Page 9 of One Last Goodbye

I smile politely. “Thomas. If you are the estate manager, then you are my superior, correct?”

He offers me another breathtaking smile. “Traditionally, yes, an estate manager would oversee all the household staff. However, since the Jensen’s are American, it’s not quite managed like that. I oversee the… I suppose you could call them the maintenance staff and the service staff. The gardeners, the driver and footman, the housekeeper and cook… essentiallyeveryone but you. Even then, I only have limited authority over Franz and Pierre—that’s the driver and footman.”

“Yes, we’ve met. They picked me up at the airport.”

“Ah. Well, the fact that I didn’t know that just shows you how loose my job is. To be honest, I think Frederick hired me to make sure the staff knows what the family’s plans are. That way they avoid having Sophie make dinner for the family and forget about their thirty guests or having the housekeeper arrive to clean the bathroom while Catherine is showering.”

“That seems fairly important.”

He laughs, a rich and hearty sound. My heart flutters, and once more, I am grateful that my mind has supremacy over my actions. “They certainly pay like it is. I do more than just run the house, though. I help Frederick out with some business work as well.”

“I see. So you’re officially an estate manager and unofficially a personal assistant?”

“Something like that.”

His manner is easy, but something seems off about him. I risk probing a little further. “It’s odd that they didn’t mention you.”

“Is it? I haven’t known a lot of wealthy people to think much about their servants unless they need something.”

I can’t argue with that. “Well, I suppose I have a lot to learn about American households.”

“They’re definitely less rigid than British households. Here, sit. I assume the children are in school?”

“They are. It seems that consists of little more than a homework packet.”

“Yes, the Jensens are quite hands off with their children’s education.”

“Well, I intend to change that,” I say as I take my seat.

“Good luck with that,” he replies. “I mean that sincerely, but I also don’t envy you. The children are a lot of work.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“They’re…” His voice trails off, and he looks away for a moment. “Well, it’s not my place to say. I’ll leave it at this. The Jensens, like all families, have their peculiarities. Living among the wealthy for the past twelve years has shown me that they are an entirely different culture. The differences between the wealthy and the working class are as stark as the differences between Americans and Britons. In some cases, even more stark.

“One peculiarity of the Jensens is a certain aloofness. They’re polite and decent enough as far as rich people go, but they are very introverted. Frederick gives the impression of gregariousness, but it’s all an act. When he’s alone, he is moody and withdrawn. Catherine is the very definition of an ice queen, and the children are carbon copies of their parents.”

“Forgive me once more for my rudeness,” I tell him, “but that’s quite a serious opinion to share with a governess.”

He smiles at me, but there’s bitterness in this smile. “It’s information you need to know if you’re to survive here.” He takes a breath, and his cheer returns. “But tell me, how are you enjoying it so far?”

“It’s an adjustment,” I admit. “I have noticed the aloofness you reference.” I hesitate a moment, but if he can be so open with me, then I see no reason not to be the same with him. “I am concerned for the children. Frederick and Catherine don’t appear happy in their marriage, and it’s affecting Olivia and Ethan.”

Thomas nods. “They’ve been fighting for a while. I didn’t realize it was so bad as to be obvious to people who didn’t know them.”

“They certainly made no attempt to hide it last night.” I briefly recount the argument at dinner that ended with both parents leaving the dining room.

When I finish, Thomas sighs. He seems to weigh what to say, but before he can speak, the front door opens, and Catherine and Frederick walk in. They appear to have been fighting, but considering what Thomas has just told me, the frowns and tension they exhibit could be perfectly ordinary. Frederick smiles perfunctorily at me, then nods at Thomas. “Shall we?”

Thomas stands. “Ready when you are, sir.” He bows slightly to me. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mary.”

I stand and return his bow. “And the same to you, Thomas.”

The two men leave. Frederick ignores his wife, and Thomas offers her a bow that she doesn’t acknowledge. When the door closes behind them, I smile at Catherine. “How’s your day been so far, ma’am?”

Instead of answering, she says. “I’m taking the children out this afternoon when school is finished.”

I decide it’s not worth my efforts to probe any further. “Very well.”

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