pupil and never once thought a second about it. Being alone in this candle lit room with the Marquess made her feel a little less like an employee speaking with her employer.

  She was almost positive that despite any teasing he may have made in the past, in that moment, Isabella was no longer a friend but an employee. Not just that, but a servant who hadn’t performed her duties up to standard.

  “Isabella, whatever is the matter?” Lord Bellfourd said, looking upon her fallen countenance.

  He got up from his seat and came around to her side. The culmination of fear and guilt overflowed within her and Isabella started to cry softly.

  He gently led her to a pair of chairs in front of the fire. Kneeling in front of her, he gave her a soft white handkerchief. “Please tell me what has you so upset, so that I may fix it,” he said, looking at her with concern.

  Isabella met his soft blue gaze with her own fearful green eyes. “I am so sorry, Lord Bellfourd. I didn’t mean to cause any harm to Jackie. We simply lost track of time. I understand if you are going to dismiss me, but please let me at least see Jackie one last time, to say goodbye.”

  “Dismiss you? Why on earth would I do such a thing? Jackie has learned so much; she loves you dearly.”

  “Mrs. Peterson informed me that she would be recommending that you terminate my employment.”

  “She may recommend as she likes,” Lord Bellfourd said with a smile, “She is not lord of this manor.” He reached out his hand and touched her chin just briefly. Isabella lifted her gaze to meet his. “Your departure from this house will never be my doing. I promise you that,” he said full of emotion.

  He let his hand fall before smiling softly at her. He stood and walked over to a small cabinet with some glass decanters on top.

  “Here, have some sherry,” he said, handing her a small glass. “It will settle your nerves.”

  Isabella took it gratefully and sipped slowly as Lord Bellfourd took a seat in the adjacent chair.

  "If you don’t mind me asking, Lord Bellfourd, why is it that you asked me here, if it was not to excuse me.”

  "After Mrs. Peterson informed me that you and Jackie had been caught in this terrible weather, I went to Jackie's nursery to check on her. Mrs. Murray told me she had a nice warm bath and had only gotten halfway through her dinner before falling asleep. She was exhausted, but I assure you she is very well,” he added, to calm Isabella’s concerned brow over the child.

  “I asked Mrs. Murray if you were well yourself. Since you had not been back to the nursery after coming out of the rain, she wasn’t entirely sure. I simply asked Mrs. Peterson to bring you to me so that I might inquire for myself on your condition.”

  “I wanted to go to Jackie,” Isabella explained, “but Mrs. Peterson confined me to my room."

  Lord Bellfourd’s rust-colored brows furrowed in frustration and he slammed his cup down on the table next to him.

  “That is preposterous! You are never to be confined anywhere, or kept from Jackie. I will speak to Mrs. Peterson at once.”

  “Please don’t, Lord Bellfourd. I fear she already dislikes me so much. I don’t want to make things worse.”

  “I don’t want you t
o feel uncomfortable here, Isabella, so if you wish me not to speak with her, I won't. I do ask that if there are any more problems, you come straight to me. Promise you will?” he asked with a tone of concern.

  Isabella hesitated. Overstepping the authority of the housekeeper couldn’t be the right thing to do.

  “You are not just the governess here,” he added, reading Isabella’s thoughts. “You are a dear friend to my sister and you have been a great support to me during my father’s illness. The entire family sees you as a true friend and a great blessing. I want you to feel comfortable to come to me with any problems that arise.”

  Isabella struggled to keep her emotions in check. Coming to Wintercrest Manor had been a more significant blessing to her than it ever could be to them.

  “I promise, Christian,” Isabella said softly.

  At hearing his name softly escape Isabella’s lips, Lord Bellfourd’s eyes lit up with pleasure. “Wonderful,” he said showing her his full handsome smile.

  He paused for a moment, then looked at her with his cat eyes, “Would you mind terribly…” he started. He rubbed his chin seeming to think of how to ask his question. “You see, Mother and Abigail have already retired for the night, but I still have a great deal of work ahead of me. If it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience, would you stay here with me for a while and keep me company?”

