A Most Unusual Governess (6 page)

'But I was wrong, too,' he went on. You see, I caught sight of William racing through the woods on my way back to the house. I've never seen him like that before. He's always been so... '

'Distant?' asked Sarah.

Yes. Distant. But there was nothing distant about him then. He looked... alive.'

Sarah nodded. 1 know.'

'And it was you who brought him to life. I don't want the children behaving like ragamuffins, but a little play is...' He smiled, '...a little play is perhaps something they need.'

'It is,' said Sarah. You must have needed to play yourself. I can't believe that learning to run the Grange meant you never had time to play.'

You're right.' He returned to his chair. 'I used to play in the stables as a boy. I'd forgotten all about it until you reminded me.'

His expression softened, but then he said, 'However, the children have a lot to learn.'

'But not all of it is Latin and Greek,' said Sarah. They will learn and lot from playing, as you must have learnt a lot from playing in the stables, as well as simply enjoying yourself,' said Sarah.

'How so?'

Well, you must have learned how the horses were cared for, and how many jobs there were to be done, for example. And you must have learned a lot about the stable hands as well - which men worked well on their own, for instance, and which ones needed to be pushed. Then, too, you must have developed a respect for them, seeing how hard they worked. All important knowledge for a boy who was going to inherit an estate.'

He gave her a looked of mixed respect and surprise. 'Miss Davenport. Has anyone ever told you that you are a most unusual governess?'

Sarah gave a rueful smile. 1 never thought I'd be a governess at all. I thought —'

Yes?' he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

'It doesn't matter what I thought,' she said quietly and a little wistfully.

He seemed to sense the change in her mood and did not press her further. Instead, he changed the subject and asked her, What made you apply for a job as a governess here? Did your family come from Kent?'

'Oh, no,' she told him, startled that he had made that assumption, although of course it was a perfectly natural one. In fact, I didn't apply for a job as a governess at all. I applied for a job as Lady Templeton's companion.'

Now it was his turn to look surprised.

'I had already worked as a companion, you see. When my father died my aunt and uncle adopted my brothers as they had no children of their own. They needed an heir - an heir and a spare, as my uncle put it - but they had no use for a girl. And so one of our neighbours in Derbyshire asked me if I would like to take care of her aunt. The old lady lived in London and needed someone to look after her, and so I travelled south. I stayed with her for a year, but sadly she died, and when she did so it seemed natural for me to seek another position as a companion. And so I applied for the position with Lady Templeton.'

There was an unusual look of compassion in his eyes. It must have been hard for you,' he said.

'Perhaps.' Sarah dismissed her problems lightly, although they had occasioned her much hardship. 'And then I went to see Lady Templeton. She told me I was too young to be her companion but I had already met Lucy by then, in one of the corridors. We had taken to each other and Lady Templeton offered me a post as her governess.'

'And do you like being a governess?' he asked.

Yes, I do. Now that I know I don't have to speak Russian and play the harp, I like it very much indeed!'

He laughed, and she breathed a sigh of relief, because her tongue had run away with her again and she had not known how he would react to her teasing.

You must find Kent very different to Derbyshire, he said, on a different note. It's a tame and cultivated county, instead of being wild and remote. Not for nothing is it called the garden of England. Do you miss your home?'

'No.' She shook her head. 1 enjoyed growing up in Derbyshire. I loved playing on the high peaks when I was a little girl. But no, I don't miss it. The people I care about are no longer there. It's not my home any longer.'

'It explains your determined personality. If you spent your childhood playing on the wild Derbyshire moors with your brothers, instead of sitting demurely at home with your mother, it's no wonder you developed such a strong character and such an outspoken attitude to life. And as you had to care for your brothers, it's no wonder you know so much about children - far more, in fact, than I do.' As if realising he was allowing the conversation to become too personal, he drew back a little and said, 1 Ve travelled through the Peak District a number of times. It's very different to here, but I've always thought it beautiful.'

'It is. But in my mind it's too tied up with my mother's illness and my parents' death.' She stopped, wondering why she had confided such intimate thoughts to him. She continued in a more formal way. 'I can truly say I prefer Kent.'

She felt a catch in her throat as his eyes sought out hers and again there was compassion in his glance, as though he realised that for someone so young she had seen a lot of tragedy. She felt the danger of responding to that compassion and so she looked deliberately out of the window.

He followed her eyes to the peaceful parkland that lay outside. He said, 1 love the Grange, and I hope William will love it too.'

'He already does. He has told me he never wants to leave.'

'Just wait until he is eighteen,' said Lord Randall. 'He will be pestering me to take him up to town and make him a member of White's. To say nothing of expecting me to introduce him to Gentleman Jackson at the gym! But afterwards, I hope hell want to come back here.'

Sarah's thoughts, now that they had returned to the children, moved on to the work she still had to do. She had not prepared Lucy's lessons for the morning, and remembering that she still had a lot to do she stood up. 'I've already taken up enough of your time,' she said. If I want to have my lessons ready for tomorrow, I really must be getting on.'

Lord Randall made no objection - he had probably, thought Sarah, already spent more time on her than he had intended - and gave a brief nod. But as she made to pick up the pile of botany books he said, 'Have you read this?' He strode over to one of the bookcases and took a book of poetry from the shelves.

'Childe Harold's Pilgrimage,' she said, seeing what it was he had taken down. 'No, I haven't. I know everyone was talking about it at the time.' She remembered the stir Byron's work had caused when it had first appeared in 1812. 'But... '

She didn't finish her sentence. But we had no money to spare for books, she had been about to say, but she didn't want his pity and so she changed her mind.

