The Poor Governess Read online

  He spoke in a dry voice that did not make it sound exactly a compliment.

  “Miss Wade is going to ride with me, Uncle Ulric,” Georgina said suddenly as if that was where her thoughts had been, “and we are going to race each other. We have taken books from the library to read about horse racing.”

  The Marquis looked surprised.

  “This is certainly a new departure,” he said. “Are you a horsewoman, Miss Wade?”

  “I hope so, my Lord! I have ridden all my life, but again I could hardly compare the mounts I have had up to now with the horses I would expect to find in your stables.”

  “I don’t think you will be disappointed,” he said, “and you believe that racing will improve and broaden Georgina’s mind?”

  “I am sure it will,” Lara answered. “At the same time it will give me an inexpressible delight which I cannot adequately express in words.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  Then he said,

  “You had better take Miss Wade to the Racecourse, Georgina, when you wish to race. Don’t forget that the rabbit holes in the Park can be very treacherous.”

  “I will remember that, Uncle Ulric.”

  “I shall be interested to hear of your progress.”

  Without saying any more, the Marquis turned and walked from the Great Hall leaving Lara and Georgina staring after him.

  The child drew in her breath before she said,

  “You were not frightened of Uncle Ulric, so I was not frightened either and he was nicer than he usually is.”

  “It is always a mistake to be frightened of anyone,” Lara told her.

  At the same time she could not help feeling that she had encountered a typhoon, which had, at the last moment, passed her by without sweeping her off her feet.

  While she went on talking to Georgina, her heart was singing.

  The Marquis had not sent her away from The Priory and she could ride what she was certain would be the most outstanding horses in the country.

  Then she thought it wise, because it was growing late in the morning, not to encounter any members of the house party and so she took Georgina back to the schoolroom where they pored over the books from the library.

  After luncheon, which was brought up from downstairs by two footmen who waited on them and was more delicious than any meal Lara had ever eaten before, Nanny came bustling into the schoolroom to say that Georgina must lie down.

  “We have done lots of things this morning, Nanny,” Georgina said.

  “Then the quicker you go to sleep the better,” Nanny replied.

  Lara was certain that she was jealous because the child had enjoyed herself and she said quickly,

  “Please, tell me for how long she sleeps and if you think it will be all right for me to take a walk in the garden. I don’t wish to do anything that is wrong.”

  Because Lara was asking her assistance, the frown between Nanny’s eyes cleared as she said,

  “No, it’ll be quite all right for you to do that, Miss Wade, but keep away from the lawns directly outside the windows where you can be seen. You have an hour to do what you wish.”

  “Thank you very much,” Lara said. “You are quite certain that there is nothing I can do for you?”

  “No, nothing,” Nanny replied, but it was obvious that she was pleased to have been asked.

  Lara want to her bedroom and picked up the bonnet which belonged to Jane, but then decided as no one was going to see her she need put nothing on her head.

  Unless it was very sunny she never wore a hat or bonnet at home. But she was well aware that ladies behaved with propriety and even if they were only going into their own gardens they covered their heads and wore gloves.

  ‘But I am not a lady,’ she smiled to herself. ‘I am just a Governess and who cares what I do?’

  She had a quick glance at herself in the mirror and realised that once again, although she had tidied it before luncheon, her hair was curling irrepressibly and gave it a quick brush.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ she said to herself, ‘it’s very difficult to look like a prim and proper nondescript Governess when I feel because everything is so exciting that I want to dance over the grass and fly into the sky!’

  Nanny had told her where the garden door was that would lead her into the woods.

  She followed her directions and found herself in the woods that encircled the house, the majority of the trees being great oaks which must have been planted soon after The Priory was built.

  Their branches stretched out protectively and in the soft moss under them were growing primroses, the first flowers of spring.

  It was so lovely that once again Lara stepped into one of her Fairy stories. This time she was picturing the goblins that hid in the trees in the wood and would often play mischievous pranks on the other unsuspecting inhabitants.

  She walked on, climbing a little higher until the house lay below and she could see the stream beyond it and the Park beyond that.

  The rain had left the grass and the leaves damp and bespattered and now, as the sun came out, the raindrops glowed iridescent, each one a tiny rainbow in itself.

  ‘It’s so lovely here! How could anyone who lived here fail to be happy?’ Lara asked.

  Then she remembered the cynical lines on the Marquis’s face and the dry note in his voice and thought that he was not a happy man. He seemed to look on life with a jaundiced eye and find it boring.

  ‘I am sure he is very difficult,’ Lara thought, ‘and I can understand Jane being scared of him.’

  But for herself there was no reason to be afraid, for when Jane returned she would leave and she would never see either the Marquis or The Priory again.

  At the same time it was wonderful copy, although she could not quite decide whether she would make him the hero or the villain of her novel.

  She had planned that her heroine, the little Cinderella Governess, who of course was Jane, would marry the Duke.

  ‘Perhaps he could come to stay in the house,’ Lara thought, ‘and he would perhaps meet her in the corridor and fall in love with her at first sight. Then he would save her from the villain – Lord Magor.’

  ‘I must see his Lordship so that I can describe him exactly,’ she told herself.

  She found a little path running between the trees that obviously led back towards the house and she thought that she should begin to retrace her steps so as to be in the schoolroom waiting for Georgina when she had finished her rest.

  After a while the trees gave way to shrubs of lilac and syringa that were just coming into bud and she was thinking how romantic it would all be in a few days, when she heard voices and stopped still.

  There was the sound of a female voice, high and rather musical, then a man’s.

  They were not very near and Lara could not hear what they said, but she walked a few more steps thinking that if they were guests at The Priory she would be careful to avoid them.

  At the turn of the path she saw in front of her the back of what was obviously a summer house and realised that this was where the voices came from.

  “You are looking very beautiful, Louise,” the man said, his voice deep.

  “Thank you, Freddy, you always say the right thing. At the same time I am feeling particularly melancholy.”

  “I presume you are worried about Ulric.”

  “Of course I am! I was sure I could keep him, but he is slipping away and soon I shall be just another of those women who belong to his – past!”

  The woman’s voice was pathetic, and there was a little pause before the man replied,

  “How can I advise you? I have known Ulric for years and to say that he is unpredictable is, as you know, an understatement.”

  “I love him, Freddy! I love him madly and I was so certain that he would never tire of me as he has of Alice, Gladys and, of course, Charlotte.”

  “You are so lovely, Louise, that I cannot imagine how any man could ever tire of you. In fact I think you are being needlessl
y despondent in thinking that this is what has happened where Ulric is concerned.”

  “I wish I could believe you! I wish I could think that we meant as much to each other today as we did six months ago, but if I am honest with myself I know that this is the last time I shall be invited to stay at The Priory.”

  “Nonsense! Nonsense!”

  Lara realised that she was eavesdropping. Equally she found it fascinating and, while she had no doubt as to whom the lady called Louise was in love with, she longed to know who she was, and who was Freddy, who she was speaking to.

  Then she knew that her mother would think it very reprehensible for her to go on listening to a conversation that was not meant for her ears.

  Moving very carefully in case she should step on a stick and they would realise they were not alone, she slipped away through the shrubs finding her way back to the house the same way she had come.

  As she walked upstairs, she thought that there was no end to the excitements that were all around her.

  It was almost as if Fate had presented her with, as a special present, a conversation she could put straight into her novel word for word.

  As she reached the schoolroom, it was to find that Georgina was up and dressed.

  “Where have you been?” she asked. “I wanted you.”

  “I am sorry,” Lara replied. “I went for a walk in the wood and it took longer than I expected.”

  “I hate walking!” Georgina pouted. “Miss Cooper used to make me walk when I wanted to ride.”

  “I’m not allowing you to ride, so there’s no use whining about it!” Nanny said. “At the same time a breath of fresh air would do you good.”

  She picked up a light summer coat that was lying on the sofa.

  “I have an idea,” Lara said, “Nanny is quite right in saying you must not ride when you are tired, but I feel sure that you would like to show me Snowball and we could go and look at him in the stables. There would be no harm in that, would there, Nanny?”

  Because her approval had been asked, Nanny was prepared to be conciliatory.

  “No, but don’t stay out too long,” she answered.

  “We will not do that,” Lara promised, “and I will just go and fetch my bonnet.”

  She went quickly to her bedroom and, as she opened a drawer to take out her gloves, she saw her notebooks lying there.

  ‘I must remember every word,’ she determined.

  Then she and Georgina went down the stairs that led out of the back of The Priory towards the stables.

  “I have slept today,” Georgina pointed out, “and it would not tire me to ride this afternoon.”

  “You will ride first thing tomorrow morning,” Lara replied, “and I want you to choose which horse you think that I should ride.”

  This gave the child a new interest and she forgot for the moment that she had not been permitted to ride today.

  The stables were just as marvellous as Lara had expected them to be and the horses even more magnificent.

  She went from stall to stall, running out of adjectives to praise them with and delighted the Head Groom by her appreciation of everything he showed her.

  She had no idea how lovely she looked with the flush on her cheeks and her eyes shining, her red hair glinting from under the small straw bonnet.

  “How could anybody be so lucky as to own such finely bred horses?” she asked with a rapt note in her voice that the Head Groom did not miss.

  “’Is Lordship be a very fine judge of ’orseflesh, miss,” he replied. “I’ll show you the stallion ’e bought last month at Tattersalls. It be one of the best thoroughbreds we’ve ever ’ad in the stables.”

  The stallion was, Lara thought, the double of the one that in her imagination had carried her over the fields at home.

  She therefore could not help herself asking,

  “Do you think – would it be possible for – me to ride him?”

  The Head Groom looked doubtful.

