Page 6 of The Royal Governess
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Next thing I knew, I was drooling onto gold brocade. This definitely wasn’t my blue and green comforter at home on Willard Street. Feeling around on the bedside table, I couldn’t find a tissue to wipe my damp cheek. My neck had a crick from the plump pillows. Getting out of bed was a little like going down the water slide at Sandcastle Water Park. My feet still felt a little swollen from the plane ride, so I padded around the room in my socks, flexing my toes. I sniffed. Shrouded in late afternoon shadows, the room of antique furniture smelled of a recent waxing.
And I felt hungry, but hadn’t I eaten earlier? The snack tray. The faint taste of salt from the ham lingered on my lips. When I’d fallen asleep, my balcony windows had been open. Now they were closed. The tray was nowhere to be seen.
A weird feeling rippled down my neck. Someone had been in my room while I slept. And my bets were on the creepy woman who was dressed in the silk bedsheets. Going to the windows, I opened them and drank in the cool air. The sun was not as high in the sky and the scene below beckoned. I may have signed a contract, but no one seemed to need me right now.
Pushing my swollen feet into my tennis shoes, I grabbed a quilted jacket from the drawer and was out the door. Later I would have to ask for a key to my room. As nice as it was to have food delivered, the fact that someone had slid in while I was sleeping didn’t sit well. The long hallway sat in semi-darkness, lit only by an overhead chandelier. As much as I wanted to get this adventure going, I had to check on Lexi. After all, I was a mother with responsibilities. Creeping to her door, I knocked softly. When she didn’t answer, I pushed the door open. All five foot ten of my little girl was sound asleep, curled up on her tummy.
My heart melted, smoothing away the irritation she’d caused me in recent weeks. Right now, she was just a teenager sleeping with her mouth open. Scanning the room, I saw no snack tray. After tiptoeing out of the room, I stood in the hallway and considered my options.
If I took the thousand stairs down to the major hall, I might run into people–– including that woman. Or Milo. Of the two of them, I’d take Milo in a heartbeat. Obviously, Marco Napolitano wasn’t eager to meet me, not right now anyway. But I wanted to explore. Somewhere there had to be an exit. Heading in the opposite direction from the main staircase, I eventually found a door that opened into a set of stone stairs. Instead of a handrail, a leather strap was fastened along the wall, secured by pegs. Grasping the worn leather, I started down, being extra careful on the uneven stone steps.
The circular design of the stairs suggested that I was in a tower. Later I'd poke around more. Right now, I wanted to get out into the sun. The forbidding stones gave off a chill. I clutched my jacket tighter around me. The first door I passed wasn’t any help. When I pushed it open, I was on another floor, furnished much like the one where Lexi and I were roomed.
Closing the door, I kept going, hanging on to that leather strap. The next door brought me better luck. A blast of fresh air met me when I pushed the door open. I blinked in the bright light, wishing I’d brought my sunglasses. Somewhere nearby, a fountain splashed, and I followed a path of flat stones until I reached the source. Some sort of sea god frolicked in the center––half man and half sea creature.
How glorious was this? Up above, birds chattered in the trees, flitting into the fountain for short, splashy dips. Flower beds perfumed the air. Despite the shade in my backyard at home, I filled the planters on my deck with multi-colored impatiens every summer. This year, they would sit empty. But this was no time to get maudlin and I hurried past the fountain. I wasn’t going to think about what I'd always done in the past. Right now, the future was an exciting mystery, waiting for Lexi and me to explore.
At least, that was what I was telling myself.
A geometrical garden lay just ahead, and I hurried down the stone path. Inhaling all the greenery around me, I was stunned by the beauty. A giggle tickled my throat as I pictured the reaction of Reena and Maddie back in Pittsburgh. They would call me lucky, but all three of us agreed that you had to make your own luck.
In the garden of neatly trimmed bushes, a narrow corridor appeared to my left. The maze. I’d seen it earlier from my balcony. Why not? Wasn’t I an adventurous woman? Taking a chance had led me here. This step into the unknown felt like opening a new lesson plan book at the beginning of the school year. This time I could write my own lesson, unfettered by curriculum guidelines. And I was making more money than any teacher I knew––funds that could enroll Lexi in any university, if she kept her grades up.