  Isabella blushed at his question. Her stomach spun with butterflies at the prospect of staying here, as an intimate friend, while he continued his work.

  “Of course, if you are too tired yourself, I understand,” he added, when she didn’t answer right away.

  “No. I mean, yes.” She gave a soft laugh at her silly nervousness. “What I mean to say, Lord…”

  Lord Bellfourd raise a brow at her.

  “I mean, Christian, is I would be happy to keep you company. I have some embroidery in the drawing room I can work on.

  She liked the feeling of speaking his name almost as much as seeing the joy it gave him.

  “I will send someone to fetch it for you, then,” he answered with a satisfied grin playing on his square jaw.

  Isabella sat quietly in the chair by the fire. For the most part, they worked in silence. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire and scratching of Lord Bellfourd's quill. From time to time, Lord Bellfourd would walk over from his desk and place another log on the fire.

  It was a comfortable silence between them as they went about their own work in each other’s company. Occasionally, when Lord Bellfourd went to stoke the fire they would take a moment or two to talk.

  Soon, the hour grew late. Isabella hadn’t realized how tiresome her stressful night had actually been till she settled down next to the warm glow of the fire. Without knowing it, she dozed off to sleep in the library chair late in the evening.

  Lord Bellfourd saw her sleeping state, and not wanting to wake her, took the jacket he was wearing and gently draped it over her resting body. He looked down at her as she lay asleep with the glow of the fire dancing lightly across her soft dark lashes. He had never felt such a gripping pain in all his life as he did in that moment when he saw Isabella’s tear soaked cheeks. He also had never felt as much pleasure as the moment he heard his name slip from Isabella’s lips.

  He went back to his desk to quietly finish his work as he contemplated his feelings toward the young lady sitting next to him. Surely, the last year had been a great hardship for her and she was in a delicate state. She seemed so sincere in her friendship with his family and, more especially, his niece, but he wondered how she honestly felt about him.

  He shook his head with a silent laugh. He couldn’t develop feelings for the governess. Such a thing would simply be too much for his father.

  He didn’t particularly agree with the standards held by the Duke of Wintercrest, nor had they ever exactly been on good terms with each other, but he couldn’t bring himself to think such thoughts that might upset his father and therefore worsen his fragile health.

  Chapter 20

  Isabella woke in the morning with her neck sore and confused as to where she was. She felt a light shaking and realized she wasn't alone. She sat up quickly, confused by the jacket laying over her.

  “Lord Bellfourd,” she stammered looking at the tall figure standing over her. “I’m so sorry, did I fall asleep? Wait, is it morning?” She looked around the room, noticing it was much lighter.

  “Yes,” Lord Bellfourd said with a chuckle. “I’m sorry to say I kept you up far too late last night. You fell asleep and I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

  “So, we stayed here all night?” Isabella asked, dancing between confusion and horror.

  “No. I had a very restful night in my own bed. You, however, did sleep here all night. It is still early though. I thought I should come wake you before the servants found you. I figured there had been enough talk about you last night.”

  “Yes,” Isabella said, standing up.

  She did her best to brush the wrinkles out of her delicate velvet dress and feel that her hair wasn’t too much of a terrible mess.

  “I’m sorry. I must be a dreadful sight,” Isabella said.

  “Not at all,” Lord Bellfourd said with a soft smile.

  It made Isabella blush. She handed back his coat from the previous night without looking up at him again. He had no need for it. He had already changed into a vibrant green morning jacket and a soft blue waistcoat that brought out the color of his eyes.

  “Well, I had best be off, then,” he said taking a step back from Isabella. “I will see you at breakfast, though?” he half stated, half asked.

  “Yes, of course, Lord…I mean, Christian,” she corrected herself, much to his satisfaction.

