Capturing the Governess’s Heart by Sally Forbes
Chapter Four
The hired hack clattered onto the crowded street where the agency was located. The traffic was less heavy there, but it still took some minutes for the carriage to find an opening at the curbside to drop Emma.
She knew they could not afford to retain the carriage while she went inside for her interview, but Elizabeth did not know the reason why not. She hopped out, eager to enjoy the rare London sunshine and the interesting sights all around.
Elizabeth held on to her sister’s arm and clucked like a mother hen. “It won’t do for you to go inside looking all disheveled. I declare you were too distracted during our ride even to fix your bonnet!”
Emma tapped her foot nervously as Elizabeth smoothed her auburn hair and twirled curls of it around her fingers to frame Emma’s pale face. She then impatiently fixed her bonnet and jammed the hairpins back in place. Once that small service to her appearance was done, Emma squeezed her sister’s fingertips.
“I’m hopeful the outcome of this meeting will help to secure our future,” she admitted to Elizabeth. “I hope I’m on time!”
“Father sent your letters of recommendations and your portfolio ahead of you. I can’t imagine Mr. Easton could look at your landscapes of Whitehaven and not find you a suitable position. Don’t be nervous, Emma. You’ve got such talent; I just wonder why you are so determined to waste it as a governess.”
“My sketches won’t make us any money,” Emma muttered. She then sought to distract her sister before Elizabeth began to wonder about her preoccupation with finances. “I won’t be long, but you should feel free to walk up and down the block. The vicar assured me this is a safe part of town.”
Elizabeth’s teasing smile returned. “Still, it would be safer had we made the acquaintance of that handsome gentleman. I can’t understand why you didn’t even give him your name! He seemed so genuinely interested in knowing you.”
“By the seal on his carriage and the shine on his boots, that gentleman was clearly a member of the peerage far above our station,” Emma chided her sister. “We must remember our place in life so that we don’t walk about with our heads in the clouds.”
“I’m certain he would have wished you luck along with me,” Elizabeth said. She kissed Emma’s cheek and waved her up the steps to the austere-looking office building.
Emma took one last glance at her sister, smiling in the sunshine, and pulled open the heavy doors. Once inside, her heart sunk: the large clock on the wall said she was five minutes late. Trying hard not to appear as flustered as she felt, Emma went to the desk to announce her arrival.
“Miss Emma Fletcher. I have an appointment with Mr. Easton.”
The clerk looked up and crooked an eyebrow at the clock. “Had an appointment. I will have to check and see if Mr. Easton is still available.”
Emma clutched her reticule and stood against the wall the clerk indicated. The office was smaller than she had expected, and there was a busy flow of people stomping back and forth through the confined lobby. The employment office placed everyone from laundresses to stone masons, ladies’ maids to grooms, and the crowd would have fascinated Emma … if she hadn’t been so terrified. What if she had lost her chance already by being late? She doubted she could expect to get her reference letters and portfolio returned, and she would have to start all over.
“Miss Fletcher? Mr. Easton will be able to see you in just a few moments.” The clerk then groaned aloud as a woman rushed through the doors and headed straight to his desk.
“Please, sir. I need another chance!” The woman cried without caring who saw or heard.
Emma averted her eyes, but the conversation was unavoidable in the small lobby.
“You’ve been told already, Mrs. Atmond, that any absence would result in the termination of your position.”
“But my mother was ill! She had no one else to attend her!”
“Your absence caused your employers no end of distress, and they have already secured a new maid from our service. Because of your infraction, your name is at the bottom of the list. All you can do is wait.” The clerk pursed his lips, looking as though he need say no more.
“It was only two days, and the other maids covered my duties, sir. Please! This position feeds my family.” The woman looked as if she was ready to kneel before the desk and beg.
The clerk waved his hand, and two other agency employees came forward to guide the weeping woman back outside. Emma prayed her sister was gone from the steps and did not see the distressing scene. She then dug out a handkerchief and twisted it nervously in her hands. The rules were strict when so many people sought the same employment, and she worried her chances were already ruined by arriving late.
“Miss Fletcher?”
Mr. Easton waved her impatiently into his office. He was a stern-looking man, with deep lines next to his mouth that indicated he did a slight frown. Without a word, he shut the door behind Emma and pointed to a hard chair with a quick flick of his hand. She sat ramrod straight, her heart hammering, and it took all her strength to stop twisting the handkerchief and fold her hands politely.
“Why was your family unable to find you a decent connection, Miss Fletcher? It seems your father’s respectable position in Whitehaven would easily allow your introduction to the well-off families in your neighborhood.” Mr. Easton sat and stared at her with gray, unblinking eyes.
Emma swallowed hard. “There was a family illness that prevented it. I was never introduced to society.”
“Shame,” Mr. Easton said. His eyes flicked over her figure and then glanced towards the door. “You were late, Miss Fletcher, so I am not sure you are serious about finding gainful employment.”