"Take it with you,' he said, not noticing the tailing away of her sentence. 1 think youll enjoy it.'

'Poetry?' asked Sarah, surprised.

'Don't you like poetry?' he asked.

Yes, but... '

'But you thought I wouldn't. I do have some civilised habits,' he said with a wry smile.

She put out her hand but did not take the small book, which was wrapped in his large hand. To take it, she would have to touch him. He seemed to feel it, for the air was suddenly charged with the same electricity which had crackled between them earlier, not brought on by anger this time but by something deeper and more profound. He relinquished the book, placing it on the side table, and she picked it up from there. He seemed to be very close to her, even though he had taken a step back. She put out her hand and took the book, and added it to her pile. She would enjoy reading it, perhaps outside, in the evenings, once the children were in bed - at least, if the weather lasted.

She turned her face to his to bid him goodnight but she could not meet his eye and her voice came out as a whisper: 'Goodnight.'

'Goodnight,' he replied, and his voice was no more than a husky breath.

She walked out of the library, her legs trembling slightly.

As she closed the door behind her she wondered how it was that a man she had dismissed as rude, arrogant and overbearing could turn out to have so many hidden depths to his character. And how it was that those depths stirred her in a way she had never been stirred before. Because being close to him had awakened in her new sensations and feelings; sensations she had not even known existed before her arrival at Watermead Grange.

James glanced round the study. He had left everything in good order the previous evening but there was still a lot to be done.

He gave a sigh. The last thing he wanted was to be inside. The day was hot, and making matters even more difficult was the fact that Sarah was in the garden, playing with the children. A few days ago the sight would have angered him, but now he found that he would like nothing better than to go out and join them. So charming was the scene that, no matter how hard he tried to keep his mind on his work, his eyes kept drifting back to it.

Sarah was looking delightful in a spotted muslin that must have been at least three years old. How she contrived to look so delectable in such a shabby dress he did not know. It must be the subtle curves of her slim figure and the smoothness of her golden skin, he thought, that made him forget all about the worn nature of her clothes.

The children, too, were looking bright and happy as they laughed and played. Yes, it was a charming scene.

He gave a sigh and sat down at his desk: looking out of the window was not getting his work done. He had just finished checking the bills for repairs to the barn when the door opened and Hodgess entered the room.

'Mr Transom, my lord,' he announced.

'Dom?' James stood up, clasping his childhood friend by the hand as Dominic entered the room. It seemed he was fated to neglect his work that morning. Well, it would have to wait. Dom,' he said, clapping his friend on the back, It's good to see you again.'

Although the same age, the two men could not have been more different. Whilst James was dark, Dominic was fair, his hair bleached by the strong summer sun. His family owned one of the neighbouring estates and the two men had played together as boys, spending their school holidays fishing or swimming or messing about in boats. But despite the fact that they were the same age, James had always had the stronger character, and had often saved his friend from childhood scrapes. It was James who had cautioned Dom against buying a "first class horse" from "an
honest man in trouble when they had been at Eton together, insisting that they should see the animal first: a good thing as it turned out, because the "first class horse" had been in reality a knock-kneed, broken-winded toothless old nag. He had protected Dom from the card sharps at university, and had saved him any number of untimely marriages, when Dom had taken pity on a serving wench or been dazzled by a particularly voluptuous ladybird. So that, between them, they had had an enjoyable childhood and even more enjoyable university years.

Since then, their paths had crossed less often. Whilst James had been in the army, Dom had devoted himself to running his estate. But every time James had been home on leave the two men had met and renewed their friendship.

'I heard you were back,' said Dominic as Hodgess backed out of the room. 'I thought I'd ride over and pay a call.'

Tm glad you did. I was coming over to see you myself this afternoon. Come in. Sit down - if you can find room,' he said, glancing at the papers which seemed to cover every spare inch of space.

Dominic moved a sheaf of papers and sat down on a shield-backed chair. 'One of the perils of going away,' he said with a smile, looking at James's full desk.

'One of the many,' agreed James.
‘B
ut tell me, what's been happening whilst I've been away.'

The two men talked of general matters until at last James said, Tm glad you came over, Dom. Not just because I'm pleased to see you, but because I think you may be able to give me some information I need.'

Dominic gave him a curious look. Information?' There had been a more serious note to James's voice, and Dominic wondered what it meant. Surely James had left the army? Surely now he was only interested in running the estate?

James threw down the quill with which he'd been toying and said, Yes. Information.' His mood had grown dark. Tell me,' he said, Vhat do you know about the radical movement?'

Dominic's mood darkened, too. TNfot a lot. Only what everyone else knows. That the radicals are unhappy with the government, and that they blame the politicians for unemployment and high taxes. They think their MPs are getting fat whilst they starve. And they're unhappy with royalty, too. They hate Prinny for his extravagance, and are angry that the money for his extravagances - the Pavilion down in Brighton, to name just one - comes out of the pockets of the poor.' 'Go on.'

Well, they're not content to try and change things peacefully. They want to change things by force instead. When we had the war to bind us all together it was different, but now the war is over there's a lot of unrest.'

'If the radicals manage to tap into the mood of unrest that's disturbing the country then they'll be capable of doing a great deal of harm,' said James, nodding. 'Some of them are reasonable, but a lot of them want to overthrow the old order and set up a new one in its place.'