Capturing the Governess’s Heart by Sally Forbes
Chapter Fourteen
Emma adjusted quite easily to the new schedule at Dalwater, which was quite contrary to what she had thought would happen. She had spent just two weeks doing her new job, and she already felt as though it was something she had done every day of her life. She was even getting over her fear of horses and riding more confidently.
But back in the schoolroom, she had her work cut out for her, teaching Henry about adding and subtracting his numbers.
“It certainly isn't as hard as it seemed the first day,” Henry said with a glint in his eyes, after failing to answer any of the five sums she had given him correctly.
“Is that why you decided not to get any of them, right?” Emma asked, trying to keep the amusement she felt out of her voice.
“Of course not! It isn't my fault I didn't get them right,” he said and shrugged. Emma never ceased to be amazed at the little man’s bravado.
“So, it is mine, then?” she asked, and he smiled.
“No, it isn't. It's the fault of the sums. They all look easy enough to start with, only they turn out to be so complicated,” he concluded with a mischievous look in his eyes.
“I think we shall have to do them all over again until you can get all five of them correct. I shan’t have you shifting the blame onto the innocent sums when all you have to do is solve them.”
“Alright, then,” Henry responded, but the look on his face said otherwise. However, Emma wasn't ready to let him off too easily. It was her job to teach him, after all.
“You told me just a few days ago that if we put together eight apples and another eight apples, we would have sixteen apples,” Henry said, a confused look on his face and Emma wondered whether to soften her features.
“Yes, I did,” she responded promptly.
“Then why do ten apples and six apples make sixteen again?” he asked, clearly baffled. Emma tried not to smile so as not to make him feel bad. She then explained it all over again.
They had done the sums repeatedly, and by the time Henry eventually got four out of five correct, the boy looked as exhausted as if he had spent the day digging a well, not to mention in a foul mood.
Emma decided it was best to continue with the mathematics another time, and so she left him to play. It was the least she could do to try to brighten his mood after all.
She would be free all afternoon and decided not to wallow in boredom for the rest of the day.
“Ah, there you are, just the right company I've been searching for,” Lady Abigail said as she strolled into the schoolroom looking elegant.
“Isn't it such a bright afternoon?” Emma responded and smiled brightly at her charge, smoothed her skirts and sitting in an opposite chair.
“Of course, Miss Emma. An afternoon bright and lovely enough to enjoy reading poems, I daresay,” Abigail said with a bright twinkling in her eyes.
“You love poems too? They lift my spirits as well,” Emma said, and they both giggled like schoolgirls.
"Oh, it is your lucky day, then, Miss Emma, because I have brought you some of the poetry books my mother gave me years ago.”
Emma had always had an artistic and creative side to herself, including a poetic side. She would read poems to her mother before she slept … when she was still healthy.
The thought almost brought tears to her eyes. How much she missed her mother!
“I wandered through every chartered street, Near where the chartered Thames does flow, in every face I meet, Marks of weakness, marks of love.” Lady Abigail read aloud the first stanza of William Blake’s famous London Poem from a fragile-looking book she held carefully in her hands. Emma could practically see the Duke of Elsby imprinted on the girl’s mind as she read out the words.
“What are you thinking about, Miss Emma?” Lady Abigail asked, still smiling, and passing the book to Emma.
“Oh, I was simply lost in the beauty of Blake’s words,” Emma responded and quickly proceeded to read the next stanza. She wanted to evade any other questions Lady Abigail might have for her.
“In every cry of every man, in every infant cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban. The mind-forged manacles I hear:” Emma recited, and Lady Abigail came and sat beside her so she could read the next stanza.
“How the chimney sweeper's cry, Every blackening church appalls, And the hapless shoulder's sigh, Runs in blood down palace walls.” She read and closed the book.
“But I haven't read the last stanza yet. Why have you closed the book?” Emma asked with raised eyebrows.
“Because it wouldn't be fair on my part if I hid it from you that the duke has a huge library filled with books of literature and poetry.”
Emma felt her stomach flutter at the thought of sitting down to read poems together with the duke. She felt heat rush up to her face.