“I apologize, Mr. Easton. My sister and I are not used to your wonderful city.”
He waved away her excuse. “With all your father’s business connections, I am certain a place could be found for you among the families of Whitehaven.”
“I’m afraid my father is also in poor health, Mr. Easton.”
“His health was not too poor to write to me.”
Emma bit her tongue. She needed Mr. Easton’s help, but he seemed determined to put her off. His colorless demeanor told her he was not willing to overextend himself and was already overworked as it was.
She had to speak carefully in the hopes of appealing to him without bothering him. It was hard for Emma to keep the panic out of her voice, but she took a deep breath and spoke gently.
“My father was uncertain how to proceed, and he had heard such wonderful things about your agency. Governess positions are not easy to find, and he wanted to make sure we went through the proper channels and made the best match. Hence his hiring you.”
“You are not listening to my advice, Miss Fletcher.” Mr. Easton scowled and shuffled large stacks of paper on his desk. You say that you and your father are reliant on my expertise, yet you arrived for this interview five minutes late and have already rejected my initial suggestions.”
“I apologize, sir.” Emma took another deep breath. “I only wish my family had made such connections as you suggest. Please consider that I am willing to move from Whitehaven and accept a good placement wherever it may be found.”
Mr. Easton’s scowl stayed in place, but he found her letters and portfolio and flipped through them quickly. “You play harpsichord?”
“Yes, sir. I also assisted my younger sister in her practice. She has the talent, but I learned many good teaching techniques while helping her.”
“Do you read Latin, Miss Fletcher?”
Emma nodded. “Yes, sir. I also speak and read both French and Italian.”
“That is quite an education.”
“My mother was insistent,” Emma said. She managed to keep the catch out of her voice which always occurred when speaking of her deceased mother.
“And your drawing teacher seemed quite enamored with your sketches. Can he not be contacted and consulted in finding a suitable position?” Mr. Easton asked.
“It has been many years since we had his acquaintance, sir.”
“In the future, Miss Easton, I suggest you keep up with your connections so that others must not have to step in for you,” Mr. Easton snapped.
“Yes, sir. Thank you for the advice. I will make sure to follow it.”
He gave Emma a sharp glance, decided she was sincere, but still scowled. “I am a very busy man, Miss Fletcher. Donald!”
The clerk Emma had seen in the lobby came flying over and threw open the office door. “Yes, Mr. Easton, sir?”
“Bring me the latest list of openings, please.”
The clerk glanced at Emma briefly, then disappeared to do his boss’s bidding. While they waited, Mr. Easton steepled his fingers and said nothing. Emma kept her eyes on her open portfolio and prayed that a position was available for her.
After the expense of traveling, not to mention the cost of new traveling costumes and the latest fashions, she could not return to her father empty-handed. They would be worse off than ever then, and Emma could not bear the thought of adding to her father’s debt.
“Here, sir.” Donald returned at a run and handed Mr. Easton a list. Then he turned back to the lobby and shut the door behind him.
Mr. Easton considered the list, and his scowl deepened. “It is as I have foreseen. The lady, who arrived before you, was on time for her appointment. She has accepted the last available governess position.”
Tears sprung to Emma’s eyes. “Surely there must be something!”
Mr. Easton’s cold, gray eyes glared at Emma. “Your letters of reference indicated you are decent with a needle. There is a position as a seamstress for one of our London factories.”
Emma could not speak; the position was far below her hopes and much lower than she could accept without disgracing her family’s good name.
“No?” Mr. Easton’s lips thinned as he perused the list. “We do not have any openings for a drawing teacher, and most families prefer a gentleman’s instruction in the arts.”
Emma knew there was no hope of landing a position drawing caricatures for the local papers or even sketching products for adverts. It was not fit to work for a woman, though Emma knew it mattered little to the finished artwork whether the hand was female.
“New Bethlehem Hospital is always in need of nurses. Your references say nothing about your nursing abilities, but I believe they are willing to hire and let you learn on the job,” Mr. Easton said.
Her breath caught in her throat. Empty bed pans and mop up blood? The idea was enough to make her feel faint. “I’m sorry, Mr. Easton, but I believe that is a job one must feel a calling for in order to do the greatest good.”
“So, you have no call to help your fellow man?”
“I fear I may faint at the sight of blood.” Emma lied, but she could not bear the idea of working in the fearsome hospital.
“Well, Miss Fletcher, your connections are not good enough to recommend you as a lady’s maid. You would have to start off assisting a housekeeper and working downstairs before you learned the necessary duties.”
Emma’s shoulders began to slump, and she fought to keep her head up. “Mr. Easton, please advise me. Will another governess position come available?”
“Yes, but I cannot be certain of the time. You must be willing to remain in London and have patience.” He dropped the list to his desk and met her wide eyes. “Is that possible?”
