The Governess (Ladies of Miss Bell's Finishing School Book 1) Read online

  These were her charges?

  “You must be Miss Elliot. Welcome to Harlton Park. I hereby give notice.” An older woman, whom Adelaide assumed to be the nursemaid, stamped away, muttering under her breath.

  Robert closed his book with contentment, then expelled a deep sigh—one that was filled with a host of emotions he had yet to express even to himself. He was a confirmed bachelor, and had no intention, nor inclination, towards the paternal. No, having children was something he did not think about and tended to avoid at all costs.

  Now, in nature’s way of irony, he had acquired two wards. It was not that he regretted taking care of his friend’s children, for he had nothing but fond and honourable thoughts for his fellow officer in arms. Colonel Appleton would have done the same for him. It was more that he questioned why he, of all people, had been chosen for the task. No doubt Appleton had hoped the unthinkable would not happen to him. Robert paused. It should have been he who had fallen…he with no children, no ties, no fatherly instinct…

  So he did what any good guardian would do—he installed them at his country estate and hired a governess for them. It was not that Robert was without feeling, but he truly believed the children were better off with guidance from a governess rather than the inept direction of one who knew nothing of children. Having satisfied his sense of duty, he arrested further thoughts of his wards, knowing that should a need arise, the governess, steward or solicitor would know where to find him.

  He happily returned his thoughts to his bachelor ways of doing exactly what he wanted when it suited him, much in the footsteps of his scandalous ancestor, Beau Fielding. Well aware he was quite fortunate, he had watched many of his friends fall into the trap of matrimony and become as puppets led around by a string. He shuddered while mentally patting himself on the back for having continued to elude the matchmaking mamas of the ton. Even though untitled, he was from one of the oldest, and wealthiest families in Society. The Fieldings had a knack for investing and had been able to maintain their estates in comfort for generations. Robert was not uncharitable; he was quite happy to share his wealth with any number of worthy causes. He even chose a female for his wards rather than a tutor, allowing them some maternal affection before they were sent away to Harrow. Afterwards, when they could speak intelligently, he fully intended to take them in hand and teach them the ways of Society.

  Draining the last drop of brandy from his glass, he set it down on the table, and stood to check his neckcloth in the looking-glass. A full evening lay ahead after his fencing match with his army friends, he was to dine at his club and then meet Mrs. Vanover, a merry widow, for the theatre.

  Satisfied with his plans, he went to the entrance hall to fetch his hat and gloves, whereupon his butler, Percy, handed him a letter. He raised his eyebrows at the outstretched hand containing the offensive object, which his instinct told him he should leave until the morrow.

  “It is from Harlton Park, sir.”

  “Place it on my desk and I will attend to it in the morning.” Robert used the term morning loosely for he rarely greeted the day before noon.

  “It came by post, sir.”

  Robert stared at the letter a few moments longer before reluctantly holding out his hand. He returned to the library with a heavy sigh, knowing there was nothing on these pages he wanted to see.

  R. Fielding Esq.,

  Sir,

  I beg leave to inform you, in case you have not already been notified, the boys’ nurse quit her position upon my arrival. It would seem the boys are in need of more care than a governess can provide. Please consider visiting to advise and assume a closer hand in their upbringing.

  I beg to remain, Sir,

  Your obedient servant,

  Miss A. Elliot

  Deeply annoyed, he thrust back his coat-tails and sat on the edge of his chair at his great mahogany desk. He whipped a piece of paper out of a drawer and dipped his quill in the standish.

  Miss A. Elliot,

  Madam,

  If you are incapable of managing two young boys, I will ask my solicitor to find a replacement.

  Your obedient servant,

  —Fielding

  He sanded then folded the letter and sealed it. Who precisely did this woman think she was? Mr. Winton, his secretary, had assured him she came with impeccable references from a select school for ladies. Perhaps they should have chosen someone more seasoned, but Nurse had asked for someone younger—more energetic had been her precise words—to be able to keep up with two lively boys.

  Perhaps they would be better suited to school, where they could be with other children their age and learn discipline. He would have Winton look into it.

  Not wanting this to spoil his evening, he poured himself another brandy to calm his irritation. Taking a sip, he thumped his fist down on his desk with deliberate calmness. Who was this upstart of a governess to tell him how to manage his charges? And why the devil had he, of all people, been left two children to bring up?

  He ran his hand through his hair, which he knew very well only dishevelled it in a way that added to his allure. Dealing with women could be a nuisance, but it could also be wonderful when they knew their place. He smiled to himself and tipped back the remains of his glass. He set it down and inhaled deeply before sallying forth yet again to begin his evening. He would not think of the children again that night—nor their despot of a governess. If she complained again he would dismiss her and that was his last thought of her for the night.

