Page 3 of One Last Lie

The coffee maker is an automatic one that brews from pods. I prefer coffee boiled in a percolator or steeped in a press, but I don’t expect everyone to be as old-fashioned as me.

I return to the kitchen and set Mrs. Ashford’s mug in front of her.

She lifts it to her lips and sips. I watch as the warmth of the brew suffuses her. She closes her eyes, breathes deeply, and releases the breath in a cleansing sigh. Her shoulders relax, and this time, when she smiles, there is clear gratitude. "Thank you."

I feel a rush of warmth at being able to do something kind for her. “It’s no trouble at all. Grief tries to prevent us from caring for ourselves. That is a temptation we must resist at every turn.”

“You speak as though you have some experience with grief.”

Annie’s smile flashes across my face, and my ears echo with her laughter. I feel a touch of sympathy for the grief the family must have endured. I understand their pain all too well. I nod and say softly. “I do.”

“A husband?”

“No. A sister.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. But she was lost to me nearly thirty years ago. I have had time to come to terms with my grief.” I hope that’s the only lie I need to tell her. I smile at her. “I am here to help you and your children come to terms with yours.”

She frowns. “That seems a bit presumptuous for a governess, don’t you think?”

I feel heat climb my cheeks. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I only meant that I hope to relieve some of your burden.” “You needn’t worry about my burden, Miss Wilcox. You are here to care for the children. When the time comes, we will discuss whether you shall be responsible for tutoring them as well or whether we’ll send them to school. In the meantime, I suggest you limit your concern to ensuring the children are fed, bathed and clothed.”

I incline my head respectfully. “Of course, ma’am. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

She leans back and regards me. After a moment, she says, “Why did you accept this position, Mary?”

I’m not sure how to respond. I stammer a bit, then say, “Well, I felt I could be of use here.”

“Hmm. I looked into your background a bit before I hired you. You come from wealth.”

“Well… not so much as you, ma’am, but yes, I have a tidy estate.”

She continued as though I hadn't spoken. "Yet you chose to live in an apartment for the past twenty-five years. You also chose to abandon a graduate program in psychology to pursue a career as an elementary school teacher. Why?"

Once more, I stammered, taken aback by the personal question. I'm about to work up the courage to suggest that my past career choices have no bearing on my work for her when the door opens, and I hear, "Miss Cecilia, we need to…"

The voice trails off, and I turn to see its owner. She’s around my age, perhaps a few years older. She wears the dark blue dress and long white apron of a maid. That would be the housekeeper, Theresa Godwin.

My suspicion is confirmed a moment later when Mrs. Ashford says, “Theresa, this is Mary Wilcox, the governess. Mary, this is Theresa, the housekeeper. She’s been with the family for many years.”

So, either she is older than she appears, or she was brought to service as a teenager. I stand and smile, extending my hand toward her. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

Theresa’s expression makes it clear that it’s anything but lovely to meet me. She gives a barely perceptible nod, then pointedly ignores me as she turns to Mrs. Ashford. “Miss Cecilia, there are…” she looks suspiciously at me “…matters we need to discuss.”

I nod and turn to Mrs. Ashford. “Thank you for a lovely cup of coffee, Mrs. Ashford. I look forward to getting to know you and your family better.”

Cecilia gives me a distracted smile, her mind already turned to other things. I turn my eyes to Theresa to see her still staring daggers at me. Quite intentionally, I return a steady gaze of my own, even as I smile and say, “It was lovely to meet you, Theresa. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

She offers a sickly grimace that I believe she intends to be a smile and at the same time intends to be a look of disgust. I hold her gaze a moment longer, then turn and leave the dining room.

For a moment with Cecilia, I felt as though I might have a chance to break through the grief and establish a real relationship with this family. In hindsight, I suppose that was a bit presumptuous of me, but I want so much to spare them the grief that I still carry after Annie’s loss.

But how can I connect with them when the matriarch of the family doesn’t trust me? How can I earn her trust when even the other staff treats me with disdain.

I remind myself that it’s only the first morning. I still have time. Not every interaction will turn out like this one.

Still, the chill I feel from the moment I arrive at the Ashford Estate remains wrapped around me like a blanket.

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