Falling for the Governess Read online

  Isabella wasn’t sure she had ever seen Mr. Jenkins so uncomfortable, even when he had informed her of her father’s passing.

  “As the benefactor of your father’s estate, Mr. Smith here has decided to sell all assets in order to pay off the debts incurred, including Rosewater house and everything in it.”

  “But that is my home!” Isabella said with a raised voice. “Where am I to live?”

  Isabella could not bear to take her eyes off Mr. Jenkins to turn to the scoundrel behind her. Most certainly he was enjoying the destitute situation he had put her in.

  “I have spoken of this very concern with Mr. Smith at length,” Mr. Jenkins replied, obviously understanding her fear. “He feels, as sole proprietor, he is, and I rightly agree, responsible for your safety and security.”

  Isabella stood up from her spot, forgetting all dignity, “I won’t marry him!”

  Mr. Jenkins looked at her apologetically, whether from the necessity of marriage between a senior man and a young lady of one and twenty years or other less favorable options she wasn’t sure.

  “Though I suggested such an arrangement, for the sake of your comfort, I was informed that such arrangements were no longer…no longer…” he hesitated to try to find the words, “no longer a possibility unless…” Mr. Jenkins gave a horribly painful sigh. “He would like you to ask him to take you in.”

  “Absolutely not,” Isabella stated still standing, trembling with fear and embarrassment.

  She could hear a tisk of disgust behind her but refused to turn to look at him.

  “Before you speak Miss Isabella, I encourage you to consider your situation. Mr. Smith does intend to sell all valuable possessions. Even so, it will just barely cover your father's debts. Without such an arrangement I cannot imagine how you will see to your comfortable lifestyle.

  “Then I shan't live as I have thus far. I am not above being more frugal with my life. Am I not allowed some sort of income from my father’s business?”

  “I did discuss such matters with Mr. Smith in the event that you did not want to…um…abide to his requirements. He agreed a yearly income was only fair since, after all, he was named your protector. The sum he agreed on was…well…it was fifty pounds a year.”

  “Fifty pounds a year?” Isabella now turned to face Mr. Smith.

  "It is half his yearly wage, though you wouldn't know it by the way he lived, and is quite generous considering I will most likely need to take on another partner," Mr. Smith spit back indignantly.

  He had quite the smug look on his face as he rocked back and forth on his heels, hands pleasantly clasped in front of him. What was torturous to say for the lawyer, and unbelievable to hear for Isabella, was quite enjoyable for this horrible man.

  He had positively backed her into a corner. With such a small amount, there was no possible way for Isabella to live alone. It wouldn't even support a house staff of just one or two servants. He had meant it to force her to beg before him for that which she had denied him all those years ago.

  “Good heavens, Izzy, what did you do?” Louisa asked as she listened, horrified and enraptured by the retelling.

  “Well, I refused to give in to his boorish demands. I told him I would find a way to settle on such low income and that was the end of that. I will starve to death before I give that man the benefit of seeing me grovel at his feet.

  “But Izzy- without a home or any possessions of your own, how will you do it?”

  “Well, after I announced I would not give in to the wretched blackguard, Mr. Smith stormed out of the room, slamming the door quite loudly behind him. Mr. Jenkins, the poor man, began apologizing profusely, saying that if there were anything he could do to help me, he would.”

  “Well, what is there to be done, Izzy?”

  “I thought on this fact for the better part of last night. I have come to one conclusion. I will need to find myself some sort of employment.”

  “Certainly not?” Louisa asked with surprise, though Isabella could already see the wheels turning in her head that this was the likely alternative.

  “I think we both know that this is how it must be,” Isabella said with a defeated tone.

  “It is either that or giving in to Mr. Smith. My pride, however sinful to keep, will not allow such a thing. I will not be offended at all if at such a declaration you find yourself unable to keep my company.”

  “Absolutely not!” Louisa said using a firm tone.

  “You are my dearest friend. You were the only one who cared to spend time with me when we were together at school. I would never abandon you, no matter the cost.”

  “Not even if I am a lowly scullery maid?” Isabella asked, tears welling in her eyes.

  In all honesty, she had spent the whole of her night not just thinking about a life of employment but terrified of the fact that she had no idea what employable skills she had.

  Though she may have been born on the lower side of the peerage, her father had never spared her a comfort, and she feared she could not even dress on her own, let alone take on tasks.

  “You will be no such thing,” Louisa said firmly. She placed her own small, delicate hands in Isabella's lap and began to ponder.

  “I understand now why you have come to me. We will most certainly find something that would be suitable for your position.”

  “But I don’t have a position; I am free of status now and completely destitute, without any skills at hand.”

  “Of course you have skills,” Louisa encouraged. “Why, you were always one of the top performers in our school! Do you not remember? Mrs. Mason would have you stand and recite your French lessons before prospective students. Why, that is it!” Louisa said with the light of a plan. “You could easily find employment as a governess.”