“We could go there together one day, you know. You needn’t be embarrassed about your love for books. I love them as well,” Lady Abigail said with a warm smile.
But the thought of being in the duke's library made Emma’s cheeks turn crimson.
“I’m certainly not embarrassed, and I confess I am quite excited about the thought of the library. Sadly, Abigail, I doubt we shall be able to go to the library together. That is not within my realm as governess, and I do not think the duke would approve,” she concluded with a wistful smile.
“I'm afraid you must have a wrong perception of the duke. He's very kind and generous.” Of course, Emma knew that already, but she was wary of doing anything that might result in her losing her job.
“I have no arguments against that whatsoever, and I shall consider your suggestion.”
Lady Abigail smiled brightly, as she dearly loved books. “Is that a promise, Miss Emma?”
“Yes, it is. Now, let us return our attention back to reading the books we have at hand already.”
“Of course,” agreed Abigail, and they both turned their eyes to the tattered old poetry book once more.
Together, they read and recited some more of the poems within, and Emma sensed the bond growing between them over their shared love. Sometimes they were both moved by the words on the page, sometimes they giggled at the old-fashioned language, sometimes they sat in quiet awe at the poets’ skill.
Their lyrical reverie was broken when Lucy walked through the door with a tray of tea and biscuits. She bustled in, her silky brown dress swishing as she approached them.
“Tea for you, Lady Abigail.” She poured the hot tea from the silver-gilt teapot into a dainty white porcelain teacup and handed it to the young woman.
“You too, Miss Fletcher.”
“Thank you kindly, Lucy Brown.”
Emma noticed Abigail’s sly smile and gazed at her wonderingly. She couldn't imagine what it could mean, yet she fancied it had an oddly dreamy quality to it. One might almost think Abigail was smiling at some unseen imaginary friend. Nothing was clear about that smile to Emma, but she was briefly diverted from her thoughts of it by Lucy serving them a plate of delicious-looking biscuits to accompany the tea.
“If you’ll excuse me, Lady Abigail, Miss Emma. I’ll be in the kitchen if you should need anything else.”
“Thank you, Lucy,” the two women said simultaneously as they watched Lucy bustle out of the drawing-room. As she closed the door behind her, Emma turned immediately to Abigail, once more trying to divine the meaning of the young girl’s peculiar smile. She found herself eager to hear what her charge would say next.
“Is something troubling you, Abigail? Something you would like to share?” she asked, smiling to mask her concern.
“Well, may I share my little secret with you, Miss Emma? It will be safe with you, won’t it?”
“I hope so. I suppose it depends on what it is.”
Abigail grinned and leaned closer. “I think I have a feeling of … admiration … for the Duke of Elsby ... for Theo. In fact, I think I may have rather a crush on him,” she whispered, lowering her gaze to her fidgeting fingers. Her cheeks flamed crimson.
A relieved Emma smiled warmly.
“Indeed. I saw how he stole a glance at you earlier at Elsby Manor.”
“Really?” the girl gasped in delight. “Do you think he likes me too, then?"
She blushed once more and a broad smile lit her pretty face. Emma was pleased they had already grown close enough for Abigail to trust her with such an important secret. Wistfully, she allowed herself to imagine forming such a close bond with the duke, but just as the pleasant picture began to form in her mind, the door opened, and the Dowager Duchess entered, bringing their conversation to an abrupt halt.
“What is all this excitement about, Abigail?”
“Nothing, Grandmother.”
“Good afternoon, Dowager Duchess,” Emma said with a curtsy.
The old lady ignored her, addressing her granddaughter again. “We shall be leaving in the next hour to go into town for some dress fittings. Please ensure you are ready.”
Without pausing, she turned on her heel and left the room, not once acknowledging the governess’s presence. It was clearly evident to Emma that the dowager did not like her at all, although the reason for it was a complete mystery, known only to the dowager herself.
“Well, I must go, I suppose.” Abigail sighed and rose with obvious reluctance. “But I shall see you at dinner, Miss Emma,” she said as she followed her grandmother out of the door.
“Yes. Enjoy your shopping trip,” Emma said, her smile fading as Abigail disappeared.