  Chapter 2

  Adelaide balled up the curt note from her employer and growled in frustration. What a pompous...her thoughts trailed off before she said something unladylike. He clearly had no care for these children, as he had not even bothered to come to greet them, according to Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper. No wonder they were misbehaving; they had no one who cared for them. They needed a parental figure and Adelaide could only do so much. These boys were a handful—to say the least—and she needed some help. She could not let them out of her sight or they would be off on a spree, as her brother would have phrased it. They were fairly well behaved when she was giving them her full attention, but Heaven forbid she go to the necessary, or she would find them escaped.

  Besides their escapade into the moor and the quicksand, they had plucked feathers from Mrs. Coddle’s rooster, they had rolled in the mud with Mr. Jones’s pigs and they had taken one of the master’s stallions out for a ride. It was a wonder they had not broken one of their necks yet. All of this they had achieved in less than three weeks’ time.

  “Where could they be this time?” she wondered aloud as she searched the grounds. She was aware of their start, so they could not have gone too far. Next time she needed to relieve herself, she would tie them to a post! Telling herself she must think like a little boy, she headed away from the house.

  “Here birdie, birdie!” She finally heard a voice call followed by a loud plop.

  Oh, dear. It sounded like they were in the trees. Picking up her faded grey skirts, she hastened through the kitchen garden and the wicket gate into the orchard.

  “Look out, below!” she heard one of them bellow. She barely had time to look up and see a plum shoot by her head.

  “Master Freddy and Master Harry, come down this minute!” She used her stern voice which she had had to adopt very quickly in the past week.

  “You ain’t going to birch us are you?” The head groom had birched them soundly for running away with the stallion.

  “You are not,” she corrected. “Come down here, now.”

  The two red-headed, freckled-faced boys slowly climbed down from the trees, hanging their heads in well-rehearsed repentance. That was part of the difficulty—she had a hard time punishing them when they gazed at her with those forlorn eyes. It was as though they could not help themselves with regards to their behaviours. They needed more activity than one person alone could provide.

  “What do you have to say for yourselves, boys?” Adelaide crossed her arms o
ver her chest and looked down her nose as her old governess had done.

  “We are right sorry, miss. It was just a lark. We didn’t mean no harm.”

  “Have you not learned, after every episode thus, that you cannot run away as you please?”

  Freddy hung his head. “Yes, miss, but we didn’t go to any of the tenant farms this time.”

  “A minor improvement, I grant you...however, only just.”

  “What are you going to do to us this time?” young Harry asked.

  She tapped her finger against her chin as if thinking hard. “What do you think would be suitable?”

  Freddy and Harry eyed each other with obvious discomfort. Freddy shrugged. “Writing our numbers or declensions fifty times each?”

  “I think we have done that enough for one week. Come with me, I have a better idea.”

  Adelaide left them at the stables with the head groom, to muck out some stalls. It seemed manual labour was a more reasonable punishment and would perhaps tire them—at least she hoped. The boys would be occupied for some time, so she opened the door to the kitchen and dropped wearily into a seat at the table, across from where Cook was mixing some ingredients.

  Cook clucked her tongue. “Where were the rascals this time?”

  “In the orchard, launching plums at the poor birds.”

  “Boys get up to mischief—the master certainly did—but they need a firm hand. I don’t know what he expects a lady governess to do with them. These two ain’t going to be gracing any ball rooms at the rate they’re going.”

  Adelaide was inclined to agree. They would be lucky to see another year of life at this rate.

  This was the most that Cook, or any of the servants for that matter, had spoken to her directly. She wanted to know more about the master, but she had been afraid to ask. It was a lonely world, being a governess. Not quite one of the family and not quite a servant.

  “Does the master visit often?”

  “Whenever it suits him, I suppose. He comes twice a year, regular-like, and drops in whenever it takes his fancy. At least, he did afore he went to war. I’d say it’s not like him not to come and see to his responsibilities, though.”

  “Perhaps he will when he receives my letter.”

  Cook paused in her stirring and eyed Adelaide…perhaps with suspicion, but perhaps with a hint of respect.

  “Mayhap,” was all she said.

  It was a few hours later when the groom brought two sodden boys back to her. She looked at them and was afraid to ask.

  “I took the liberty of washing them off in the horse trough, miss. I expect they will sleep well for you tonight.”

  Adelaide nodded. “Thank you, Jeb.”

  The boys ate their meagre dinner of mutton and turnips, and did not complain when they did not receive a pudding. They went to bed without any fuss and Adelaide vowed to start the next day with activity. After an exhausting day, she went to her room near the nursery. It was more luxurious than her room at Miss Bell’s, which she had shared, but simple by the nobility’s standards. There was a bed, a small desk, a washing-stand and a chair. The paper on the walls was pale green with cream stripes, while matching green curtains framed the small window. The view from the window looked out over the thickly wooded park, and a partial view of the lake. It would do, but she could not help missing her friends and wondering how different her life would be if her parents were still alive.

  “What the devil?” Robert asked when he entered the parlour to be faced with two urchins and a bedraggled girl, who all looked as though they had been cleaning chimneys.

  Three pairs of blue eyes looked up at him from beneath the soot but only one flashed fire, and suddenly his interest was stirred.