She nodded and pressed her handkerchief to her trembling lips.
“You must consider all your options, Miss Fletcher, and I am dismayed that you have overlooked the most obvious of choices.”
Emma raised her eyes to meet his stare but did not understand. “What choice, Mr. Easton?”
He sniffed, and a trace of what could have been construed as amusement passed over his stern face. “Why, marriage, of course. Miss Easton. You do not have to let a family illness and your lack of introduction keep you from the station of holy matrimony.”
“You are the first to suggest it, Mr. Easton,” Emma confessed.
His eyebrows raised. “Surely that is not possible. Miss Fletcher, you are an attractive woman with a decent family name.”
She lowered her eyes and bit her lip demurely.
Mr. Easton waved away her modesty and continued by gesturing to her open portfolio. “You are clearly accomplished and of the right age. Why not go home to Whitehaven and find yourself a suitable match?”
Emma again began to tear up at the idea of returning home empty-handed. How could she return to her father after the great expense of traveling to London and ask him to provide her with a dowry? On top of that, Emma’s stomach knotted at the idea of being sold into marriage. There was no assurance she would make a match that would assist Elizabeth or even see her father comfortably into his old age. No, working was the only choice she had.
“Miss Fletcher, please. I insist you follow my advice. Marriage is the best option.”
She dared to shake her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Easton, but there are too many impediments. I am willing to work. Is there nothing else on your list?”
He scowled again. “Impediments? Such female nonsense. If there is no existing connection in your hometown, then you must apply yourself to London society.”
Emma fought back the tears and could not trust herself to speak.
Mr. Easton took her silence as compliance and dug through his desk drawers. “I do know a woman who can help young women in your position. She has a long record of successful matches and would be happy to take you on for a nominal fee. The fee, of course, will be returned to you if your husband is satisfied with the union.”
Emma accepted the card with a shaking hand. “Thank you, Mr. Easton.”
He clapped his hands together and stood up, going to his office door and opening it for her. “Good luck to you, Miss Fletcher.”
“Please, sir, could you not keep me in consideration for a governess position?”
Mr. Easton heaved a sigh. “Yes, Miss Fletcher. I will keep you informed if a position comes about. But, please, consider my good advice.”
“Thank you, sir.” Emma was shuffled into the lobby and the office door shut behind her.
The clerk looked up from his desk and seemed unsurprised to see her tears. Another two women stood against the wall where Emma had waited. One anxiously adjusted the drooping feather in her bonnet while the other stared straight ahead with tired, vacant eyes. Emma could tell, despite her tears, that she was better off than them, and she did her best to stop her sniveling. She had to find her strength again and have faith.
Still, Emma could not stand the idea of facing her sister with red eyes. She stopped in the corner near the front doors and dabbed at her cheeks. Surely a governess position would open up soon! Or she would have to return and take her wages as a nurse or seamstress. To pay a matchmaker’s fee on top of her traveling expenses was beyond what Emma could endure and her father could afford. She had to find employment and not depend on marriage to save her and her family.
Emma took one more deep breath and then pulled open the front doors. Elizabeth was again standing at the bottom of the steps and smiling in the sunshine. She walked slowly down to join her sister and prayed Elizabeth would not see the upset in her eyes.
Her younger sister noticed in an instant. “Oh, Emma! Whatever is the matter?”
“Nothing, dearest. There are just not any open governess positions at the moment. I must be patient.”
Elizabeth frowned. “You’ve never been impatient before, so why do you look so sad?”
For a reckless moment, Emma wished to confess everything to her sister: their father’s failing business, the building debts, and the worry that his health was rapidly declining. Then, she looked at Elizabeth’s bright eyes and steadied herself.
“There were no decent positions, and I find myself eager for the independence of earning a wage. That is all, dearest.”
“Perhaps you are still shaken up from your tumble earlier,” Elizabeth suggested. She rushed forward to flag down a hackney carriage.
“I’m fine, dear. No need to worry.”
“Then, cheer up. Look what I found!” Elizabeth picked up a parcel of apples that she had set on the stone steps. “There was a cart at the end of the street and I was able to replace the ones that scattered all over the road.”
Emma’s smile wavered at the thought of more money spent, but she loved her sister for the gesture. “I’m so glad we won’t return to Cousin Matilda empty-handed.”
“I still wish you had let that gentleman buy the replacements,” Elizabeth said, determined to tease her sister out of her sadness.
Emma’s smile stiffened at the mention of the fine gentleman. If she hadn’t run into him, she would have gotten the governess position! The thought plagued her throughout the whole carriage ride back to the vicarage, despite the memory of his warm eyes.
Upon their arrival, even the vicar was able to see Emma was inconsolable. He took her hands and told her firmly: “Have faith, Miss Emma. The Lord will open the right door for you. Have faith, and all will be well.”
Emma thanked him for his kind words and endeavored to be both faithful and patient.
