Regency Surrender: Defiant Lords: His Unusual Governess / Claiming the Chaperon's Heart

‘If you wish. Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea.’ She opened her book and smiled at Francesca. ‘This is Colonel Lovelace’s letter to Lucasta on the eve of Battle. Although it has the same theme, it is romantic and I think you may enjoy it.’

She began to read, noticing that although John had opened his book, clearly disgusted at the idea of a sloppy romance, he soon began to listen to the poem and the others Sarah read to them.

‘For your essay I would like you to write about what romance is—and what you think Lucasta meant to Colonel Lovelace to make him write such a poem, Francesca.’

‘Oh, yes...it was so romantic,’ Francesca said and sighed. ‘Love is a wonderful thing, is it not? Have you ever been in love, Sarah?’

‘No, I haven’t. I loved my father, but I think being in love is very different.’

‘How does one know whether love is real?’

‘I am not sure—but I think when it happens one feels it in here.’ Sarah placed a hand over her heart. ‘If you think it is happening to you one day, you must give yourself time to be sure, Francesca—but I think you will know in your heart if it’s real.’

‘Men can let you down, though, can’t they? I heard about one of the servant girls...’ Francesca glanced at John, who appeared to have his nose firmly in his book. ‘Something happened to her and she was sent away in disgrace. I asked Mrs Brancaster why and she said a man had let poor Alice down. I wasn’t sure what she meant.’

‘Ah...’ Sarah swallowed hard. She hadn’t realised the girl was so innocent. ‘That is something we ought to discuss another day—perhaps in private.’

‘It meant she was having a baby and she wasn’t wed,’ John said, proving that his ears were still listening even if his nose was in the book. ‘Timothy the groom told me Alice wouldn’t say who the father was, but he thought—’

‘Yes, well, perhaps it is best if we do not speculate on such matters,’ Sarah said. She herself had learned from her old nurse where babies came from when she was sixteen and one of her father’s maids had also been dismissed for having committed the terrible sin of lying with one of the grooms.

‘I sort of knew that,’ Francesca admitted. ‘But not why she was in trouble... I mean, what made her?’

Sarah’s cheeks were warm. ‘There are a few books on anatomy, which might explain how it works. However, making babies happens when a man and a woman make love—and that starts with kissing. There is more, which it would not be appropriate for us to discuss at the moment—but it is the reason your mama would have told you not to let men kiss you, if she were still here.’

‘Mrs Brancaster said something of the sort, but I didn’t understand her. If people are in love, why is it wrong to kiss and make babies?’

‘I dare say it is not wrong. In fact, it is perfectly right and natural—but society and the church say that it must only happen when the man and woman are married. That is why Mrs Brancaster said poor Alice had been let down by a man. He may not have wished to marry her after...afterwards.’

‘Then he was unkind and cruel,’ Francesca said. She frowned. ‘I think I should like to read those books on anatomy, please.’

‘I will find them for you.’ Sarah got up and went to the shelves. She ran her finger along them and took out two, which after looking at the pictures, she judged to be matter-of-fact tomes, which dealt with such matters. She handed them to Francesca. ‘This explains how it happens and the workings of a woman’s—and a man’s—body but not why. If the attraction is there, feelings are aroused...but you should never give in to them before marriage. If you did so, you would lose your reputation and you would never find the kind of husband your family would wish you to have. Also, you would be shamed and many hostesses would not admit you to their drawing rooms.’

‘Yes, I see.’ Francesca put away the books along with with her poetry volumes just as the bell sounded for nuncheon. ‘I should go to my room first. Thank you, Sarah. I’ve learned more this morning than I did in all the time my last governess was here.’

‘But I saw some of the work you did with her. You can write quite well in French, Francesca, as well as being advanced in your Latin verbs.’

‘What good will such things do me in life?’ Francesca asked. ‘Someone told me gentlemen do not like clever girls. I need to know about love and having children.’

Sarah made no reply. The morning had proved more eventful than she’d intended and she was busy with her thoughts as she ran up to her room to wash her hands. Both of her pupils had lively enquiring minds and it seemed they were thirsty for knowledge. She had answered their questions honestly, but she wasn’t sure that her teaching was exactly what their uncle might wish them to learn.

