Page 8 of Her Beautiful Bastard
“Ashton,” Lydia supplied. “And yes, Amelia is my sister-in-law. She wed my eldest brother some time ago.”
Five years, she recalled suddenly. Michael and Amelia had been wed for five years—since just before her first Season.
“Ah, yes,” Lady Clayton replied with a weak smile. “Such a lovely lady, your sister-in-law. We are not well-acquainted, but I always found her to be a singularly charming sort of person.”
Thinking of the woman who had stolen her brother’s heart while wearing breeches and acting without propriety, she could not help a little chuckle. “That she is, my lady.”
Sitting up a bit straighter, Lady Clayton took another sip of tea. “Mrs. Eggleston says you have served three families before arriving here in Hertfordshire, and that you are well-educated.”
“Yes, my lady,” she confirmed. “I am qualified to instruct your children in Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic, as well as Art, History, Geography, and the French language. I regret to inform you that I am only passable at best on the pianoforte, but do command a bit of talent with watercolors and charcoal.”
Lady Clayton nodded. “That will do, I am certain. There is only one child here; my son, Henry, and he is four years of age. So, instruction in the pianoforte will be unnecessary.”
Lydia stifled a sigh of relief to know she would not need to teach anyone anything related to music. Her brother often teased her over her horrible playing and wobbly singing voice. She’d been born practically tone deaf, and had long come to terms with that fact.
“I think you will find Henry to be an exceptionally bright child,” Lady Clayton said, a bit of warmth creeping into her voice at the mention of her son. “At this age, he’s become a bit much for his poor nurse to handle on her own, so his father and I believe he is ready for a bit more structure.”
“Yes, he is at the perfect age for instruction,” Lydia agreed. “And it is my belief that a child’s lessons should be tailored to his own abilities rather than how many years he is. Henry, being a bright boy, might take well to lessons other governesses are teaching to children six or seven years of age.”
A soft smirk curved the corner of the woman’s mouth, and Lydia could not tell if Lady Clayton were pleased or amused.
“Well said, Miss Darling. I believe Henry will like you. Mr. Clayton will be pleased with you, as well, though you should not expect to interact with him much, as he is hardly ever in residence.”
Lydia experienced a niggling of pity for the woman, whose husband ought to be on hand when she was obviously so ill. It was no wonder she needed the help of a governess. She hardly seemed strong enough to aid the nurse in keeping the child occupied.
“I do believe I would enjoy serving your family, my lady,” she said honestly. “Little boys are my favorite pupils, if I may be honest. While some governesses find them challenging, I enjoy their natural precociousness.”
Lady Clayton raised her eyebrows. “You sound like a woman who was raised with many men underfoot.”
Lydia laughed. “Two elder brothers. How did you know?”
The woman giggled, but the sound was scratchy from her coughing fit. “Your forbearance for the male sex. You will need it when it comes to Henry. A sweet boy, but a bit of a trickster. He’s chased off two governesses already with harmless pranks.”
Her lips quivered as she held back another laugh. “My eldest brother, Michael, delights in tormenting me, even after he has grown old enough to have outgrown such things. It delights me to torment him right back.”
Lady Clayton smiled again, setting her cup and saucer aside. “It would seem you are the perfect woman for the job. Consider yourself hired, Miss Darling.”
Despite having already been assured by Mr. Welby that the job was all but hers, relief flooded her in a rush. Lady Clayton had been intimidating at first, but she supposed she ought to have trusted the steward’s word.
“Thank you, Lady Clayton,” she said, the tension in her spine melting a bit. “I appreciate your confidence in me. I am certain Henry and I will get on well together.”
Lady Clayton nodded her agreement. “Quite so. I would like you to begin as soon as possible. We can send for your things today, and have you settled into your living quarters this evening, if that suits you.”
If she were any happier, she might weep. “Thank you, my lady. That would be fine.”
It was more than fine … it was perfect. As she rose to her feet, Lady Clayton sat up a bit straighter, though did not attempt to stand.
“Please see Mr. Welby on your way out,” the lady said. “He will ensure you are settled in and ready to begin tomorrow morning. He will also introduce you to Henry.”
She executed a swift curtsy. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, again.”
Lydia turned to quit the room, a wide smile stretching across her face. Her fears over how she would get on for the next few years eased, the knot in her belly loosening. It was true that she might only be here until Henry grew too old for a governess, and with no other Clayton children in sight, she might then be let go. Still, it was better than returning home and admitting defeat. Besides, she could always hope that one of Mr. Clayton’s sporadic visits home produced another child.
Thinking of the poor woman upstairs, she cringed. Perhaps not.
Whatever the case, Lydia looked forward to even a few years of peace and stability. It was not the life of grand passion or romance she’d once wanted for herself, but those had been the dreams of a young, inexperienced girl. This was her reality, and while her family might insist she deserved more, Lydia would be content.
She would be content, and leave her dreams where they belonged—deep in the corners of her mind.
