Page 4 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
The carriage rattled along the country road, jostling Catherine with each bump and rut. She peered out of the window, watching as the familiar landscapes of her life gave way to rolling hills she’d never seen before. The journey to Wessex Manor had already taken more than a day and her body ached from the constant motion. She was used to the city, and quite nervous about starting a new life in the countryside.
“Not much further now, miss,” the driver called over his shoulder, his gruff voice carrying over the clatter of hooves. “We should reach the manor by nightfall.”
Charlotte nodded, grateful for the update and she leaned forward. “Thank you, Mr. Hawkins,” she said, trying her best to make her voice louder. “I am looking forward to stretching my legs properly!”
Mr. Hawkins chuckled. “Aye, long journeys can be a trial. But don’t you worry, miss. The earl’s estate is a sight to behold. It’ll be worth the discomfort, mark my words.”
At this, Catherine finally gave in to her budding curiosity. “What… what can you tell me about the earl himself? I am afraid I know very little about my new employer.”
Mr. Hawkins was quiet for so long that Catherine wondered whether he’d heard her. When at last he spoke, his voice was hesitant. “Well, miss, it’s not my place to gossip about his lordship. But I will say this… he is a fair man, if a bit… reserved. Keeps to himself mostly, these days.”
Catherine frowned slightly at this. The response was far too cryptic. She’d never known servants to refrain from gossiping about their employers. Just as she considered pressing for more information, the carriage hit a particularly large pothole, and she yelped as the motion nearly unseated her.
“Hold on, Miss,” Mr. Hawkins spoke, sounding almost relieved—perhaps, she thought, at the change in topic. “The road gets rough here.”
It was clear, Catherine realized as the day wore on, that Mr. Hawkins was not at all eager to talk about the Earl and she found her thoughts drifting to the life she’d left behind. She wondered how Sophia and Charlotte were faring, and if they’d soon be married. Her chest ached at the thought.
“Mr. Hawkins,” she called out quickly, desperate for a reprieve from her melancholy thoughts. “How long have you been working for the Earl?”
When the old man glanced back at her, a hint of a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Oh, going on twenty years now,miss. I started as a stable boy when his lordship’s father was still alive. Worked my way up, so to speak.”
Catherine leaned forward, intrigued at this. “I suppose you’ve seen a lot of changes over the years.”
Once again, Mr. Hawkins’ shoulders stiffened, but he nodded. “Aye, that I have,” he said quietly. “The old earl… he was a jolly sort. Always had the house full of guests, threw the grandest parties in the county… But with the young Earl, things are… different. Naturally.”
Catherine frowned. “Different how?” she pressed, but Mr. Hawkins shook his head.
“It is not my place to say, miss. You will have to see and make up your own mind about things.”
With this, he turned his head back to the road, and the rest of the journey passed in relative silence, broken only by the occasional warning when they hit a particularly rough patch of road. Despite the whirling questions in the back of her mind, Catherine knew instinctively that Mr. Hawkins had said all he was willing to with regard to the earl and his household.
“Mr. Hawkins,” she tried one last time, her heart racing with nerves. “What is Lady Emily like?”
Mr. Hawkins looked back and for perhaps the first time, his face wore a true smile. “She is a dear,” he said softly, affection evident in his voice. “She is a fair young child with a beautiful heart. You will like her, I am certain of it.”
Catherine sat back, slightly heartened by this. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. “We are approaching the estate now, miss,” Hawkins called out and her eyes flew open again. “You’ll be able to see the manor just around this bend,” the old man explained.
Catherine leaned forward slightly, eager for her first glimpse of her new home. As soon as they rounded the corner she gasped, her eyes widening at the sight before her.
Wessex Manor was more beautiful than any manor she’d ever seen… and yet, as they moved closer, she could not help but notice signs of neglect. Ivy crept unchecked up the walls and several windows appeared to be boarded up.
“Is… is it always like this?” she asked hesitantly, and Mr. Hawkins grunted. “It’s seen better days, I suppose. But don’t you worry, miss. It’s still a fine house—just needs a bit of care, is all.”
Catherine nodded, though as they pulled up to the front entrance, her apprehension grew. The grounds were overgrown and wild with weeds poking through the gravel drive. Mr. Hawkins remained quiet, and the carriage came to a stop. Catherine took a deep breath, her heart racing with anticipationas Mr. Hawkins climbed down from his perch and opened the door for her—offering a hand to help her off.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and she smoothed her skirts. “For the journey and… well, everything.”
Mr. Hawkins nodded and tipped his hat to her, a hint of concern in his weathered face. “Good luck to you, miss,” he said gently. “I hope you’ll be happy here. I just wish…”
He stopped short of finishing his thought and headed back to the carriage. Before Catherine could do as much as move, the heavy oak doors of the manor swung open, and a man emerged. He was tall and lean with short brown hair and a thin mustache. Caroline swallowed nervously when she noticed the deep frown between his brows.
“Miss Winslow, I presume?” he spoke, his voice deep, and Caroline nodded, wiping her hands against her skirt.
“Yes, that’s me,” she said softly. “And… you are?”
“Samuel Harper,” he replied and gave a curt bow. “I manage the household for his lordship. Welcome to Wessex Manor.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mister Harper,” she said, uncomfortable under his scrutiny and resisting the urge to fidget.