She adjusted her skirt and sat down again. Absently, she held the tattered poetry book in her hand and wondered why on earth the Dowager Duchess should take such a dislike to her for no apparent reason. Eventually, she had to abandon her fruitless train of thought, vowing not to let the woman’s dislike affect her ability to do her job.
The children’s education and welfare must be her priority, despite the old lady’s black looks. She suddenly thought of all the people she had ever cared for─her mother and father, and Elizabeth, now the children … and perhaps … the duke.
She stood up, feeling suddenly languorous. She had no duties for the rest of the afternoon, so she headed for the library, the duke’s domain. As she descended the stairs, Emma once more found herself lost in pleasant fantasies about her employer; she pictured a life with Robert, a marriage, children, everlasting happiness. But as she reached the Great Hall, she forced herself back to reality, reminding herself of her station in life and her purpose as a governess to the duke’s wards.
“You don’t fit into his world, Emma,” she thought aloud.
I’m certainly not about to jeopardize my position by dwelling on such silly, schoolgirl fantasies, she told herself. The thought of being banished from the duke’s house … from the duke himself … was unthinkable. She made up her mind. She would forget about her unrealistic expectations and concentrate fully on her reasons for taking the position in the first place─ to support her sister.
As much as she tried, though, the same silly, romantic thoughts about Robert kept coming back. She couldn't stop thinking about his fine build, his handsome features, the way his ash-blond hair and mutton-chop whiskers framed his oblong-shaped face, his fine, aquiline nose, and those kinds, hazel-brown eyes that always seemed to fix her with their gaze. And that smile…
He was simply too good-looking, too charismatic, for any young lady to ignore.
“Miss Emma?”
“Oh my!” She held her hand to her breast in shock. “You startled me, Your Grace!”
“My apologies. I saw you from afar, and I thought we might take a walk in the gardens if that notion pleases you, of course.”
Oh, why is he making it so difficult to avoid him? She had been trying so hard to push aside the unrealistic romantic imaginings of him that had filled her thoughts only moments ago … but here was … asking her to accompany him on a walk … just the two of them!
But how can I refuse him? He is my employer, after all.Perhaps he is lonely? It was certainly true that the duke seemed to prefer keeping company only with his family members and his best friend, the Duke of Elsby. Could it be that he enjoyed the company of the young, well-educated governess? Perhaps he wants to discuss the children’s education further? Yes, that must be it.
“Would you please walk with me, Miss Emma?” The duke asked once more, a note of pleading in his voice. He looked down upon her, his expression suddenly boyish and unguarded.
“Of course, your Grace,” she finally agreed, swayed by the beseeching look in his eyes. Smiling, he offered her his arm, and she took it. They walked on side by side out into the gardens.
She couldn't hide her excitement as they strolled down the well-manicured paths of the formal garden, taking in the intoxicating scent of lavender and roses. She found it impossible to stop herself from smiling, and every time she dared to glance at the duke, he was smiling down at her. He was an amusing conversationalist, eager to point out his favorite spots for play or to hide in the grounds as a boy, the surrounding forests where he had learned to hunt, and the best gallops for the horses.
She found him utterly delightful to listen to and reveled in hearing his boyhood reminiscences, yet it struck her that it seemed to have been a rather lonely time for him, having no siblings to share it with. She began to relax and enjoy herself in his company for the first time. It was a beautiful day, and she was walking in a beautiful garden with the man she …. loved?
After a while, he began to ask her about her own childhood and her past. She told him all about Whitehaven, her mother’s illness and how she had nursed her through to her death.
“How terrible for you to suffer her loss at such a young age, and after nursing her for so long. It shows what loving, dutiful lady you are if I might say so, Miss Emma. I am glad you had your sister to help you carry on, though, to give you a purpose. It strikes me that this is one reason why you and lady Abigail have grown quite close in such a short time─you must understand something of her terrible loss. Of the children’s loss, I mean.”
“Yes, I think so too, Your Grace. We have discussed it. Pardon my saying so, but she suffers, I think, from feeling unable to talk about her parents to anybody in the family for fear of upsetting them too. It was somewhat the same for myself and Elizabeth; my father would not tolerate the mention of her after she died. It is hard to grieve fully when one cannot talk about one’s loss, I fear.”
“I see. Thank you for telling me that … it rather explains the air of silent sadness Abigail seems to have about her. And, no doubt, it is much the same for Henry. I miss my sister too. She was far bolder than I about many things, and I admired her tremendously, especially the way she used to stand up to the Dowager Duchess.”
Emma couldn’t help smiling at the thought. “She sounds like a wonderful lady,” she said, and he nodded.
“But I understand, Miss Emma, that you have not yet been formally presented to society. Was that because of your mother’s illness?”
“Yes, but it is not something I regret. The time spent with her was too precious.”
“Indeed. And may I ask, with such a gentle upbringing as you have clearly had, what has made you seek employment as a governess?” Robert asked gently.
Emma hesitated to reply. They had just reached a part of the garden where a stone bench was carefully positioned to make the most of a stunning view over the River Dore in the valley below.
“May we sit a moment, Your Grace?”
“Robert, please. I insist. Of course, let us sit and admire the view.” He gestured at her to be seated and she arranged herself gracefully in the bench. He sat a few feet away from her, looking earnestly into her face.
“If it is to be Robert, then it must also be Emma,” she said firmly. He nodded in happy affirmation, his heart skipping several beats.
“You were about to tell me, I hope, about your reasons for becoming a governess.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Emma found herself telling him all about her discovery of her father’s business failings, how bad investments severely diminished their capital, and how she had vowed Elizabeth should not find it out or suffer the consequences. It was vitally important that she should have the means to have her debut into society and find a good husband to support her.
“Hence my decision to find employment. My accomplishments naturally recommended me to such a position. And so, here I am at Dalwater, enjoying my young charges very much.” She finished with a broad smile at the thought of Abigail and Henry.
The duke moved slightly closer to her. “And you are doing an excellent job with them … Emma. I couldn’t have hoped to find anyone better. I do hope you will remain with us for many years,” he said warmly, reaching out a hand toward her and then thinking better of it when he observed her sharp look. It was very hard not to take her hand or stroke her cheek or … he cleared his throat.
“Once again, Emma,” he went on, “you have impressed me with your deeply caring nature. Not many young women of your station would be generous or brave enough to sacrifice their own future for that of their sister. I am truly full of admiration.” He was in such earnest that he unconsciously moved a little closer to her, so they were now sitting only a foot apart, their heads inclined toward each other as the conversation deepened.
Emma blushed and bowed her head, then looked him in the eye again. “Oh, it was no sacrifice. I prefer to have a purpose in life rather than be some man’s ornament, the fate that probably awaited me. Besides, financially speaking, I could see I had little choice. Realistically, I am the only one who can earn money … and I doubt Father will be able to bring our finances back from the brink with so little capital available to him. So, you see, Robert, my working is also a question of necessity.”
He gazed at her with those hazel-green eyes filled with wonder.
“What a marvelous woman you are, Emma Fletcher,” he breathed, making her blush again and a shiver of delight run up her spine. “Truly, you could never be a mere ornament to any man.”
“That is kind of you to say, Robert.” Emma’s heart pounded in her breast, and a delicious waft of his cologne almost had her swooning, but she collected herself.
“And … were there no suitors, then … no possibility of marriage rather than becoming a governess.” He awaited her answer with breath held.
She shook her head, and he loosed a sigh of pleasure, which he instantly tried to cover with a cough, how he wanted to take her in his arms!
“No, nothing like that. Whitehaven is not exactly overflowing with eligible bachelors, and I would not like to have married purely out of financial necessity to help my family. The idea of marrying someone you do not have a deep affection for is abhorrent to me, I admit.” Why had she said that? His closeness, the strong physical pull she felt toward him as she looked into his handsome face, was almost impossible to resist. Once again, she had to force herself to remain outwardly calm.
“Oh, I completely agree. Unfortunately, as you have heard, my mother sees things rather differently. She is eager to parade me on the marriage market during the coming Season. I fancy I shall be put up on the block and auctioned off to the highest bidder.” He laughed ruefully.
“Yes, I have rather got that impression,” Emma said with a sympathetic laugh. “Yet you are the duke, and, surely, you have the last word on any match you make.”
“It will be a fight to the death between us, I fear,” he said, laughing again but looking at Emma with a strange glint in his eye. “You see, Emma, as Mother is often pointing out, I have not always made good choices in the past. Well, a choice, to be specific.”
Emma looked at him enquiringly, her heart beating even faster. Did she want to know of his past romantic failings? Yes, she decided, for past experience makes us what we are─and she very much liked what the duke was revealing himself to be.
“I see. That is unfortunate, but I believe we should be able to put our past mistakes to rest, whatever they may be.”
“If only Mother thought so too. You see, Emma, I made a terrible mistake, a misjudgment about … someone. Some years ago, I was all set to be married. Her name was Isabel. Everything was arranged. I thought I loved her, and I thought she loved me too. Perhaps she did. Who knows? We planned the whole wedding together. And then…” He paused, clasping his hands and looking at the ground. “…Then, one night, a few weeks before the wedding, she confessed … she was carrying another man's baby.”
Emma gasped in shock. “Of course,” he added, looking up at her, tears in his eyes. “It was devastating. I thought I would never get over it. Not only was it painful, but it was also humiliating. Of course, Mother never lets me forget. That is why she is so intent on choosing a bride for me this time.”
“Oh, how terrible for you, Robert,” she exclaimed gently, involuntarily taking one of his hands and squeezing it comfortingly. “But it wasn’t your fault … you could not have known. You loved in good faith, and the lady, who may very well have loved you too, was forced to let you down. No doubt she found herself in a very difficult situation and hardly knew what to do for the best.”
“I suppose you are right. She married the child’s father shortly, after-though I believe he was a reluctant groom, and the union is known to be unhappy. Poor Isabel.” He suddenly turned to Emma, covering her hand with his own large one. “That is the first time I have been able to think of her as ‘poor Isabel.’ Before I have always imagined myself to be the injured and foolish party, but now… thank you, Emma, for helping me to see things in a new way.”
“It is indeed sad that you had your heartbroken and were forced to go through the humiliation of canceling the wedding. You must have had many hopes centered on it, but you have shown that you can love. That is very important, I believe. But sometimes, I think … though we wish for things, they are not meant to be. Fate says something different, perhaps something better lays in store for us. I hope that is how it is with you, Robert.” She looked into his eyes and smiled sincerely. He shifted closer to her and took both her hands in his, and she did nothing to stop him. Her heartbeat had slowed, and she felt full of sorrow for his pain, wanted nothing more than to comfort him.
“Thank you, Emma. Your words are a great comfort. Yes, I have proved I can love … and perhaps I shall love again.” He looked deeply into those bewitching green eyes and felt as though he could drown in them.
“Your mother may be right in some ways. You may very well meet a nice young lady during the Season. You are unlikely to do so here, buried in the countryside.” She said, holding her breath as she stared into his beautiful eyes.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he murmured, leaning forward as if about to kiss her. His hands were warm on hers, and she felt their intoxicating strength, his lips were so near… Suddenly, she snapped up straight, making him jump. Quickly, they moved apart, and a crimson blush colored her cheeks. They stared at each other or a few moments.
“Well,” said Emma with difficulty, rising and smoothing her skirts with nervous hands. “I think it is time I should go. I have … several errands to attend to.” It was a blatant lie, but she felt that she would be lost if she didn’t leave his company soon.
“Of course, I have kept you too long. Shall we return to the house?” he offered her his arm again, once more the formal duke. She took his arm, and they proceeded in silence to the house, both apparently deep in thought.
What is happening to me? Emma was thinking desperately as she clung to the silent duke’s arm. Was he really about to kiss me? One more, she reminded herself sternly that, though she had come to care for Robert - her heart told her that she must never let her feelings overcome her duties as governess to his wards, nor could she ever forget her lowly station in life in comparison to the duke’s. He was her employer! What was she thinking, holding his hands, imagining kissing him? And what was he thinking now, of her?
It was all wrong! There could never be anything romantic between them that would not be regarded as scandalous and would ruin her reputation. Besides, the dowager hated her. Her loving heart, if not curbed, was sure to end in being sent away from Dalwater … and that thought she could not bear.
