Jane Ashford (6 page)

Still frowning, she looked down.

“Have you ever considered, Miss Hartington, what you will do when George and Alice are older? George will be off to school in a few years, and you have told me that you do not feel qualified to take complete charge of Alice’s education.”

“No, I’m not. I shall, ah, find another position.”

“Indeed. And another, and another. Most of them much less pleasant than this one, I wager. Is this the way you wish to spend your life?”

“My wishes don’t signify,” she retorted. “I haven’t any choice!”

“Ah, but you do. Now.”

Aggie looked up at him, perplexed. “You are telling me that I should accept her offer, take advantage of her kindness?”

“It is not taking advantage. In some cases it might be, but in yours, never.”

The girl leaned back a little and stared out over the stream, considering the situation.

“I admit I have a selfish reason for urging you to accept as well,” added Dudley, smiling.

“What?”

“I should very much like to dance with you at an evening party.”

Aggie’s lips curved slightly upward. “You do not even know if I
can
dance. Perhaps I should tread on your feet and give you a miserable half hour.”

“Impossible. I feel somehow that you were born knowing how to dance.”

“How absurd.” For some reason, Aggie felt much better than she had only a few minutes past.

“You will accept, then?”

“I don’t know. It still seems… wrong somehow.”

“You know what you might do to convince yourself that it is not?”

“What?”

“Speak to Alex.”

“Mr. Wellfleet?”

“Yes. He’s a sensible, levelheaded chap. And he knows Anne better than any of us. Why not ask his opinion?”

“I… I hardly know him,” faltered Aggie, a bit daunted at this prospect.

“Oh, well… he is your employer, though. He’s bound to give you aid and advice.”

Aggie laughed. “Indeed?”

“Well… but you know, he’s a good fellow. Always glad to help.”

“Perhaps I could speak to him,” she mused. “I might at least convince him that this whole idea is preposterous.”

“Do,” urged her companion.

She looked at him, then nodded once. “I will.”

“Splendid. You’ll see; he’ll be a great help.” Dudley rose to his feet. “I must go.”

“Oh.” Aggie stood also, a bit surprised at his haste.

“Yes. Just remembered an engagement, actually. I’m sorry to rush off.”

“Not at all. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye.” And John Dudley turned to hurry back to the house, to see whether, as he hoped, his friend Alex Wellfleet was still sitting in his study. If he weren’t, thought Dudley, he would dashed well find him wherever he was.

Aggie thought over what John Dudley had advised for the best part of a day. There was no opportunity, in any case, to speak to Mr. Wellfleet that evening, and the following morning she was occupied with the children, as usual. But later, when George and Alice went to sleep after luncheon, she resolved to carry through with the idea and went downstairs to look for her employer.

She knocked on the closed door of his study rather timidly. And when a deep voice bade her enter, she took a breath before turning the knob and stepping into the room. Mr. Wellfleet sat behind the desk, some papers spread before him, but he nodded pleasantly when Aggie appeared. Indeed, John Dudley had prepared him to receive the girl, so he was not at all surprised at her visit.

But Aggie knew nothing of this. “You are busy,” she stammered. “I can come back another time.”

“Not at all, Miss Hartington. How may I assist you? Please. Sit down.”

Aggie nervously took the armchair before the desk, folded her hands, and looked at the floor. It was more difficult than she had expected to begin.

Mr. Wellfleet watched her with curiosity and more interest than he had felt heretofore. His conversation with his friend Dudley had been eye-opening, and he had felt that there must be more to Miss Hartington than he had suspected. Until then, she had seemed to him excessively quiet and perhaps even a bit dull, though certainly very lovely. He frankly preferred a livelier woman, as his choice of Anne demonstrated. Now he wondered if he should revise this opinion. John Dudley had been very persuasive. “Can I be of assistance?” he repeated finally. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. It is just that… that I have been concerned about something, and I thought perhaps you could advise me. Or, that is, I know that I haven’t any… I mean…” Aggie stumbled awkwardly to a halt.

“I should be delighted to advise you as best I can. What is worrying you?”

“It is not worry exactly. But, well, perhaps Mrs. Wellfleet has mentioned to you that she wishes to hold an evening party for me?” Aggie looked at him anxiously.

Wellfleet nodded.

“Yes. Well, I feel that it would be wrong for me to accept such a great kindness. I came here to be nursery governess, Mr. Wellfleet, and I mean to fulfill my bargain. Mrs. Wellfleet has been wonderful to me, but I feel this is too much. It is quite unsuitable, do you not think so?”

He looked at her. The girl seemed to feel this intensely, and he began to understand something of what Dudley admired in her. “Unsuitable? I don’t know that I would call it that.”

