Sylvia Andrew – A Very Unusual Governess (страница 5)

When Lady Dorney arrived the next day, Lord Warnham was still having his afternoon nap, so, after greeting her warmly, Octavia took her off to her own little parlour. For a while they exchanged news of the two families, then Lady Dorney said,

‘You’re not looking as you should, Octavia. What’s wrong? Is it this house your mother’s sister has left you? Wychford?’

‘Not you too!’

Lady Dorney raised an eyebrow at the exasperation in Octavia’s voice, and Octavia went on, ‘Papa wishes it had never been left to me. He thinks it too great a responsibility. Don’t tell me you feel the same!’

Lady Dorney laughed. ‘I am not as unworldly as your father, I’m afraid. No, I am glad for you. But if it isn’t that, why are you looking so unlike yourself? You’re obviously under some sort of strain.’

‘I had hoped I wasn’t showing it!’

‘Perhaps not to others. But I know you too well. What exactly is wrong?’

Octavia hesitated. Then she said, ‘You’re right, it is the house. When I first heard about it, it seemed like a way of escape. But I soon realised that I couldn’t possibly take it.’

‘I’m not at all surprised at your wish to escape! The life you lead at Ashcombe is no life for a pretty young girl. You should have married years ago. I’ve never understood why.’

‘That’s soon explained. I never met anyone I wanted to marry!’

‘You’ve never been in love?’

‘Not really.’

‘Never?’

Octavia gave a small smile. ‘When I was younger I thought I was. With a very handsome young soldier, called Tom Payne—tall, blond, blue-eyed, and full of fun. He came down here on leave with my brother in the summer of 1812, and he and Stephen got up to such scrapes that I don’t think I stopped laughing for the whole of that fortnight. I’ve never forgotten it.’

‘That’s hardly my idea of a great romance! Did he make love to you?’

‘Of course not. I was only fourteen! I don’t think it entered his head. But if he had lived…I might have met him again…’

‘He was killed?’

Octavia nodded. ‘At Waterloo. Both of them. He and Stephen together.’ She paused then went on, ‘I got over it, of course. Our acquaintance had been too short for real heartbreak. By the time I went to London for my come-out I was quite my old self. But…I never had an offer there that I wished to accept.’

‘Oh, come now! That is absurd! You can’t have been short of choice! You’re not only a very pretty girl, you are rich and related to half the best families in England. You must have attracted any number of eligible young men!’

‘Perhaps so. But not one of them attracted me!’

‘You were surely not still pining for Tom Payne?’

‘Oh, no! It wasn’t that exactly, but…but he was always my ideal—blond, blue-eyed, and fun. And no one quite measured up to him. Compared with Tom they were so dull! I couldn’t face spending the rest of my life with any one of them. And then London was noisy, and dirty…and full of scandal…’

‘Then your mama died and you left town.’

‘Quite without regret.’

‘And you decided to stay at Ashcombe, to put off even considering marriage until your father could manage without you. I said at the time it was a mistake, if you remember.’

‘But there wasn’t anyone else! Harry couldn’t stay—he was already in the Army—and the rest of the family were married and established elsewhere. Papa would have had to move in order to live with any of them, and you know how he hates change. He even refused to move to Warnham Castle when Grandpapa died.’

‘So your brother Arthur took over the family seat. I must say, the Castle is more Arthur’s style! How is he?’

‘Much the same as ever. Pompous, opinionated and prosy! Sarah is expecting another child, and Arthur is full of hope that she will give him a son at last.’

‘How many daughters has he?’

‘Four.’

‘And no son. His poor wife. She won’t get much sympathy from Arthur if she fails him again. I can quite see why your father wouldn’t wish to live in the Castle with Arthur! But I still don’t see why you had to sacrifice yourself?’

‘I assure you, ma’am, it was no sacrifice—at the time! But now…I feel trapped!’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Sometimes I feel quite desperate!’

‘You need to get away for a while. Could you not visit one of your sisters?’

‘What? To be a nursemaid to their children rather than to my f—’ She stopped short. ‘Rather than manage Ashcombe for my father? Here at least I only answer to him! But…with your help I shall have a brief holiday—all of eleven or twelve hours.’ She got up and walked about the room. After a while she turned and said with an impatient gesture, ‘Oh, pay no attention to me, ma’am! I wasn’t forced into my life here—I chose it. Marriage would not be the way out. From what I have seen of my sisters’ husbands, I would merely exchange one form of boredom for another.’