  “I assume you are Mr. Fielding?”

  “You have the advantage of me. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” he asked dryly, though he suspected he knew.

  “I am Miss Elliot and these are your wards, Masters Freddy and Harry Appleton. They decided it would be a lark to stuff every chimney at Harlton Park with pillows. When we left, the fire had been put out, but the western wing was uninhabitable from smoke. We have travelled to London without stopping, save for changing horses, since these terrors could not be trusted to behave.”

  Robert considered the disarray before him. He was trying to assimilate the fact that his country estate had caught on fire, while this petite dragon was the governess he had hired and he had two wards he was going to have to deal with quickly. “I assume no one was injured?”

  “No, thank God.”

  Remaining silent as he thought, he moved forward and looked down his nose at the boys, from head to dirty boot. An intimidating stare always worked with new recruits in the field. He circled them twice before speaking.

  “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

  “S-s-sorry, sir.”

  “You owe Miss Elliot an apology.”

  “We are sorry, miss. We didn’t mean nothing by it. We just wanted to see if we could catch some birds.”

  He met this answer with a disgusted sniff.

  “And how do you propose to make up for damaging my estate?” Robert asked.

  Both boys seem to shrink backwards. Warily, they glanced at each other.

  He clasped his hands behind his back and resumed circling around the two boys who remained standing at attention. After an appropriate time to terrify them sufficiently, he eventually spoke.

  “By my estimation, even if I used your inheritance and your manual labour for the rest of your lives, you would not be able to pay for the damages.”

  The older boy gulped.

  “Did you behave this way when your father was alive?”

  “N-n-no, sir.”

  “Do you think he would be proud of your behaviour?”

  “N-n-no, sir.”

  “Then I shall give you one more opportunity. If you so much as do one thing without permission from Miss Elliot or myself, you will be sent to the workhouse. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If, and only if, there are no more antics, you will be allowed a walk through the park this afternoon. Do I have your word as gentleman that there will be no further mischief?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He opened the door to the entrance hall. “Please take these boys,” he said to the butler, “and have them bathed. Then please send Mr. Winton to see that they are properly clothed.” The boys went without arguing. “Guard them. Do not let them out of your sight.”

  Robert turned back to face the governess and with his quizzing glass looked at her more thoroughly. He could tell it irritated her by the way she tapped her foot and her chin jutted upwards. He resisted the urge to chuckle.

  “Well, if you have nothing to say, I will be on my way,” she snapped.

  This impertinent, filthy creature meant to leave these beings here and leave? No, she would not be allowed to deposit them like stray kittens and run away.

  “No.”

  In hindsight, it was not the most intelligent thing to say, but he was used to having his wishes obeyed without explanation.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Wait. Please.” He could see her jaw was clenched but she did stop. He closed the door and he turned back to Miss…Elliot, was it?

  “Did you receive my note?” she asked sharply.

  “I received your demands. And did you receive my reply?”

  “Do you refer to your insults?” she asked, icy disdain freezing her tone.

  Robert inclined his head. “Take it as you wish.” He could see it took great effort for her not to lash out at him. He had little doubt she would enjoy planting him a facer, tiny though she was.

  He wanted to know why she had thought it was acceptable to bring the boys here, but he could see by her state it was no time to ask such a question. She was ready to leave and some thing, most likely insanity, was telling him to try to make her stay.

  “Whatever you have to say, please do so
. I refuse to accept the blame for their behaviour. When I arrived, they had run off to trap themselves in quicksand. Whenever I needed a moment to…myself—” She blushed adorably.“—they would run away to one of the tenant farms to amuse themselves in the pigsty or steal one of your stallions and race it across the park. These boys need more than one young woman can give them. They need an army.” She mumbled the last.

  Robert admitted to himself that he had not realized they were so wild, but he would never admit as much to this young, opinionated woman, whom he suspected was a beauty beneath the dirt.

  “So you mean to leave them here and run away?” he asked calmly.

  Her eyes flashed sparks at him again. He thought he had appealed to her honour and that perhaps, by challenging her, he might be able to convince her to stay.

  “Oh yes, indeed,” she surprised him by saying.

  “And where were you intending to go?”

  “Where I should have gone in the first place—to accept the hospitality of my friends.”

  Robert felt his brow wrinkle. He did not wish to be left alone with these unknown little beings. “Why did you not do so in the first place?”

  “Pride,” she whispered. Backing, she turned and began to walk towards the door.

  “And it does not bruise your pride to walk away from a commitment?” he asked acidly.

  “Pride is overrated,” she told the door.

  “Will you not stay until I find a suitable replacement?”

  “Such a person does not exist. What they need is someone to be a father to them.” She turned and looked at him pointedly.

  “I see I am to be judged and hanged without a trial. Very well.” She had the grace to look away. He would dearly love to know if she was blushing beneath the soot. “I must go out, so if you desire to bathe and change your clothing, I will then take you where you wish to go.”

  Chapter 3