“I meant no criticism of Mrs. Wellfleet,” added Aggie hurriedly, suddenly horrified that he might construe her question in that way. “I simply feel that it would be wrong in
me
to accept.”

“Your only objection to the scheme, then, is that? You would not shrink from a party on any other grounds?”

“Why, no.”

“Well, then, I will tell you what I think, Miss Hartington. I think you should give in and allow it. We know something of your history here, naturally, and it makes your case unique, I believe, in the annals of nursery governesses. My wife is right in thinking you belong in a different sphere. I think you should take this opportunity to enter it.” He smiled at her. “Of course, I must plead some self-interest in this matter. Anne has set her heart on this party, and I am not accustomed to denying her wishes.”

Aggie looked anxious.

“Of course, I would do so if I thought her idea wrong or improper, but I confess I do not.”

The girl took a breath. “Everyone seems to feel that way, except me.”

His smile broadened. “Don’t you think, then, that you should reconsider your position?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps.”

“After all, Miss Hartington, this is not such a great matter, is it? What real harm can one small party do anyone?”

Aggie raised large blue eyes to his. “I am afraid it might do harm to me, sir. I fear I might enjoy it far too much.”

Mr. Wellfleet’s opinion of her went up another notch. The girl was not stupid. She saw the same danger in her situation that he did. It was all very well for Anne to talk of marrying her off, and probably right, too. But the risk the girl foresaw of that not happening might have been very real. However, a conversation he had had the day before had changed his opinion on this subject. “I won’t pretend not to understand what you mean,” he replied. “But I do not think you need to be concerned.”

Aggie looked at him. He seemed so sure, but how could he
know
? She rose. “I will think about what you say. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Of course.” Mr. Wellfleet had a sudden impulse to tell her what he had learned yesterday from John Dudley, but as quickly as it came, he denied it. He could not violate his friend’s confidence.

Aggie turned and went out; she still felt uncertain, but as she walked back upstairs, her step was lighter, and a small smile played about her lips.

It required three days’ struggle with herself, but at last, Aggie gave in. Her longing to taste the gaieties of society, reinforced by the urgings of everyone around her, finally overcame her doubts, and the next time Mrs. Wellfleet broached the subject, she agreed. This threw Anne into transports and loosed a perfect deluge of party plans on Aggie’s head. The invitations were sent that very day, and Aggie was forcibly pulled into consultation about the dress she would wear. When she objected that she must get back to the children, Anne scoffed. “Pooh. They are perfectly fine with Mrs. Dunkin. And she loves having them to herself again. Come look at this pattern, Aggie. It is the most cunning thing; there are tiny tucks all down the front.” She held out the latest number of the
Fashion
Gazette
, and the other girl took it absently. “I cannot decide,” continued Anne, “whether you should wear white or primrose. Pink is clearly wrong, with your lovely hair. What do you think?”

“I have always wanted a pale blue gown,” responded Aggie involuntarily.

Mrs. Wellfleet was transfixed. “Pale blue,” she repeated in the voice of one who has had a revelation. “Of course!” She clapped her hands together. “The perfect thing! How clever you are, Aggie. We shall find the cloth this very afternoon. My dressmaker can make it up in whatever pattern you like.”

Aggie nodded. “And I have some money from my aunt’s will. I insist upon paying for the dress.”

Anne’s lower lip jutted out. “But I wanted to get it for you.” Her pretty face creased in a pout.

“You have been far too kind to me already.” Aggie met her eyes resolutely.

Mrs. Wellfleet held her gaze for a moment, then shrugged. “Oh, very well, but I think you are a deal too nice.” She reached for the fashion periodical once again. “Did you see a pattern you like?”

***

The following days flew by in a whirl of activity. They found a lovely pale blue gauze and the dressmaker was set to work on it. Anne persisted in consulting Aggie on every detail of the party, and gradually Aggie felt herself being caught up in the excitement of it. Despite her situation, it was wonderful to be looking forward to her first real party—her come-out, as it were. She found it harder and harder to concentrate on the children’s lessons in the mornings, a fact which they did not appear to mind in the least.

Three days before the event, Aggie suspended them entirely, confining her time with George and Alice to walks and games. That morning, they went again to their favorite spot, beside the stream, and she lapsed into a pleasant reverie as they played on the bank. As before, John Dudley found them there. This time he rode up from the opposite side of the water, jumping his horse over it and dismounting to join Aggie on the sun-warmed rock.

“How are you?” he said then.

“Very well, thank you. And you?”

“In prime twig. Looking forward to Anne’s party, as I hope you are as well.”

Aggie dimpled. “I admit I am.”

“No more doubts?”

“Oh, I have thrown prudence to the winds and am bent on dissipation.”