‘You still haven’t met the right man,’ said Lady Dorney with a smile. ‘He’ll turn up, you’ll see!’

‘That is romantic nonsense! At fourteen I might have believed in fairy tales, but at twenty-two I’ve given them up. No, when I no longer have Papa to look after, I shall turn into a crotchety old maid living at Wychford with a pug and a downtrodden companion, and children will think me a witch, as I did Aunt Carstairs!’

‘She had the air of one, certainly. She had a way of looking at people…I only met her once, but I felt she knew what I was thinking before I did myself! What is this Wychford like?’

‘I’ve never seen it. My aunt never invited any of us there, she was something of a recluse. I shall see it for the first time next Tuesday. I’m so relieved you’ll be here to look after Papa. I know how tedious it can be…’

Lady Dorney looked at Octavia in astonishment. ‘My dear girl, you are quite wrong! I shall look forward to it!’ She laughed at the expression on Octavia’s face. ‘You needn’t look at me like that, Octavia. I am quite serious. I love looking after people, especially someone as sweet-natured and gentle as your Papa.’

‘Really?’

Lady Dorney took Octavia’s hand. ‘Since Dorney died there’s been such a…a hole in my life that I sometimes hardly know what to do with myself. Coming here might seem dull to you, but to me it’s most enjoyable! Indeed, I’d be happy to keep your father company for longer than a day if you wished! Now, tell me how you intend to travel. How far did you say it was to Wychford? And what do you know about these Barracloughs? Might there be a charming young, blond, blue-eyed Mr Barraclough who will “amuse” you?’

Octavia laughed. ‘If only there were, ma’am! But, according to Mr Walters, the Barracloughs are a sober, upright and highly respectable family. And since there are only two daughters, there are absolutely no prospects there for me, I’m afraid. In any case, I shan’t meet any of them—the Barracloughs won’t be there. They’re not due at Wychford for another week at least.’

Meanwhile, some three miles from Wychford, the ‘sober, upright and highly respectable’ Mr Barraclough, grim-faced, got out of his carriage, which was leaning drunkenly to one side, examined the broken wheel-pin and swore fluently and comprehensively. Three heads popped out of the window, one interested, one nervous and the third dressed in a black bonnet, its feathers quivering with outrage.

‘Mr Barraclough! Sir! You forget yourself,’ said the black bonnet severely. ‘Lisette! Philippa! Sit back this minute and put your hands over your ears.’

‘You’d do better to tell them to get out as quickly as they damn well can, Miss Froom,’ said Edward brutally. ‘I cannot promise that the whole lot won’t topple over any moment. Out with the lot of you!’

‘But there’s too much mud on the road!’

‘Better muddy shoes than bruised bottoms! Out with you! You first, Pip!’ Ignoring Miss Froom’s gasp of outrage at his language, he lifted the youngest of the three occupants out and swung her over to the dry verge of the road. ‘Now you, Lisette. Don’t hang back, you’ll be perfectly safe with me.’ Lisette was lifted and deposited next to her sister. ‘Miss Froom?’

‘Thank you, Mr Barraclough, I’ll get out by myself,’ Miss Froom said with dignity.

‘As you choose, ma’am,’ said Edward with ironic amusement. But when Miss Froom landed in the pool of mud and would have slipped he caught her by the waist and bundled her to the side to join the others, where she stood, ramrod straight, bristling with indignation.

He left her there while he went back to examine the damage done to his carriage. Meanwhile, Pip took advantage of the situation to scramble up the nearest tree where she perched on one of the branches. When Lisette looked up and saw her she gave her a very sweet smile, but Miss Froom exclaimed loudly, ‘What on earth do you think you are doing, miss? Get down this instant! Get down, I say! Mr Barraclough, tell that child to get off the tree. Look at her! I must protest—’

‘Protest all you wish, Miss Froom, it won’t do you any good,’ he said impatiently. ‘I have more urgent things to do than listen to you at the moment. If you can’t control the child, then I suggest you leave her up there. She’s perfectly safe.’ Then, turning his back on her he shouted, ‘Jem! Jem! Where the devil are you? How bad is it?’