* * *

Nuncheon was a pleasant interlude. No one was particularly hungry and Sarah noticed that Francesca followed her lead and ate mostly fruit, drinking a pleasant cordial and eating some gooseberries that were deliciously ripe and stewed with a rich pastry crust and custard.

After the meal John departed with his mentor to begin his fencing lessons and Francesca took Sarah on a long ramble about the estate, showing her parts of it that she had not yet ventured to alone. As they walked, Sarah explained more of how babies were made and what she knew of love, which was, she admitted, very little.

‘I have felt tempted,’ she said when Francesca pressed for more. ‘But I knew it was wrong. I have been asked to marry, but as I had no feelings for the gentleman I refused. I should not want him to kiss me—or do any of the other things of that I have been told, but have no experience.’

‘I just wanted to know what Alice had done to be sent off like that,’ Francesca said. ‘It doesn’t seem fair that she lost her job, but he—well, she wouldn’t tell anyone who it was.’

‘She was being loyal to him, but I think it a mistake. If he promised her marriage, he should have been made to wed her.’

‘But he might have lost his job, too. Mrs Brancaster said that the maids were not allowed followers.’

‘You can understand why. If they get into trouble, they have to leave and then the housekeeper has to train a new girl.’

‘Yes, I see that—but why not let her stay until she has the baby? Afterwards, she could work part of the time, couldn’t she?’

‘I dare say Mrs Brancaster is doing what she thinks right. You see, Alice had been immoral by her standards—and that is how most people see it.’

‘Do you not think it unfair?’

‘Well, yes, I do. However, one has to live by the rules, Francesca. If it had happened to a girl in my employ, I should have tried to help her—but she would still have had to leave, because of the example it sets to others.’

‘I still think it’s unfair,’ Francesca said. ‘I liked Alice and I cried when she left.’

‘Yes, I can see that it would upset you. I dare say Mrs Brancaster did not like to do it, but she might have lost her own job if she had neglected her duty. Your grandfather would not have wished for a girl like that to continue in his service. It’s the way of the world and we shall not change it.’

‘Women can’t change anything, can they? Men rule our lives. If we have a fortune, our father or guardian controls it until we marry and then our husband takes over and it belongs to him.’

‘Not always...’ Sarah frowned, because her uncle had tried to control her and failed. ‘If a woman has a fortune and is strong enough and clever enough, she may control it herself.’

Francesca was silent, as if absorbing this knowledge.

Sarah hesitated, then, ‘My father was not a poor man, Francesca, and what he had he secured to me in his will. It remains mine even if I marry.’

‘Why do you work as a governess if you have some money of your own?’

‘Because it suits me. I have done other things—but I wanted a change of scenery and...I came here on a whim, but when I met you and John I knew I wanted to stay.’

Sarah took a deep breath as she waited for the girl’s reaction. She had told her as much as she dare and felt better for it. Francesca did not know the whole truth, but Sarah no longer felt so guilty over deceiving her.

Francesca looked at her curiously. ‘You’re not like any governess I’ve had before.’ She tipped her head to one side. ‘Do you have a secret, Sarah?’

‘Yes, there is something—but I would rather you did not tell your uncle, because he might send me away if he knew.’

‘Are you in trouble?’

‘I am hiding from a man who is trying to trap me into marriage. I do not like him, but my family thinks it a good marriage. I came here to avoid him while I consider what I should do.’

Francesca’s gaze narrowed. ‘You’re not truly Hester Goodrum, are you?’

‘My name is Sarah Hardcastle,’ Sarah said. ‘Hester wanted to get married. I gave her a little money and exchanged places with her. Do you think me very dreadful to have deceived you?’

‘No, I think you are amazing.’ Francesca looked thoughtful. ‘Lord Myers would send you packing if he knew—and Grandfather would not be pleased, but I want you to stay. You tell us the truth instead of making up lies to protect us from what we want to know.’

‘I suppose I do have different ideas.’ Sarah looked at her awkwardly. ‘Do you feel compelled to tell your uncle? I know you ought, but if you do I must leave.’

‘It will be our secret,’ Francesca promised. ‘I shall not tell John, because he would be sure to let it out. My uncle may be angry when he discovers the truth.’

‘I have told myself that if I give you a proper education I am doing no harm.’

