Page 4 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
“Oh, Miss Robins,” the cook acknowledged, as she hastily took out some pans. “I never saw you at supper, so, Mr. Hinds and I made sure to leave your meal out. I’m glad you ate. You’re too young to be skipping meals, luv. You need some meat on your bones.”
Laughing under her breath, Caroline shook her head, “Thank you for your consideration, but why are you up at this time of night?”
Mrs. Willow sighed audibly, “Her Grace’s lady’s maid woke me. I was told her stomach is giving her a warm time, and she requested some tea and some biscuits.”
Pressing her lips together to stop a soft exhalation, Caroline asked, “How is Her Grace doing?”
With both hands braced on her hips after she had placed the full pot on the grill of the woodburning stove, Mrs. Willow shook her head. It was mostly dark, but the flickering flame gave Caroline enough light to see that the cook was unsettled. “I cannot tell you, Miss Robins, she’s barely been out of bed these past three days.”
Looking back, Caroline couldn’t remember seeing the Duchess in the past month, much less the past few days, and grimaced.
“And how…” Caroline hesitated to speak in case her words would be misconstrued, “How is His Grace? I’d imagine not well—if I had to see the one I loved in such pain, day after day, I’d be just as disconsolate.”
“Well…” Mrs. Willow said, while carefully pouring the boiled water on the tea leaves and spooning in a touch of honey, “His Grace is a strong man. He had to be, to survive the military at a young age. Her Grace has gone through spells like this and I can bet he’s hoping that, just like the one before it, she will come through.”
Standing up and by habit brushing her skirts off, Caroline smiled. “I hope so, too. Good night, Mrs. Willow.”
“Good night, dear,” the older woman said, while carefully arranging a plate of biscuits on the tray beside the tea.
Leaving the kitchen, Caroline went back to her modest quarters and prepared for bed. Unbidden, her mind flitted over to the Duke and she mulled over what she knew about him.
It had been slow, as there were not many occasions when the two would mingle, but over time the pieces had come together. The image was not complete but the parts she had were lovely.
She knew that the Duke had spent some time in the military, that he was educated in the fields of business and law. She also knew that he copiously read historic books, adored his children, and had a strange penchant for spices from the subcontinent. The Duchess, on the other hand, preferred candies from France, read salacious gothic novels when she was strong enough, and barely paid any mind to anyone, least of all her children.
So sad.Caroline sighed.They are such wonderful children.
After two years of observation of the distance between the Duke and his wife, Caroline had come to a silent conclusion. Although it was not confirmed by any of the servants around her, it was evident—the marriage of the Duke and Duchess was one of convenience. It was not a strange concept, as many of the peerages entered into such engagements, but she wished the Duke could have found someone who truly loved him.
The distance between them was more evident on the carriage ride back from the hamlet’s church that Sunday. Though the couple was sitting together, the Duchess of Barley, clad in angelic white, had her eyes trained out the window while the Duke stared silently at the padded red upholstery in front of him.
Caroline and the two children were sitting behind them, with Nicholas mirroring his father’s attitude of solemnity, while Josephine continuously switched from sweetly chattering to humming under her breath. Caroline saw the Duchess’ jaw clench whenever Josephine’s chatter got too loud.
“Lady Josephine,” Caroline admonished softly, “Be quiet now, please. I promise to answer your questions when we arrive home.”
The child pouted but nodded, “Yes, Miss Robins.”
Out of her peripheral vision, Caroline noticed the Duke’s eyes close tightly for a moment, with lines of pain at the corners but they vanished in the next moment. Arriving at the ducal manor was a blessing and after the party alighted from the vehicle, the Duchess curtly spoke.
“I am wearied, Moses.” Her voice was stiff as she discarded her shawl and went to the stairwell, “And I will be resting. Please do not disturb me.”
Caroline balked at the lady’s indifference as she had not even turned to look at the man she was speaking to.
How cold.
In reaction, Caroline stopped Josephine from going after her mother and softly shook her head. “Follow me, My Lady, let me take you and Lord Hayward to your rooms, so you can take off your church clothes. Then, you can have repast in the—”
“Thank you, Miss Robins.” The Duke cut in. “I appreciate your help, but I would rather not bother you on your Sunday afternoon. Please, let me take care of them.”
An expression of melancholy was in his eyes, but it was a look Caroline had seen many a time over the years, and every time she saw it, her heart pained her.
“Understood, Your Grace,” Caroline said as she curtseyed and left to her quarters. Doing so, she passed a large portrait above the fireplace—it was a beautiful depiction of the Duke, the Duchess, three-year-old Nicholas, and baby Josephine resting on the Duchess’s lap, all smiling serenely.
On the surface, it depicted a happy family but privately, Caroline thought the painter had taken some artistic liberties with the expressions. The creation was starkly contradictory from the reality she woke up to every day.
While approaching a corner she looked over to see the Duke lifting his daughter into his arms while resting his hand on his son’s head. He was speaking to the children, but his words were so quiet that she could not hear what he was saying. Silently, she went her way.
Her quarters were very humble, holding only a bed, a wash closet, an armoire, a table, and a chair. The floor underneath was bare wood and her slippers or stockings were sometimes the only things saving her feet from freezing during wintertime. However, it was summertime and the boards were warm enough.