  “I’d ’ave to ask ’is Lordship about that.”

  “Yes, of course, and I am sure he would not trust me with a new acquisition which must be very precious to him.”

  “Most of the young ladies as rides ’ere,” the Head Groom answered, “don’t very often call at the stables and when they does they’re afraid of anythin’ as pulls or is too spirited.”

  “But that is what I like and have always longed for,” Lara said. “So please choose me a spirited horse that I can ride tomorrow morning.”

  The Head Groom laughed and, although she could not ride Black Knight, as the stallion was called, he showed her a horse called Glorious, which, she agreed, was a very adequate substitute.

  When they went back to the house after she had seen Snowball and understood why Georgina loved him, she said,

  “I wonder if you realise how lucky you are? When I was young I had just a donkey to ride until he died. Then I shared a horse with my mother which, when he grew old, we could not afford to replace him.”

  “Were you very poor?” Georgina asked interestedly.

  “Yes, very,” Lara answered.

  The child was silent for a moment.

  Then she said,

  “It does not seem fair, does it, that Uncle Ulric should have dozens of horses and, although you love them just as much as he does, you don’t own one.”

  “I would like to be as lucky as that,” Lara agreed, “but we all have compensations of some sort. I mean, although I cannot own horses, I have something that your uncle does not have.”

  “What is that?” Georgina asked curiously.

  “I think you would call it ‘imagination’,” Lara replied, following the train of her thoughts. “When I cannot have something like that stallion, I imagine it and in that way he belongs to me and nobody can take him away from me.”

  Georgina clapped her hands.

  “That is a lovely idea! Let’s imagine all the things we can have that Nanny cannot say are too much for me or that Uncle Ulric can refuse to buy me.”

  “Now you start,” Lara suggested. “What do you want?”

  There was a pause.

  Then Georgina said,

  “I would like to have a band all to myself, because when they come to play at the parties Nanny always takes me away to bed and I am not allowed to listen to them.”

  “So you like music, Georgina?”

  “Sometimes I hear it in my head.”

  “Now I think of it,” Lara remarked, “you have no piano in the schoolroom.”

  She thought as she spoke that it was strange because she always imagined that every child like herself would be taught music.

  “We had one once, a long time ago,” Georgina replied, “but Nanny said that the noise gave her a headache, and the Governess who was with me then would only let me play scales, which I was awfully bored with.”

  There was something in the way she spoke about music with a touch of enthusiasm in her voice that was the same as when she spoke about riding.

  “There must be a piano somewhere in the house,” Lara queried.

  “There is one in the music room,” Georgina replied, “but Miss Cooper would never go down there.”

  Lara remembered that Jane with all her intelligence had never been musical. In fact she doubted if she could play the piano at all.

  They went in through a side door, but instead of going straight upstairs Lara asked,

  “Will you show me the music room? There is not likely to be anybody about at this time of the day.”

  “Would you really like to see it?” Georgina enquired.

  “Very much!” Lara answered.

  The child led her down into the same corridor where the library was situated, but now they went along towards the West wing of the house and Georgina opened the door of what Lara thought must be the most perfect music room.

  It had obviously been added much later to the original Monastery and it was oval in shape with pillars at both ends. A magnificent Broadwood piano stood in a c
entre alcove on a raised dais.

  Lara drew in her breath.

  The very old upright piano at the Vicarage was always going out of tune and the ivory keys were yellow with age.

  She walked towards the Broadwood, opened the lid and sat down on the piano stool.

  “Are you going to play something?” Georgina asked in a rapt little voice.

  “Listen to this,” Lara replied, “then tell me what sort of music you like.”

  She played first part of a Sonata by Chopin, then without stopping followed it with a Strauss waltz.

  She realised as she played that Georgina was watching her, listening with an almost ecstatic expression on her face.

  ‘The child is musical!’ Lara thought to herself.

  She decided that this must be the key to Georgina’s indifference to everything around her and her lack of interest in any of her lessons.

  She had learnt from her reading that real musicians were often moody and melancholy when they were children and seemed detached from their surroundings simply because they could not be fed mentally with the music that their whole character and personality craved.

  As she finished playing, she rose from the piano stool and suggested,

  “Now you try.”

  Georgina looked at her in surprise.

  “I cannot play like you. Play something else.”

  “No,” Lara said. “I want you to show me what you can do.”

  “I have only learnt scales.”

  “Never mind. Remember what I have just played to you and see if you can play the tune with one finger.”

  For a moment Georgina sat staring blankly at the keyboard.

  Then, as if her small hands were drawn irresistibly towards the notes, she touched them gently, one by one, until as Lara held her breath she began to pick out note by note what she could hear in her mind.

  Then she looked up at Lara with a smile on her face.

  “I can do it!”

  “Of course you can,” Lara answered. “And now, Georgina, we are going to have music lessons every day as long as I am here.”

  The child stared at her as if she could not believe what she had heard.

  Then she asked,