  Isabella thought this new idea over for a bit. She unquestionably had loved school and took to it quickly.

  She was accomplished enough in her educational knowledge as well as music and other various genteel talents. She could certainly teach such things to young lords and ladies.

  Of course, it was a definite step down from being one of the peerages to serving and educating them. It was not as low as the serving class but somewhere in between.

  Between her employment and her small allowance, Isabella would most certainly be able to manage on her own.

  “Do you think I would be hired as such? Mr. Jenkins did offer to help me find employment when I found myself in need of it.”

  “Of course. I am quite sure that Mrs. Mason would also be happy to give you a shining reference. You could most likely find a home here in London to instruct pupils at and we could still be close friends.”

  “Oh, my dear Louisa, I fear wishing so much good fortune to happen at this time in my life is much like wishing to catch a star. I will be quite satisfied with any position and your continued friendship, even if through correspondence only.”

  “Have faith, Izzy,” Louisa said, reaching across the small table of tea and taking Isabella’s hands.

  “We will find a way to overcome this hurdle together. Certainly, it isn’t something to worry about now. The Season is almost upon us. Mr. Smith certainly won't put you out till after. It will give you an opportunity to more earnestly search a match and perhaps escape all the necessity for such talk.”

  “I hope you’re right, Louisa,” Isabella responded, giving her a grateful squeeze of the hand in return.

  “I was frightened by his rage upon my declaration not to heed his request. I am almost certain he will do everything in his power to hinder my progress at every turn.”

  Chapter 2

  The following week, Isabella made her way back to Mr. Jenkins’s office after receiving a note that he had found a suitable position for her. She had been reassured by Louisa that she would have at least the season to see if she could come up with a better course of action before settling on being a governess.

  It was not to be the case.

  Sadly, no more than a week aft
er finding out about her father's untimely death, Mr. Smith had visited Rosewater house. There he had informed Miss Isabella that she would have a month only to collect items and vacate her home.

  He then proceeded to boldly go through the house, solicitor in tow, informing her of what things he planned to sell.

  Isabella hadn’t informed the servants yet of the impending liquidation of her father’s estates. Mr. Smith even went boldly into Isabella’s own room and rifled through her belongings. Mr. Smith announced he would be procuring all her belongings including dresses and jewelry.

  The solicitor, embarrassed, hastily suggested that such tactics were not necessary to the closing of the amount owed.

  Mr. Smith reluctantly allowed Isabella to keep her clothing but still required all jewelry be turned over to him for selling. She didn’t have much in the way of fancy jewelry.

  Therefore, she didn’t care much for giving it up if it meant not allowing Mr. Smith the satisfaction of seeing her beg him for marriage.

  Her hardest items to part with were the silver comb her father had stated her mother wore on their wedding day, the small gold band that was her mother's wedding ring, and a silver chain with a locket of her mother's hair which she wore around her neck always. It had been a gift from her father on her sixteenth birthday.

  Having never met her mother, for she had passed in childbirth, any stories or items her father shared with her were cherished.

  After taking all belongings worth selling on the spot, including the ring and comb, and informing Isabella that they would be back in a month, for the third time, to take possession of the house, Mr. Smith set his evil eyes on the locket around her neck.

  Isabella defiantly clasped her hand around it. This was one thing Isabella would not allow to be taken from her.

  Would Mr. Smith really stoop to such a level of evil?

  Luckily the solicitor interjected, “I believe we should allow Miss Watts to collect herself. I am sure it has been a very tiring day for her. We can always come back to collect any other items upon the sale of the establishment.”

  Mr. Smith had reluctantly agreed and left. Not a minute after the front door shut on the two men, Isabella crumpled to the hall floor in a heap of sorrowful tears.

  Her kind maid, who must have also been beside herself to learn that she would be without a situation in a month’s time, helped Isabella up to her room to lay down.

  It was clear that she would not have time to find a better end to her situation. The next day, Isabella inquired of Mrs. Mason for a letter of character reference and delivered it to Mr. Jenkins that same day.

  She wrung her hands for the next week, waiting for word from Mr. Jenkins. She had no idea if anyone would ever accept a governess at her age without any prior employment references.

  Mr. Jenkins had assured her that he would do everything in his power to see her well settled. She had felt so blessed to have such a willing friend to help her in her time of need.

  The time had come when a letter arrived stating that Mr. Jenkins had found her a station of employment. She made it to his office the following day in haste.

  Isabella was dreading and desperate to know what establishment she would be employed at for the remainder of her days.

  Would she find herself teaching in a girls’ establishment just as she, herself, had attended? Or would some member of her peerage take pity on her and take her on for the benefit of his children's private education.

  She sat nervously across from Mr. Jenkins.

  “I must confess I had a harder time finding a situation for you than expected. You see, most of the lady schools in London were well staffed. Mrs. Mason did express in her letter, had she the room, she would have happily taken you on.”

  It was something that Isabella had expected. There were often more ladies seeking employment than available opportunities for suitable work.

