Page 4 of The Defiant Governess
It was Nanna, too, with whom she and Thomas had shared the intimate moments of growing up.The magic of a perfectly formed robin’s egg, the tears at being too young to go to Town with Papa, the wonder of a first fleeting kiss.
Though Nanna had retired to her own snug cottage on the estate the previous year, declaring that her little ones were truly grown up and didn’t need her anymore, Jane rode over frequently to visit when she was at home. Settling at Nanna’s knee while she knitted, just like in days gone by, Jane would regale her beloved old nurse with the latest gossip from London as well as confessing her and Thomas’s latest escapades. Nanna would chuckle and scold, Jane would look contrite and they both would laugh and take comfort in the familiar warmth of each other’s presence.
On reaching the cottage, Jane burst through the door with a sob and without a word Nanna gathered her to her ample breast.
“Come, come,” she soothed, patting Jane’s disheveled hair into some semblance of order. “It’s not like you to be such a watering pot. Dry your eyes while I fix some tea and then you’ll tell me all about it.”
She disengaged Jane’s arms and handed her a linen hanky. “Now let me guess,” she called as she put a kettle on the stove. “Lord Edgarton has proved a sad disappointment because the poem he’s sent is not up to snuff with Lord Byron’s work. Or is it that Baron Haverill has refused to let you drive his matched grays, even though you are an infinitely better whip than he is?”
Jane couldn’t help smiling in spite of her quivering lower lip. “Oh, Nanna, do you, too, think I’m such a frivolous featherhead?”
“I’m quizzing you, love, as well you know. Now come sit down and tell your old Nanna what’s wrong.”
On finishing her halting explanation,Jane hugged her cup close to her chest as if she needed its warmth. “So you see,” she added, “I am in an impossible situation!”
Nanna shook her head. “Your aunt has always been a meddlesome woman, and always sparking no good. But I have been fearing your father would do something like this for some time now. I know he has been ill at ease about you.” A sigh. “He’s long worried that he hasn’t provided you with the proper upbringing for a lady—ithasbeen rather unconventional, you know—and he’s quite concerned about making a good match for you. And you haven’t helped allay his concerns, Missy, with your behavior.”
“But I refuse to be treated like … a prize mare, my merits and faults discussed by prospective buyers, and then given to the highest bidder,” replied Jane. “I won’t!” She drew a ragged breath. “I won’t have my freedom taken away.”
Nanna recognized the mulish tone in her former charge’s voice and shot her a reproving look.
Jane bit her lip. “I’m sorry to sound like a fishwife, but when Thomas engages in pranks he is called high-spirited. When do the same I am called shameful. It’s not fair!”
“No, it isn’t. It never has been,” answered Nanna softly. “You know that well enough and it’s something you must learn to accept.”
“Must I?” asked Jane desperately. “You, too, think I should accede to my father’s demands and spend the rest of my life witha husband for whom I care nothing, a man who may order my entire existence exactly how he wishes?”
“Now, now.” Nanna stroked Jane’s hair. “I didn’t say that. I just mean that it is time you admit that in your station in life you have limited options if you don’t marry. You may remain on the shelf and care for your father in his dotage or become a doting spinster aunt to Thomas’s future brood, hanging in his pocket and always making his wife feel a bit out of sorts with you—a life I assure you would not suit!
“Those are not the only options. I shall have an independent income when I come of age, I could set up my own house with a woman companion—you, Nanna! We could have our own establishment and do as we please.”
Nanna shook her head. “Do you really think that would suit you either? No, you must marry. Certainly not the Duke of Branwell if you don’t wish it. But perhaps there is another young lord with whom you feel some rapport. I’m sure your father would relent if you promised him you would settle down and apply yourself seriously to seeking a man with whom you could be happy.”
“So instead of having my father sell me off, you would have me sell myself?” interrupted Jane bitterly. She tried to picture a face among the scores of eligible men who had ever shown a spark of true humor or hint of understanding when she voiced a heartfelt opinion.
Her mind’s eye remained blank. “If these are the rules of my class, I wish them to the Devil! Ineverwish to marry! Would that I could change places with Mary Langley. No one bothers to try to force a farmer’s daughter to marry against her will.”
Nanna shook her head sadly. “My dear, I love you as I would a daughter and my heart goes out to you. However, you are no longer a child but an adult, and must grow up and accept the responsibility of your station. Your life has changed.” She notedthe stubborn tilt of Jane’s jaw, a look so familiar that she nearly smiled in spite of herself.
“But you always encouraged me to think that a woman had as keen a mind as a man,” protested Jane. “Why should I submit myself to the … tyranny of marriage?Younever did!”
A cloud passed over Nanna’s face. “That is true, my dear. But don’t think I haven’t missed things in life for it.” She paused. “And don’t think that your friend Mary has such a sweet life of it. Yes, she and Martin are in love and will be married. But until he found a position at Deerfield Manor, he had no prospects and she was forced to look for a position, which as you know I helped her find. A good one, too, for it was as a governess to one small boy, the ward of a marquess who lives out of the country. I had heard through my sister, whose dear friend—well, it doesn’t signify. But mind you, she was going to work!
“And control her own destiny,” interrupted Jane.
“Hardly,” said Nanna sternly. “It’s not such a fine life to work for an employer, my dear, though you shall never know it.”
“Better than being leg-shackled,” retorted Jane. “At least can give an employer notice.
“In any case, it is of no consequence for Mary any longer,” soothed Nanna. “Martin has just been promoted to upper footman at Lord Harbaugh’s estate and so they will wed in three week’s time. I’m sure she means to tell you herself tomorrow. She just stopped by here to give me the news, and ask me to write her regrets that she is no longer able to take the position.” Nanna motioned to a folded paper on her side table. “I have the letter right here. Would you be a dear and have your father frank it for me? I don’t plan to walk into the village for another few days.”
Jane slipped the letter into the pocket of her riding habit. “Of course.”
Nanna gave her an affectionate hug. “Now, it’s time for you to be off home or you’ll be late for supper.” She gave a parting pat to Jane’s cheek. “Think about what I have said.”
Jane spurredher horse into an easy canter. Her initial shock and despair had given way to an unyielding resolve. Just as everyone else was set on making her change, she was determined to do things on her own terms. No one would bridle her spirit!No one!Just how to proceed wasn’t yet clear, but just the mere fact that she had made such a decision buoyed her spirits.
She urged Midnight to greater speed, reveling in the feel of the wind in her hair and the raw energy of her mount. As she bent close over his mane something jabbed her side and she remembered the letter in her pocket. Tugging at the reins, she slowed to a walk and took out the cream-colored missive. Written in large letters was the address—Mrs. R. Fairchild, Highwood,———shire. After a moment’s hesitation she broke the seal and unfolded the sheet of paper:
