Page 4 of The Colonel's Ungovernable Governess
Edward remarked, “I did not know of his propensity for certain types of cloth. Does it break out in a rash or does he simply dislike the texture? Until this last venture, I have only been around the children when their mother was present. As to liking things in a particular order, I imagine that could be said of all of God’s creatures from lowly peasant to kings and emperors. I, most assuredly, like my socks in a particular drawer and my shaving gear arranged just so. I know you are the same, Darcy.”
“I am,” his cousin conceded. “As to the boy, he does not like to be touched, but once he has become accustomed to a person, he readily responds appropriately. Naturally, we do not know how his father or his uncle treated him, nor how the multitude of governesses or even his mother has reacted with him. My father never approved of how old Mr. Wickham rapped George’s knuckles with a ruler or sometimes pinched him to remind George of his manners when appearing before his godfather.”
“Do not present George Wickham any saving graces,” Edward warned. “Perhaps Old Wickham should have punished his son more often than he did. Taught him a bit of compassion.”
“Trust me,” Elizabeth said as she stood to lift the child into her embrace. “I have never heard my husband say one thing kind regarding my sister’s husband. It shall not happen again.”
Darcy shrugged his response. “I am just saying we do not know how the father lives, nor his children, until we view it for ourselves. As to young Babcock’s intelligence, anyone who calls him ‘dumb’ is sadly mistaken. He is a bit withdrawn until he knows a person better, but, again, the same could be said of me. I thought the lad to be quite intelligent. For example, he was telling me of a frog in the nearby pond on the William’s Wood estate. He showed me his drawing of the frog, but it was not just one image. He had obviously been studying the frog for several months, for he had drawn it as a tadpole and up to the time it was a frog. All images were drawn quite accurately. When I asked him what he knew of the frog, the boy quickly retrieved a book from your brother’s library that spoke of every frog’s genus. He turned to the correct page and presented the book to me, and then, unexpectedly, he recited the page word-for-word.”
“I never realized,” Edward admitted. “Perhaps I should seek a special tutor for the boy. Neither Lindale nor the child’s mother has ever described him as such.”
Darcy shrugged again. “I just spoke to the child as Sheffield used to speak to me, especially after my mother died. I told the boy I had also lost a parent. The connection seemed to open a door in the child’s compassion. He appeared more comfortable with me, and we talked for quite a while on stars and rain and what not.”
Elizabeth Darcy observed, “I wonder if he understands what is going on with Lindale and his mother’s role in the viscount’s life. If not, when he also loses Roland, it might make him think he cannot trust a parent to remain with him. He may blame himself for something not of his making. What of his twin?”
Edward confided, “Very protective of the boy. Victoria appears to have adjusted faster than her brother, but, in truth, I know little of them.”
Darcy asked, “Did she not come and sit beside you at the reception following her mother’s wedding?”
Edward responded, “Yes. I found her just like most young girls at that age. She was obsessed with the jewels in my necklace and the ribbons on my bonnet. I did not hold such a long conversation with Lady Victoria as my husband did with her brother. Bennet was newly born and required my attention more than did the festivities going on downstairs. I might not have encountered the child if she had not come to the nursery to look upon the babies there. If I thought upon it more, Lady Victoria was equally as concerned with playing with Bennet with a rattle as she was with her brother not having returned to the schoolroom. She feared the governess would be angry.”
“I am beginning to wonder if it is possible to obtain a proper governess for the pair. They are quite different, as are their needs. I have no idea of how to discover such a person. Do we hire a tutor like Sheffield for the boy and a separate governess for the girl?” Edward questioned.
“I would hope someone who is not so set on punishment, but rather compassion, might prove best,” Elizabeth said. “Hiring separate caretakers would only emphasize how the boy is different. He has the same needs as his sister, at least those addressing his obvious confusion and loneliness.”
“Yet, how do I go about finding such a person?” Edward asked.
“I could interview a few candidates if you wish to trust me with the process,” Mrs. Darcy said. “Mr. Darcy must remain in Town on business for another week or so. I thought to travel north and spend some time with my sister Jane and Mr. Bingley and enjoy spoiling their daughter, while Jane does the same for Bennet. Mr. Darcy will retrieve me and the child from there. The Bingleys are in Cambridgeshire, so I might find someone there who is more familiar with the northern shires than I would from an agency in London. Perhaps,\ such is the reason for the last governess leaving. Mayhap a younger lady, freshly new or thereabouts, would not be so set on using only one method to teach a child. It sounds as if the governess must consider both Lord Vincent’s and Lady Victoria’s needs. They are twins, but not one person, after all. If such does not prove true, I shall send word, and you can do the deed.”