  Isabella hurried up the stairs of the west wing and into her room. She found a basin of hot water already waiting for her. She prayed that it had been Betsy who deposited it.

  Betsy wouldn’t mention Isabella’s unused bed without asking her about it first. Any of the other maids, however, and she was likely already circulating gossip in the dining hall.

  After changing into a fresh cotton dress in a soft pink with a blue waist ribbon, she did her best to re-do her hair before making her way out of the room again.

  Isabella stopped in to see Jackie who was having her morning meal with Mrs. Murray.

  “Oh, Miss Watts, wasn’t yesterday so exciting!” Jackie said, upon seeing her teacher.

  “Exciting is not the word I would use,” Isabella said in return.

  “May we get our caterpillars today, since we could not get one yesterday?” Jackie asked in her sweet fashion.

  “Are you feeling well enough to venture out again?” Isabella looked her pupil over. She was wearing a navy-blue cotton dress with matching spencer jacket, all decorated with small, blue velvet bows around the trimming. Mrs. Murray had fashioned Jackie’s golden locks into a long loose look with two matching, blue ribbon bows to adorn it.

  She didn’t seem to be feeling ill or looking pale to Isabella, but she wasn’t going to take chances.

  “I am very well, thank you,” Jackie responded politely, like rote memorization.

  “Well, if you promise you are feeling well, and there is absolutely no chance of rain, then I see no reason why we can’t go and collect some specimens,” Isabella said with a light tease.

  After promising to return after breakfast, Isabella made her way down to the morning room. She was, however, stopped short in the hall by Mrs. Peterson.

  She stood there, as if she had been waiting for this moment to come.

  “It is only a matter of time before His Grace is well again,” she stated simply.

  Isabella was fully aware of her meaning. As soon as the Duke of Wintercrest was well enough to move about, the estate duties would fall back to him. All Mrs. Peterson would need was one more reason to dismiss Isabella, and the duke would be much more easily swayed than Lord Bellfourd.

  “I pray every day that His Grace will
recover quickly,” Isabella responded, indifferent to the woman’s threats.

  Isabella held on to the comfort of Lord Bellfourd’s words from the night before. He would never allow her to be removed from the estate. Surely, his word would have more sway with his father than that of the housekeeper.

  Isabella didn’t wait for a response from Mrs. Peterson but, instead, walked past her without a second glance. Her heart was racing, and she struggled not to ball her fists. It was horrid of that woman to harass her so.

  Though Isabella did pray every day for the duke to return to health, she couldn’t help but think of the day that Lord Bellfourd would be solely in charge. On that day, she was sure Mrs. Peterson would find herself without employment. Isabella hoped that she would still be around to see that day come to fruition.

  “Good morning Your Grace, Lady Abigail,” Isabella said, coming into the breakfast room.

  She let the whole encounter with Mrs. Peterson wash away from her memory.

  “Sarah, my lady’s maid, told me this morning that Jaqueline and yourself got caught in the downpour yesterday afternoon,” Lady Wintercrest said in conversation. “I do hope you both didn’t get too wet. It is a terrible time of the year to be exposed to sickness.”

  “We did get caught, quite unexpectedly. I am happy to say that I visited Jackie just this morning and she was in good health and spirits.”

  “Yes, I expect she found it to be a fun adventure,” Lady Abigail added.

  “Indeed, she did," Isabella agreed.

  “Rainstorms can be hard to spot in these parts,” Lady Wintercrest continued. “I, myself, got caught in a few when I first came to Wintercrest. Sometimes a good soaking is beneficial for the skin,” she added with an encouraging smile.

  Lord Bellfourd entered the room and, greeting all present with a good morning, took his place at the table.

  “Christian, I am so glad you are here. I was worried we wouldn’t see you this morning after you had such a late night in the library.”

  For an instant, Lord Bellfourd flashed his crystal eyes in Isabella’s direction, but she didn’t look back. He was satisfied with the little rose coloring that brushed against her cheeks at the mention of the late night.