  A part of her wanted to feel slightly shocked or betrayed that not one of those in her acquaintance here in London had tried to take her on for employment. She was no longer a member of that society, however, and would not be seen as someone to have around.

  “I am sorry to say that the situation I found for you is far outside of London. I know you had expected to stay in the area, and I did my very best to do so but…” he trailed off.

  “It is quite alright. I know you did your very best, Mr. Jenkins, and I am very appreciative of all your efforts. I am sure that no matter the location, I will find my situation quite adequate.”

  “I am glad to hear your brave words. The position is for the Duke of Wintercrest. He has taken on a small ward over the last year, a young woman I believe, and is seeking a governess for her. He specifically asked for a lady of London breeding to prepare her for society, as well as provide her with a strong understanding of the French language.”

  Isabella, of course, knew of the Duke and Duchess of Wintercrest, though she had never had the honor of making their acquaintance. She was aware that they were relatively older in age with children of their own, and therefore questioned who this young ward might be. Perhaps a relation they willingly took on.

  “It seems that it might be an ideal position for me.”

  “Just as I thought when I was told of it. The Duke is also willing to give a much more significant pay than often given for a governess, forty pounds a year. I had assumed that you would be willing to take the position since they were in need fairly soon. I took the liberty to tell them that you would accept the position. I hope that is fine?”

  “It is quite alright. I suspect it is more than I could otherwise hope for and I thank you for all your hard work on my behalf.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Mr. Jenkins said relaxing into his normally happy face. “As I said, they are in need of a governess right away and have made transportation for you. You will travel by public coach in two days’ time. I must warn you to pack relatively lightly as there is not much room in such situations, and dress comfortably, for that matter. You will be spending two nights on the road during your travels.”

  “A three-day travel? Forgive me, but where exactly do the Duke and Duchess of Wintercrest live.”

  “Yes, that. It is quite far north. Just a day’s ride south of Edinburgh.”

  “Is it in Scotland, then?” Isabella asked, a little shocked. She had not dared to hope that she would stay in her beloved London, but to leave England altogether seemed terrifying to her.

  “No, not quite. Just short of it. I do believe the vast lands of Wintercrest come into contact with the country, but the manor itself is still on English soil.”

  “I see,” Isabella said trying to accustom herself to her new lot in life. “I thank you again, Mr. Jenkins, for not only your work with my father but for the help you have given to me and your continued friendship. I will hurry home now and begin my preparations for travel.”

  Isabella did just that. She did her best to pack a minimal amount of clothing into her chest and prepared anything she might want to keep safely tucked inside.

  Luckily, her maid, Sally, was there to help her with the work. All the time she wondered how she was going to make do on her own.

  Her last step was that of utter defiance. The night before she was set to leave she took her small sewing kit and sewed her silver locket into the hem of her dress.

  She certainly couldn’t be seen leaving the house wearing it, for Mr. Smith might come after her, demanding the property. That would be no way to start her new life.

  At the same time, she refused to leave it behind in the house that was once her home, for that wretched man to handle so roughly and sell like nothing more than a worthless trinket. She hoped that by the time Mr. Smith learned of her deceit she would be far away and out of his reach.

  If there was one good thing about having to travel so far away from the city she loved, it was that she would also be far away from the man who sought to destroy her life at every turn.

  Her three-day journey up north was not
entirely uneventful. She was very uncomfortable having been placed inside a carriage with five other people. There was scarcely room to sit let alone adjust one's position.

  She had to count herself lucky, though. After all, the fare was paid by her employer, and he had given her the kindness of a seat inside the carriage. There had been two who could only afford to sit on the roof of the carriage out in the elements.

  Many of those in the carriage were friendly enough and made small talk. As the days progressed, each got off in their turn till she was left alone with one other man.

  She noticed quite quickly that the scene outside her window changed from the warm sunshine of spring air to dark and gloomy clouds as she progressed northward.

  The final morning, just before he took his leave, Isabella asked the portly gentleman across from her if grey weather was the norm in the north.

  “My dear Miss Watts,” he said with a gruff, mustache filled voice, “I have lived here my whole life and can only boast of seeing full sunshine a handful of times each year. You are lucky that you have come for spring and summer first. It will help you acclimate before the harsh winter falls. I, myself, choose to stay in town for the dreary months, now that I am able, and only return for these warmer seasons.”

  Isabella looked out her window again and contemplated how he could have possibly counted her view outside as a warmer season. She had decided to wear her simple light brown traveling dress. It was relatively without frill, which also meant it wouldn’t show wrinkles as much in her travels.

  Though there was beautiful, lush green land as far as she could see, the sky had been nothing but grey. A hard, bitter wind bit back against the carriage and, from time to time, it even drizzled down on them.

  * * *

  Isabella had also learned from her companions on the ride that she would be staying just east of Northumberland along the coast. From the description of the estate, it sounded astonishing. Isabella supposed she would just have to get used to not only coastal fresh air and beautiful greenery, but also grey skies and damp weather.