“Are you convinced the task will not be too much for you to handle? I would not wish to interrupt your visit with your sister with a duty to my brother,” Edward declared.
“Mr. Darcy will tell you I am happy to converse with strangers. Unlike my husband,” she said with a teasing lift of her brows directed towards Darcy, “I give myself the pleasure of company.”
“I enjoy your company, Mrs. Darcy,” Darcy clarified.
“And I am blessed by the fact,” Mrs. Darcy countered.
“The occupation is yours, Elizabeth. You may reach me at Lockland Hall if you require my input.”
Mrs. Darcy continued to bounce young Bennet up and down. “Please pardon me. This little one is beginning to fuss. I mean to put him down. Please provide Mr. Darcy with any information of which I should be made aware such as compensation, quarters, and so forth for the lady. Also, include in the information if you customarily use a particular agent to arrange the employment.”
* * *
Jocelyn had taken multiple walks about the estate since learning of her mother’s upcoming journey. Each time she exited the house, the stable hand followed, but he provided her a certain sense of privacy; therefore, Jocelyn was able to carry a couple of her gowns, only her most sensible ones, along with her half boots, shawls, stockings, combs and a brush—a few at a time to leave in a nearby tool shed. She was determined to disappear before her mother returned from London. Supposedly, Jocelyn’s “intended” meant to call at the end of the upcoming week, and she was set upon not being in attendance, a sound declaration of her protest of an arranged marriage.
She had spoken her farewells to her brother, teasing him out of his fear of attending a British school. “You will do quite well. I asked Lord Sizemore of his opinion of Harrow. His lordship said he had originally attended Eton, but he enjoyed Harrow more, for he prefers mathematics to a study of literature, which is emphasized there. I did not completely understand all his lordship shared, but I felt Harrow would be a good fit for my favorite brother.”
“Your only brother,” Andrew had dutifully corrected, but he had thanked her for the information and presented her a quick hug, as doing so “is not the thing for boys of his age,” or so she had been told repeatedly. Jocelyn despised the idea of worrying Andrew, but her escape was the only means she had of preventing a marriage to a complete stranger being thrust upon her.
Later that evening in a consistent drizzle, she had exited through the double glass doors of what would eventually serve as her father’s study. Tugging her dark cape closer about her, she darted across the groomed lawn to ease her way into the stables. She knew several of the stable hands slept in the loft. She would prefer to saddle her horse outside, but the rain would make the task too difficult for her to handle.
“Shush,” she whispered to the horse when it nickered. Quickly, she slipped a small apple from her pocket and permitted the mare to nibble away at it. She opened the stall and lifted a saddle from a saw horse and placed it on the saddle rack in the aisle to permit the horse to know her intention. Then, with the aid of the moonlight, she fetched her bridle, setting it beside the saddle.
Taking up a familiar pad, Jocelyn slung it over the mare’s withers and proceeded to tack her up. She tightened the girth and adjusted the nose band before she purposefully traced the mare’s neck with her hand. “Be kind to me, girl. I’ve only ridden astride a few times.” With those words, she led the horse outside to a waiting mounting block and hoisted herself into the saddle. Earlier, she had claimed a pair of breeches worn by the house’s footmen, and she now wore them beneath her day dress, tugging the hem higher than normal. Jocelyn knew a riding habit would be more appropriate, but she did not think she could manage a lady’s saddle when riding at night.
She nudged the horse into a gentle walk so as not to disturb any still awake in the house or the stables. Then she made her way to where she left the bag holding her belongings. Catching it up before her, she set the mare to a steadier pace. With the night’s darkness and not knowing the roads well, Jocelyn simply hoped to be ten to fifteen miles north of the Romfield estate before anyone discovered her missing. By the time her mother learned of this caper, Jocelyn would be some thirty or more miles removed. Even then, she did not think her mother would send out more than a handful of searchers, all well-paid for their discretion. After all, Lady Romfield would wish no more scandal associated with her daughter’s name, and running away from an earl’s son would definitely provide emphasis for the meaning of the word.
* * *
