His Unusual Governess (2 page)

‘Thank you so much, Hester,’ she said and leaned forwards to touch her hand. ‘You won’t regret it. I shan’t do anything that could harm your good name, I promise you.’

‘Lord, miss, as if you would.’ Hester laughed, looking younger as her eyes lit with excitement. ‘I can’t thank you enough for giving me this chance—and I hope you’ll get on with your charges. Lady Mary arranged it for me. She said they’re a little bit difficult, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.’

‘Yes, I’m certain I shall,’ Sarah agreed and laughed. ‘How hard can it be to look after a young lady and a boy of thirteen?’

‘W
hy do we have to have a mentor as well as a governess? I thought you said it would be all right when we got rid of the last two? You said Grandfather would give up sending us tutors and take us to live with him in London.’

‘I said he would take me. It’s time I had my come out,’ Francesca Scunthorpe said and made a face at her brother. She was a pretty girl with soft hair and bright eyes, and a mouth that was wide and sensuous. Her yellow-silk gown was attractive, but not as fashionable as she would like, and made for her by a local seamstress. ‘You will be going to Cambridge after Christmas. It looks as if I’ll be stuck here on my own with some stupid governess.’

‘I don’t mind going to college,’ John said
and threw a paper dart at her across the schoolroom. He was a sturdy boy, attractive with dark hair and eyes and a stubborn chin. His tutor had given him a list of Latin verbs to learn to keep him busy until the new mentor arrived, but John was bored with lists. His tutor had given him new lists every day for the past eighteen months, but he hadn’t explained anything. His lessons consisted of setting a new exercise and then tests to see what he’d learned. ‘It would be better than staying here on our own.’

‘It was all right at first,’ Francesca said. ‘When we were younger we had Miss Graham and Mr Browne. I liked her and she taught me lots of interesting things, but she left and the last governess was useless. She couldn’t play the pianoforte or the harp and she chose all the wrong books.’

‘And she didn’t like frogs in her bed,’ John said, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. ‘I’ve never heard anyone scream as much as she did when she saw that grass snake.’

‘She thought it was poisonous.’ Francesca looked scornful. ‘She didn’t know it was a grass snake and harmless.’

‘Anyone knows the difference between a viper and a grass snake,’ John said and looked up at his sister. ‘What are we going to do, Fran? I’m so bored—aren’t you?’

‘Yes, some of the time,’ Fran agreed. ‘I like to read poetry, but I know you’d rather play games or go fishing.’

‘Can we go fishing today? He will probably stop us having fun when he gets here—and your governess will say it isn’t a fit occupation for a lady.’

‘We’ll outwit them somehow,’ Fran promised. She picked up a volume of poetry she’d been reading earlier, then threw it down with a sigh of discontent. ‘They are both supposed to arrive later today, though not together. We’ll go fishing this morning and come back when we feel like it.’

‘Grandfather’s letter said we had to be on our best behaviour—to be waiting in the parlour when they arrive.’

‘Well, he should have come down himself and stayed for a few days.’

‘He said it was getting a bit much for him. Do you think he’s ill?’

‘I don’t know.’ Fran’s brow creased because she worried about her grandfather. The marquess was all they had—the only one who bothered about them anyway. Her father had gone off abroad somewhere when his money ran out. His house and estate had been put up for sale and the marquess had brought them here. At first he’d spent time with them, but of late
he hadn’t bothered to come down other than at Christmas, though he always sent birthday gifts. ‘I hope he isn’t, because I don’t know what would happen to us if he died. We haven’t any money of our own, John. Everything comes from Grandfather. If I get my Season, I’ll marry a rich lord and then we’ll have money. I’ll look after you then. You won’t have to work for a living.’

‘Do you think Grandfather will leave us anything?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t want to think about that …’ Fran’s throat caught at the idea that they might be forced to leave this house. She’d loved it from the moment they came here and didn’t want to live in a horrible little cottage like some of the children on the estate. ‘Come on, I refuse to be miserable on a lovely morning like this. Let’s get some stuff from the kitchen and go down to the stream.’

‘Yes.’ John grinned at her. ‘At least we’ve got each other. I’ll put frogs in her bed and you can think of something to do to this lord whatever-his-name-is …’

‘Lord Rupert Myers,’ Fran said. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll think of some way to get rid of them if we hate them. Let’s go fishing. It will serve them right if there’s no one to greet them when they get here.’

Sarah got down from the chaise and looked at the house. Cavendish Park was a pleasant country house, much the biggest one she’d ever visited, larger and more impressive than her father’s on the outskirts of Newcastle. She’d visited a few country houses as the guest of her school friends, but never one quite like this. It was so beautiful that for a moment all she wanted to do was to stand and stare at the mellow golden walls and long windows that sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine.

‘If you’d like to come into the house, Miss Goodrum.’

Sarah came to herself with a start. The housekeeper must have been speaking to her for a few minutes, but she’d been lost in thought—and it was difficult remembering that she was no longer the wealthy heiress, Miss Hardcastle. She’d packed that particular persona into her trunks and sent them back to her home with a letter for her uncle explaining that she was taking a little holiday and they were not to worry. All she had with her was a small trunk containing the clothes she’d purchased from Hester.

She was wearing Hester’s best gown, because she’d been assured it would be expected for her first arrival. It was pearl-grey with a slender skirt and tight bodice, and it had a white
lace collar. Sarah had fastened a small silver brooch at the neck to cheer it up a little. Hester’s other gowns were not as good and certainly not what Sarah was accustomed to, but she would get used to them—and it was only for a few weeks or so.

‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Brancaster. I was just thinking what a lovely house it is. You must enjoy living here?’

‘It’s a nice enough house, Miss Goodrum, but …’ The housekeeper hesitated and then pursed her thin mouth. ‘Things are not quite what they ought to be. His lordship doesn’t come down often enough and the children are left to do much as they please. The house needs a master or a mistress, if you ask me—prefer-ably both.’

‘Yes, I expect it does. A big place like this takes some running and it shouldn’t be left to the servants.’

Unaware of the odd glance her remark had brought from Mrs Brancaster, Sarah walked into the house by way of the kitchen entrance. Since she made a habit of visiting her kitchens regularly at home this did not make her uncomfortable. She might be wealthy and she’d been educated as a lady, but Sarah knew she was a long way from being one. You could take the girl out of Newcastle, but you couldn’t take
Newcastle out of the girl; it had been one of her father’s favourite sayings and made her smile. She’d been so close to her father, his right-hand man, and she missed him so very much.

She supposed she was looking for someone she could admire and respect as she had Tobias Hardcastle. If such a man were to present himself, she would not hesitate to hand over her person and the day-to-day running of her business to him—but as yet she’d never met anyone who came close to filling his shoes.

‘I’ll take you straight up to your room,’ the housekeeper was saying. ‘You can settle in and then come down to the kitchen for a nice cup of tea. Miss Francesca and Master John were supposed to be here to meet you, but they slipped off early this morning. I suspect they went fishing in defiance of the marquess’s instructions that they should sit in the parlour and wait for you and their mentor.’

‘Their mentor? I thought the Marquess of Merrivale was their grandfather and guardian?’

‘So he is, Miss Goodrum. Mr John is to have a tutor and he is to be their mentor. As I understand it, he’s to be in charge here and we shall all report to him.’

It was the first Sarah had heard of this arrangement and she wondered if Hester had known. This new man might enquire more
closely into her background than she’d imagined and she was glad she’d asked for the reference as well as Hester’s clothes.

‘I see. Do you know this … mentor’s name?’

‘I wasn’t listening properly when Mr Burrows told me,’ the housekeeper admitted. ‘I’d just discovered that the pair of scamps had disappeared again and my mind wasn’t on it, but I’ll find out when he arrives and let you know.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Brancaster.’ Sarah was thoughtful. ‘Do you think I could leave the tea for an hour or so? I should like to take a walk about the grounds before I unpack—get my bearings.’

‘Well …’ Mrs Brancaster looked a bit put out. ‘I’m sure it’s up to you, miss. I thought you might want to see the schoolroom?’

‘When I return you can give me directions or I’ll ask one of the footmen. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, because I know you have so much to do in a house like this—and with two new visitors it must have turned your routine upside down.’

‘It has …’ Mrs Brancaster nodded. ‘Well, off you go then. Your trunk will be taken up and you can find your own way here when you’re ready, I dare say.’