Which brought me to Gregorio. Preparing a young man for Harvard was no small task. When I’d studied for my Master’s degree at Boston College, I’d taken the T up to Harvard many times. The staid, historic campus had filled me with awe. More than forty thousand students applied every year, but they accepted a little more than four percent. I had my work cut out for me.
I trailed a hand over bushes that were neatly trimmed into a formidable wall. What would my student be like? He was only a couple years older than Lexi. Would Gregorio be an athlete, a boy who got up to run every morning down the roads we’d taken to get here? Or would he be more like the sullen, snide boys Lexi had fallen in with lately? In my online search, I couldn’t find any photos of either the father or the son.
Well, I had to hope for the best. If Marco Napolitano’s son had his sights set on Harvard, he must have some academic background. Daylight was fading. Deep shadows fell over the path and I shivered. The tall green shrubs looked impenetrable. When I tried to stick a hand through, it came out scraped and bloody. My steps slowed. Where was I? Since I’d left my phone in the room, I couldn’t pull up a map.
Perspiration tickled along my hairline. My pink Lands End shirt clung to my body. Unbuttoning the jacket, I wondered if anyone had ever become lost in this maze. Maybe I’d be found here in two weeks, a mere skeleton trying to eat the thorny bushes. Standing still, I listened, my ears straining for the bubbling fountain. But the only sound was the eerie sigh of the wind in the trees and the screech of some bird. Was that a hawk circling overhead? Or a carrion crow?
Man, I was thirsty. And hot. And lost. Was I headed east or west? I had no clue. Fighting panic, I took a couple more turns. Was there some sort of logic to a maze? I’d heard about churches sponsoring mazes to keep people focused. Yet, here I was, feeling very scattered. And frightened. How ridiculous. I batted down my fears. I was an adult woman, here to perform a job. And I’d gotten lost on the first day.
Wait. Was that the sound of a horse? The riding lessons I’d given Lexi after her eighth-grade graduation made me somewhat familiar with the horse world. I blushed, remembering how I’d phrased my equine expertise in my resume. But I wouldn’t think about that now. The sound of hooves came again. But how to get to it? Coming to another dead end, I tried to figure out if the left or right path would take me toward the sounds I was hearing.
Coming to a halt, I listened. On the other side of the hedge, men were talking. Of course, I didn't understand a word they were saying, just heard the rumble of voices. Should I call out? But this didn’t sound like Milo. Finally, I found an area where the branches seemed less dense.It’s now or never, Christina.
I plunged my hands into the mess, trying to part the branches. Of course, there were brambles and my hands would be a mess. The voices seemed to be moving away. How would I get out of here? After yanking a thorn from the palm of my hand, I called out, “Please don’t leave!”
Did they hear me? Okay, this called for action. Getting down on my knees, I yanked my jacket over my head and rammed myself through the bushes. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy. I ended up doing a somersault onto my side. Sticks in my hair and hands stinging, I wiped dirt from my mouth.
I was staring at two pairs of dusty boots. “Sorry. I was kind of lost.” Heart pounding, I stumbled to my feet.
Different in age, the men both looked startled. From the looks of their clothes, they must have worked in the stables. “What are you doing?” asked the younger man, choosing his words carefully in a swoony accent. He held the reins of a beautiful horse that made me think ofBlack Beauty.
I pulled a prickly stick from my hair. “Going for a walk.”
Bringing a gnarled hand to his lips, the older man looked as if he was trying not to laugh. Arms folded over a broad chest, the other man, who might be in his forties, whisked a hand over a stubbled chin. “Walking. Through the bushes?”
What was that smile about? This wasn’t funny. Peering over his shoulder, I could see what looked like a stable. Curious horses hung their heads over the stall doors. The earthy smell of the stable drifted to me on the breeze.
My hair had escaped from the ponytail, and I raked my fingers through it. I was quite a mess. “Can you show me the main road?” I asked as if we were standing on a street back home.
The stable boy’s shirt was open halfway down his chest. Not that I noticed. Hair tossed into unruly curls, he smelled as if he’d been mucking out stalls. At least, I thought that was what they called it. On the flight over, I’d tried to do some serious horse research to back up my claims of equestrian expertise.
“Which road?” he asked in English, flavored with an accent.