Francesca laughed. ‘I do not care who you are, Sarah. I do not think you mean us any harm—and I want you to stay. You are my friend.’

‘Yes, I should like to be that,’ Sarah said. She glanced at the little silver watch pinned to her gown. The time was getting on. ‘We’d better return or we shall be late for the games.’

‘Yes.’ Francesca’s eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘I shall enjoy keeping your secret, Sarah—it’s fun.’

Sarah smiled. When Francesca had guessed so much she’d felt compelled to tell her the truth and was glad she need not lie to at least one member of the household—but was she setting a bad example by encouraging her pupil to keep secrets from her uncle?

Perhaps she ought to confess the whole to Lord Myers and leave the decision to him—yet the house was so beautiful and she’d already become fond of her pupils.

Surely she could not harm people she wanted only to help?

They returned to the house, speaking only occasionally. Francesca was deep in thought and Sarah had her own thoughts to keep her busy. Being a governess had seemed such a simple matter, but it was no such thing. Sarah had no training to guide her and she had used

her own instincts, her own experience, to answer Francesca’s natural questions—but had she exceeded her authority? Had she perhaps put ideas into the girl’s head that her grandfather and other ladies might think wrong for a young lady of quality?

Sarah was independent because of her father’s will, which had given her complete control of her fortune and his business empire. Had he willed it so that her uncle had become her guardian she did not think she could have borne her life, for she would have been hedged about by convention and would not have dared to voice her opinions as freely as she did. Was she harming Francesca’s chances by teaching her to be as free in her thoughts?

* * *

The sound of laughter shattered her more serious thoughts. When they came upon Lord Myers, John and two of the footmen playing with an oval-shaped ball on the green, Sarah was intrigued, for she had not seen such a rough game before.

She watched as John caught the ball and then ran off with it, only to be pursued by his uncle, who tackled him and brought him down. John managed to pass the ball to one of the footmen, who took it and ran while the second footman tried to stop him. He was unable to and John gave a shout of joy as he threw himself down at a certain spot and touched the ground with the ball.

‘A try. We scored a try,’ he said. ‘Well done, Jenkins. Well done.’

‘Yes, good show.’ Lord Myers applauded. He turned and saw the ladies, frowning for a moment before turning to John. ‘I think we should play cricket now so that Miss Goodrum and Francesca can join us.’

John agreed and one of the footmen started preparing the wicket. Francesca joined Lord Myers’s side and Sarah joined Jenkins and John. Apparently, Jenkins was as good at the game as at the earlier one and he was elected to bowl at Lord Myers.

Sarah had no idea what game they had been playing when she arrived with Francesca, but knew the game of cricket and was happy to field. She was forced to run after balls that went into the shrubbery several times until she suddenly saw it coming straight at her, put out a hand and caught it.

‘Out. You’re out, Uncle Rupert,’ John crowed. ‘Now it’s Francesca’s turn and then Mason’s. We’ll soon have you out, won’t we, Sarah?’

‘Yes, certainly,’ Sarah agreed with a smile for his enthusiasm.

However, Francesca played well and scored five runs before Jenkins caught her. Mason took his turn and proved to be a clever batsman; it was some minutes before he became too adventurous and was run out for twenty-five.

A tray was brought out by one of the maids then and they all sat on blankets on the grass until John’s team went in to bat. Sarah had enjoyed her glass of barley water and was on her feet again when Lord Myers came over to her.

‘I should like to speak to you in the library before you go up, Miss Goodrum.’ His expression was grim and Sarah’s heart caught. He was angry, she was sure of it and could not for the life of her think what she had done.

Surely he had not discovered her true identity?

Chapter Five

Sarah followed behind the others as they all trooped into the house. The tea ceremony had been dispensed with for the day since they’d all enjoyed cool drinks on the lawn and no one was hungry. Sarah would have liked to escape to her room to tidy herself, but a look from Lord Myers sent her straight to the library. He followed her in and closed the door behind him. One look at his face made her catch her breath.

‘What is this I hear about your lesson this morning, Miss Goodrum? Can it be right that you condoned the behaviour of a maid who was dismissed for immorality—and did you really give Francesca books that described the procreation of children?’

