Page 2 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
As she continued to work, a sweet hymn started in her chest and for the first time that she could recall, Rose began to hum a tune. Her mood lifting with the notes of the music, enveloped in the warmth of what was to come.
In mere days, Philip will be home, never to leave again. We will finally begin the family of which we have always dreamed.
A bolt of joy sent shivers through her body as her mind wandered, imaging the pitter-patter of small footfalls filling her ears. They had only been wed a year before Philip had been summoned to war and Rose had clung to the hope that she would greet him with the face of their child in her arms upon his deployment.
None of that is of consequence now,she thought with contentment.How difficult would it have been to raise a babe without his father? It is a blessing I was not lying-in with child when he left.
The needle jabbed into her forefinger suddenly and Rose yelped as a prick of blood pooled on the tip. Raising her hand from the jacket she had been so meticulously altering, she stood, hurrying toward outside to the rain deposits.
As she leaned over a bucket, splashing the sun-heated water over her hand, a dark cloud suddenly overtook the bright sunshine, casting an ominous shadow over everything in her path.
Inexplicably, a sensation of dread swept through her slender form, and Rose straightened her body to turn and stare at the sky behind her. The light of the day had vanished, a humidity filling the air with the smell of ozone.
It is only rain,she chided herself gently.Nothing more.
Yet Rose could not tear her vivid blue eyes from the heavens, as if they were forewarning her of troubles to come. She started as a sharp bleat shattered her reverie. At her side, Dora, the goat eyed her reproachfully.
“Into the barn with you,” she told the animal who made no move to obey.
She continued to eye the mistress of the house with disdain until Rose was forced to tap the animal’s grey rump and send her trampling off toward the red-painted structure.
“Mind the garden!” she called but of course her words were futile and Dora danced through her carefully tended patch with devious relish.
Rose had to chuckle, her momentary sense of unease forgotten. Fat droplets of rain began to splat against the land and Rose stood for a long moment, savoring the feel of the cool against her skin.
She had been so absorbed with her homecoming project, she had failed to notice how hot it had grown within the house.
Rain is welcomed. It washes away the old and renews. It is fitting for what is to come.
Their part of the country was not particularly overcome with inclement weather, but the Boyles oft complained about the frequent washings, the weather affecting their aging bones.
I must check on them and see if they require anything, lest we have a storm incoming.
Her neighbors had always been kind but none more so than in Philip’s absence. Not a day passed without a call from John or Bridget, and Rose had come to see them as the parents she never had.
For their part, they had no children of their own, their only son lost at sea during a fishing expedition in Ireland.
Imagine, finding a family at my age,Rose oft mused but she did not feel any less blessed by the realization.
All her life, growing up among the orphans in Chelmsford, she had yearned for a family of her own, people to love her and nurture her the way she had read about in books. Rose knew very little about her own parents, having been abandoned on the doorstep of a church at the age of one but it had been ingrained into her straw-blonde head from a terribly young age that she was among the most fortunate of girls in her position.
Unlike some of her peers who had been shipped to the colonies or into overcrowded and disease-ridden orphanages, Rose had been brought to an educational institution. It lacked the merits described to the public, the sanitation deplorable, and the nurses dreadful, but Rose was at least afforded the opportunity to read and write.
Moreover, Chelmsford is where Philip found her while on leave in the navy and her life truly began.
Now I have a husband who loves me madly and caring neighbors whom I consider as close to me as any kin I could imagine.
She whirled, her long, thin skirt swirling about her ankles as she hurried through the suddenly driving rain. The chickens scattered as she moved as if abruptly realizing that the sky was falling upon them, squawking in confusion.
Rose made her way to the wooden gate, blinking against the rain as a rumble of thunder filled her ears. A flash of lightning lit the puddling path leading toward the Boyle’s land. The darkness had fallen quickly and without mercy and Rose fleetingly considered turning back to wait for the rain to still some before venturing out again.
No,she decided, vainly attempting to wrest the wet strands of hair from her face.They have done so much for me. It is but a bit of rain. It will not take a minute to call upon them.
Her visibility was not good but Rose would have known her way to the Boyle’s modest property if she had been without sight. Seeing the shape of their clapboard home in the near distance, Rose gathered her sodden dress and began to sprint the remaining steps toward the entranceway.
They are going to send me on my way, dripping like this,she chuckled, amused by the idea.I would not fault them in the least.
As she turned up the path leading to the house, a faint sound caught her attention.