He laughed. “Splendid. And I particularly want to claim the honor of the first dance. You cannot deny that to such a staunch advocate of the thing.”

Aggie smiled again. “No, indeed.”

“Splendid,” he said again. “Now I know I shall have a fine time.”

George called to them to show them a snail he had found on the verge of the stream. When they had admired it sufficiently, he turned away again, and Dudley said, “And so, have you been very busy preparing?”

Aggie nodded. “Anne is half distracted. But we always talk of me and what I am doing, Mr. Dudley. I suddenly realize how rude I have been; I seem to be always pouring out my troubles to you, yet I have asked you almost nothing about yourself. Tell me.”

He looked a bit nonplussed. “Tell you what?”

“About yourself. Your interests.”

“There’s very little to say on that head, I’m afraid. I’m not a very interesting chap.”

“I don’t believe it. Very well, I will begin then. You like to ride, I think?”

He shrugged. “Well enough. What makes you say so?”

Aggie looked at him from under lowered lashes. “You ride this way so often. I thought it must be one of your favorite pastimes.”

Dudley started and looked down at her. Catching a twinkle in her eye, he smiled. “The ride is not the primary attraction,” he replied.

Aggie lowered her eyes. “What do you like, then? I should really like to know.”

He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, “Well, I fear my interests are prosaic. My estate is nearby, you know, and it occupies most of my time. Since my father died, I have managed it, and I frankly enjoy that a great deal.” He smiled ruefully at her. “Very dull, you see.”

“Not at all. I think it would be very interesting to care for land. You are alone there now?”

“Yes, as you know, my mother died some years ago. And my sisters are both married and living in other parts of the country.”

“It’s strange; I hardly remember them. Yet we must have met.”

“Well, both of them are a good deal older than I. I never saw much of them myself, so it’s not surprising that you didn’t. Eliza was making her come-out when you left.”

Aggie nodded. “What do you do on your land? Is there a farm?”

“Yes. There is quite a large home farm, besides the leased land. Actually, I have recently become quite interested in some experiments we are doing. We are ditching some of the fields and will be trying a special new seed this year. They say that it yields twice as much as the old type.”

“How is that possible?”

Dudley’s eyes lit. “That is the amazing thing. They are working with the different varieties of seed, you see, crossing one type with another, and they are producing some revolutionary new sorts.” He gestured expansively. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see crop yields increasing by several times in the next few years. And you see what that means, of course. More food, more livestock, and generally a better living standard for everyone.”

Aggie watched his excitement with a slight smile, interest and admiration in her eyes.

“It will take time, of course, especially to convince landholders to change their methods. So many of them resist any new thing. Why, even the small farmers don’t want to change, even when you tell them they can grow more with less work. On my own land…” He stopped abruptly and flushed. “But you don’t care for this. I am being what my sisters call a prosy bore. Forgive me.”

“But you are not. I think it is fascinating. If we had more food, perhaps we should have fewer hungry people. My sisters and I visited London once, with my aunt, and I was frightened by the people in the streets.”

“Exactly so,” agreed Dudley eagerly. “There is great need, and it seems to me that improving our production might be more useful even than political change.”

Aggie gazed at him. “Indeed. How wonderful to have thought of all this.”

He flushed again. “Well, I didn’t really think of it myself, you know. There are several men around the country working and writing about such things.”

“But you have found them out and understood, applied their methods practically. That is admirable.”

“Are you roasting me, Miss Hartington? I know my particular hobbyhorse seems ridiculous when one goes on and on about it.”

“Not at all! I am perfectly sincere.”

He looked into her eyes. “I believe you are. I hope I may show you my estate one day. Mainly the house, of course, but—”

“I should like to see it
all
,” asserted Aggie.

The two young people gazed into one another’s eyes, in perfect harmony, until George, with a yell he later explained was meant to imitate a wild Indian, managed to drench his little sister by hurling a large stone into the stream. They were forced to hurry Alice home to dry clothes and a fire, and there was no further opportunity for conversation. John Dudley did manage to say, as he was going, “Don’t forget, you have promised me the first dance.”

And Aggie replied, “I shan’t,” as she urged Alice up the stairs. But no other remark was possible in the bustle.

However, as he mounted his horse in front of the house, John Dudley did not look particularly put out. His mind, which had been pretty well made up before, was now completely so. He would speak at the party, in that romantic setting, near the end perhaps, perhaps in the garden.

Aggie, having delivered Alice to the nursery maid amid much tutting and clucking, went over to the front hallway window on her way to her bedchamber. She could just see Dudley, riding along the lane to the road. She gazed at his blue-coated back with a pensive smile and remained at the window until he was well out of sight.