‘Oh, I’m sure I shall. I’m really quite capable, you know.’

Sarah left the housekeeper staring after her. She knew that she had perhaps risked offending her new colleague, but she’d felt as if she must escape before she did something stupid. All at once the enormity of what she’d done—and what she was attempting to do—had hit her square in the face. In her comfortable chaise with all her familiar things about her it had seemed a clever idea. She’d imagined the children were left much to themselves with just their grandfather’s servants—but who was this new mentor and what would he be like?

If he was just another superior servant, she might manage to get away with her masquerade by keeping her own counsel. If, however, he’d been placed in charge of the children’s future by the marquess, he might want to know too much about her. Sarah couldn’t afford for him to dig too deeply into her background. Should he discover she was lying, he might imagine her to be a person of low integrity and dubious virtue.

Her stomach was fluttering with nerves as she strolled through the kitchen garden, noticing how well everything was kept. If she’d expected to find an air of neglect here, she was far off the mark. What if this mentor had met Hester Goodrum in the past?

Oh, this whole thing was madness! She should go back to the house, ask for directions
to the nearest post house and leave. What on earth had made her think she was capable of carrying out a masquerade like this? She hadn’t been thinking clearly, of course. Sarah wanted time out of her life, time to come to terms with what she needed from the future: should she marry for the sake of companionship or should she wait until she fell in love?

A smile touched her mouth. There was no guarantee that the man she chose would reciprocate her feelings. Sarah knew that she wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world and if she found someone she wanted, he would probably not be interested in her.

She must not rush her decision. Looking about her as she walked, Sarah fell in love with the beautiful rose gardens, the herbaceous borders and the sweeping lawns. Some of these trees must have been here for centuries. Hearing the sound of laughter coming from what appeared to be a small wilderness, she turned instinctively towards it and then stopped as she saw a young woman of perhaps sixteen years and a boy some years younger. They were sprawled out on the grass, watching as a fish cooked slowly over a smoking fire.

The camaraderie between them and the sound of their laughter caught at Sarah’s throat, making her aware of how much she missed in
not having a family. They were so beautiful, so wrapped up in themselves and their amusement that she hesitated, not wanting to intrude. If she introduced herself now they might resent her intrusion into their private time and she would start off on the wrong foot. No, it would be better to wait and meet them later when they had washed the dirt from their hands and faces. Yet how she longed to be a part of that scene.

Turning away, Sarah felt the ache inside her. She had been thinking it best if she made some excuse and went away, leaving the new mentor to arrange a new governess for his charges, but now she’d changed her mind again. Something inside her called out to the young people she’d discovered having fun and she wanted to stay. She had no wish to harm them and she would keep her distance from their mentor, be friendly but reserved, as a proper governess should be.

Lifting her head, she took her courage in her hands. Her father’s lawyers had advised her to sell her father’s mills to the highest bidder and not to think of trying to run them herself. She hadn’t listened to their prophecies of doom and gloom, and, though she’d come up against prejudice and men who resented a woman in their midst, she’d overcome their opposition and her business was thriving. She wouldn’t turn and run at the first obstacle now.

It was time to have that cup of tea with Mrs Brancaster. Sarah wouldn’t lie more than she had to, to sustain her masquerade as a governess, but she wasn’t going to walk away from those delightful children, either.

Rupert was getting down from his curricle when he saw the woman walking back from the gardens. The sun was shining on her head, picking out the red tints in her dark hair and giving her a kind of halo. From her dress he guessed her to be the new governess and surmised that she’d been for a little walk to acquaint herself with her surroundings. He knew very little about her, except that she had been recommended by Lady Mary Winters.

Well acquainted with Cavendish Park from visits to his uncle as a young man, Rupert had no desire to follow her example. He’d known his uncle’s grandchildren when they were all younger, but it was years since he’d seen them. He wondered whether they were waiting dutifully in the parlour, as they’d been bidden, or, as he would have done in their place, escaped for a last day of freedom.

‘Your lordship,’ Burrows said, his face wreathed in smiles as he came out to greet him. ‘It is a pleasure to see you, sir. I’ve been informed that you intend to stay with us for a few months.’

‘Yes, until John goes to Cambridge,’ Rupert replied. ‘It’s Burrows, isn’t it?’