Page 35 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
The governess grimaced, “Your Grace, if you could tell me what—”
“Take. It. Back,” the Duchess snapped, “And if you dare interrupt me again…”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Caroline hastily took the tray and went back to the kitchen.
* * *
It was a miracle Caroline could stand on her feet by the time the evening came around. The Duchess had run her ragged all day. Three trips she had made with the breakfast tray until the Duchess had deemed her meal passable. She then had to lug five pails of warm bathwater up the stairs as all the scullery maids were suddenly absent.
Then she had to dust imaginary dust from the Duchess’ shelves, rearrange her wardrobe, fetch her midday meal, send her laundry out for washing, clean up her vanity from all pigments of dust, and arrange her books. She had just carried the lady’s dinner to her and her head was swimming with her lack of sustenance.
She barely made it to the kitchen and sank with weary bones in a chair. Her respect for lady’s maids had gone up every moment. Their job was hard, so very hard.
But then again—mayhap she is combining them all because she hates me.Caroline sighed with her head cradled in her arms.What have I done to make her hate me so?
“Here, luv,” Mrs. Willow’s sympathetic voice said as a cup of tea and a plate of warm fluffy rolls and cold cuts of meat were placed in front of her. “You’ve skipped every meal today. You must be hungry.”
Looking up with appreciative eyes, Caroline nodded, “Thank you, Mrs. Willow.”
“If it is any comfort luv, Her Grace hates all of us. But you…” the married woman clucked her tongue, “I think her special hatred for you is because she is threatened by you.”
Caroline frowned as she took up her tea and sipped it, “That is incomprehensible to me, Mrs. Willow. What do I have that she could even remotely be threatened by?”
The cook sat and folded her apron around her legs. Warm brown eyes met hers as the older woman smiled. “You are young, beautiful, educated, and you have a level of freedom that she doesn’t have, luv. If you haven’t noticed, Her Grace’s misery is looking for company.”
The governess nearly choked on her tea at the flat, wry words Mrs. Willow had just spoken. Clearing her throat, Caroline patted her chest and cleared her airways.
“I doubt that is what is happening,” She sighed and looked balefully at the roll before breaking it, “I know she has not had it easy the last few years during her illness but…she is just as human as the rest of us and she needs some compassion. I think we should be able to give her that.”
The older woman calmly patted her on her knee, “Sure, luv. I don’t know what you can reasonably accomplish, but if you fail, I’ll be here.”
“I hope so,” Caroline sighed, with fluttering hope, “As Miss Orville is gone for the week and I am her replacement.”
* * *
She tried, she really tried, but every time she set out to give the Duchess some kind of kindness, Caroline was met with even more coldness. The bouquet of scentless flowers she had placed on a table was found flung out the window. Josephine’s art book, that she had placed on the Duchess’ table to look at, was pushed aside in favor of her torrid novels, and the chocolates Mrs. Willow had told her that the Duchess liked were chucked back at Caroline.
Moreover, it seemed that she could not do anything right when it came to dressing her, or to her meals.That dress does not go with those slippers. That ribbon is too bright for this dress. My hair is not set that way. I do not eat potatoes— what kind of pauper are you to think I’d eat something so common?
Sighing, Caroline leaned her head back in the solace of the kitchen with the familiar feeling of exhaustion, heavy as lead in her bones. The scanty meals she had, felt indiscernible in her stomach, just as her mind felt numb. The Duke had been absent for the majority of five days, going onto six and she was starved for some mental stimulation.
“I could pay half of my wages for another chess match with him,” Caroline whispered to herself.
How she had managed to balance her duties to the children and attending to Her Grace, Caroline wished she had the slightest inkling. Her feet had taken a battering with how long she had stood on them, walked, and ran. Her nights flew so quickly that she woke up more tired than when she had gone to bed.
After staring blankly at her empty bowl, she dredged up the energy to stand up and put it with the other dirty dishes and walk out. She removed the apron and folded it over her arm while moving towards a door to the garden, fulfilling a need for fresh air and nature.
“Miss Robins?”
His voice never failed to make her breath catch. “Good evening, Your Grace, you’re back early this night. May I ask how?”
The Duke was in the middle of tugging off his coat, “The negotiations are finally over, and I now have a breath of relief. Miss Robins, if you’re not too weary, would you join me for a game of chess?”
Had her indirect wish come true? Did she have enough energy to fulfil his request? She had wished for some mental stimulation, so she replied, “Yes, of course, Your Grace.”
“Wonderful.”
Following him to his study, Caroline walked over to the chair and sat in the same seat she had taken the first time. Instead of joining her instantly, the Duke went to a cupboard and fiddled with a decanter of wine.