‘We were talking about poetry and Francesca happened to say that a man could let a woman down. I hadn’t realised how innocent she was and I thought it better she should know the truth.’

‘And John—is he old enough to hear it like that?’

‘I did not explain anything in detail and he seemed to know more than Francesca. I gave her books on anatomy, but tried to explain about feelings and the consequences of being carried away by them.’

His gaze narrowed. ‘What kind of books did you deem suitable for a young woman of sixteen?’

‘They have pictures, which show the workings of both the male and female body, and explain about childbirth and...the rest of it.’

‘And you think that suitable reading for a young lady of quality?’

‘It is better she should know than go to her wedding night in ignorance, wouldn’t you say? We talked further on our walk and I was careful to impress on her the consequences of having...intimate relations before one is married.’

‘Good grief!’ Lord Myers seemed stunned for a moment. He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, his grey eyes wintry. ‘I was told you were an unusual governess and you certainly are, Miss Goodrum.’

‘Would you prefer I’d lied? Would you have Francesca ignorant of the facts of life? She will know now precisely why she ought not to give in to the persuasion of rakish men—and what may happen if she does. She will also be more prepared for her wedding night.’

‘You take my breath away.’

Sarah swallowed hard, her hands turned inwards, the palms sweating. ‘Forgive me. I did what I thought was right. I know some ladies might think I was too direct...’

‘A great many men would feel the same. Such revelations would undoubtedly have led to instant dismissal in most households.’

‘I did not intend it to be part of the lesson, it just happened. I realise that convention decrees that these things remain hidden from a young woman—but I think it unfair that girls should marry without the faintest idea of what to expect. In some cases the shock may damage their marriage. Besides, most girls hear it from a servant rather than their mother. John had some garbled version from a stable lad and I thought it best to be open.’

‘Yes, I see that...’ Lord Myers was staring at her. The heat in his eyes seemed to burn her skin. ‘Well, it is over now and perhaps no harm has been done. I would ask you not to indoctrinate your charges with your radical ideas too often, Miss Goodrum.’

‘No, of course not—though I feel Francesca’s mother would have told her the facts of life by now had she lived.’

‘In a rather different way and not in front of her brother, I imagine.’

‘Yes, perhaps that is true. John did not seem surprised or particularly interested. I imagine he’s heard more in the stables than he heard from me.’

‘And that is to be regretted,’ Lord Myers said. ‘The language of the grooms is something most boys learn, but it must be tempered with proper explanation so that he understands what it means to be a gentleman. He must learn where the dividing line comes between taking one’s pleasure and guarding one’s honour and that of a lady.’

‘Yes, of course. It is a good thing that you came here, sir. He very much enjoyed himself this afternoon.’

‘I have decided that in future I shall take over John’s lessons. I do not disagree that Francesca should be prepared for life—and she will be aware of the consequences, as you say—but John needs a firm hand.’

‘I am sorry you feel I have let him down, my lord.’ Sarah’s cheeks were stinging for she felt herself at fault, though in her opinion she’d done nothing to merit such censure.

‘No harm has been done that a few lessons with me cannot put right. We shall continue to have games or other pastimes that we share, Miss Goodrum, but I no longer want John to join you in the mornings.’

‘As you wish, sir.’ Sarah stood stiffly, her hands in front of her. She felt his censure unfair and yet understood his point of view. John did need male guidance and would do better not to gain his knowledge of the world via the stables. ‘May I go now? I should like to write some letters before I change for the evening.’

‘Yes, you may go,’ he said, then, as she walked to the door, ‘Wait a moment, Sarah—I did not wish to censure you. I felt it my duty after what John told me.’

Sarah turned to look back at him. There was no hint of tears in her eyes, though she could feel them inside. ‘You were doing your duty, sir. If I failed in mine, I am sorry.’

She went out and closed the door before he could answer, hearing him curse as she did so. She was feeling subdued as she walked up to her room. Her first day had seemed to go well, but clearly she had made mistakes and aroused Lord Myers’s disapproval—and that hurt. It hurt more than she would have imagined.

What he would think if he knew of her deception she dared not think. No doubt he would believe his opinion of her as some kind of adventuress thoroughly vindicated.

* * *

At dinner that evening Sarah wore her same gown. She had no other evening gown suitable and would not have dared to venture downstairs in it if she had. She had already aroused doubts and suspicions in Lord

Myers’s mind. Next he would be thinking her a courtesan or some such thing. She did her best to seem natural and held her head high, answering any questions that came her way, but keeping her opinions to herself. Even when Lord Myers mentioned the Regent and Francesca asked if it was true that he had been married to Maria Fitzherbert, she refrained from joining the conversation until directly addressed.

‘Well, I think it was very unfair of him if he did,’ Francesca said when Lord Myers merely shrugged and said he didn’t know. ‘What do you think, Sarah?’

‘In any other case I would say it was wrong and that she had a right to be upheld as his wife—but because of the law about royal marriages it may not have been a true one. I do not know the truth of the matter.’

‘If he did not truly marry her, he tricked her into being his mistress.’

‘Francesca.’ Lord Myers glared at Sarah. ‘This is not the right subject for the dinner table. Please refrain from discussing this in mixed company. You may speak to Miss Goodrum in private on the matter if you wish.’

Francesca blushed and Sarah threw Lord Myers an angry glance. He was taking a moral stance that was hardly necessary. Such things were often discussed openly in society, though rarely in mixed company and not before children or innocent girls. He was perhaps thinking of John, for he had decided to mentor him on matters of morality. Now Sarah saw her own fault in being too easy with Francesca and looked down at her plate.

As Francesca would have protested, she reached out to touch her hand. ‘Later, my dear. Lord Myers is right on this occasion.’

He threw a speaking glance at her across the table. Francesca saw it and subsided into silence. She did not speak again until John was sent to bed and they were alone in the drawing room, waiting for Lord Myers to join them.

‘Are you in trouble with Uncle Rupert because of what you told me about love this morning?’

‘Perhaps I should have been more wary—waited to explain until we were alone. John is young and impressionable after all.’

‘Nonsense! He knows far more than I do. We talked about everything when we were alone, but there were things he wouldn’t say. He said it wasn’t fit for a girl’s ears.’

‘Lord Myers is afraid he may have heard things in the stable that may give him the wrong idea about such things. We are to have our lessons alone in future.’

‘That’s so unfair of him. It wasn’t your fault. You are the only person who has ever treated me as a woman—the only one to tell either of us the truth.’

‘A conventional governess would not have done so. She might have given you some information in private—and perhaps it is what I should have done. Well, it is not my decision to bar John from our lessons, but I am sorry if it upsets you. I believe in speaking my mind—but it is not always wise to do so in company, especially at the dinner table.’

‘No, I see that—but it was just us, family...’ Francesca stared at her. ‘Are you crying?’

‘No, of course not.’ Sarah blinked away the wetness that had unaccountably come to her eyes. ‘Do you truly think of me as your family?’

‘You’re the sister I never had.’ Francesca smiled at her. ‘She would have told me the things I needed to know—especially when she was married. It’s silly the way they hide things from unmarried girls, isn’t it? How can we make a sensible choice for a husband if we don’t understand what it means to be married?’

‘Oh, my dear,’ Sarah said and was suddenly amused. ‘You are supposed to enjoy your Season and have fun—and you would normally ask your mama what she felt about the gentleman you liked. She would give you her advice.’

‘Will you be my chaperon when we go to London? Please, Sarah. I would rather it was you than someone I didn’t know.’

‘You hardly know me—though I feel as if I’ve known you always. I doubt if I would be thought suitable. You need someone of more consequence. Besides, I shall have to leave you before then.’

‘You won’t let Uncle Rupert drive you away?’

‘You mustn’t take against him because he corrected you at table, Francesca.’

‘I shall hate him if he sends you away. I’m going to tell Grandfather that I want you as my chaperon when he comes down at Christmas.’

‘We’ll think about that later,’ Sarah said, her throat tight with emotion. Francesca was becoming so special to her and the idea of being her chaperon appealed, but of course it was not possible. Sarah could not enter society as Miss Goodrum and, as Miss Hardcastle, she would not be acceptable to the girl’s guardians. ‘We have lots of time before then. I must teach you so many things—and the first is to think before you speak. Whatever we may discuss in private, and whatever your opinion of a situation or fact, it is sometimes better not to repeat it to others, especially in company.’