Page 28 of The Colonel's Ungovernable Governess
“Yes, sir,” the boy said with a smile directed at Mr. Darcy. “The size of the eardrums is smaller on the female. About the same size as the eye. The males’ eardrums are bigger than the eye.”
“Very good,” the colonel stated. “When it is time for them to breed, it will be easier to tell which is which. During the breeding season, the throat of the male bullfrog is yellow, whereas the female’s is white.”
“When do bullfrogs breed?” Vincent asked. The boy’s eyes were wide with excitement.
“Usually in late spring to late summer,” the colonel explained. “Think April to sometime in August.”
“Then now,” Vincent said excitedly. “Did you hear, Miss Lambert? Maybe our bullfrogs will mate soon.”
“Or they might have already mated,” Mr. Darcy supplied with a lift of his brows in apparent amusement.
“Might we watch them regularly, Miss Lambert?” the child pleaded.
She smoothly laced her arm about the boy’s shoulders. “We must permit Horace, is it? Why ‘Horace’?” she asked as she directed the boy’s steps towards the staircase and his room.
“Because Mr. Darcy said the frog’s croak sounded as if he was ‘hoarse.’ Do you not think the name perfect?” he asked as they climbed the stairs together.
“I most assuredly think the name is just what it should be,” she assured the boy. “And, with moderation, you may tell us all about what you learned. Yet, a gentleman, especially a future earl, must tell such tales with a bit more decorum when he has an audience of ladies than when he is speaking to his mates.”
“Will I have mates when I go to school?”
“I have no doubt you will form a close group of friends, and you will see each other through the good times and the bad. For such is the nature of friendship.”
“Will some have . . . their fun . . . at my . . . expense?” he asked as they turned towards his quarters. His fears and his stutter predictably returned together. She was beginning to understand the boy’s temperament.
“I would like to deny such people exist in the world, but doing so would be an untruth, and I will not purposely lie to you. Many young girls had their day taunting me when I was young, for I grew very quickly and was often gangly and awkward, falling over my own feet. Yet, few would dare to say such mean words to me now, even though I am a simple governess and not a woman with a fair face vying for various gentlemen’s attentions on the dance floor. Their taunts are what made me take up riding so enthusiastically, and I am more than an adequate dancer. I learned things in which I could excel, rather than to dwell on what was not my forte.”
“I wish . . . I was . . . not so slow,” the boy admitted as they came to stand together before his chamber door.
“You possess a great mind for learning, as well as a compassionate heart. You are already head and shoulders above many who would, if you permit it, shepherd you down to their level. They cannot be all you can be, and so they wish to discredit you in order to make themselves feel better, rather than to claim their own roads. School, itself, will be easy: Your ability to learn will not be the problem. Many will consider you too smart and want to mock you for your intelligence. Some will want to mock you for your athletic ability. Some will mock you for your father’s death. There are multiple ways they may employ, but you must remember, we criticize those we wish we could emulate, for if we cannot be as great as them, then we must force them below us so we can shine. I know this is all very intimidating for a child of your nature, but you will find a means to shine despite the craziness of the world. I believe in you, as do the colonel and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Should you not accept our estimation, rather than to worry so much on what you cannot control? Perhaps we should speak to both the colonel and Mr. Darcy regarding what to expect at school. The more you know, the easier it will be for you to discover your own special niche of friends.”
“Do you think . . . Mr. Darcy . . . or the colonel . . . had troubles . . . at school?” the boy asked tentatively.
“I suspect Mr. Darcy was a bit more of your nature than is the colonel. Such is not to say Colonel Fitzwilliam is not an intelligent man, but I imagine Mr. Darcy knows facts about obscure subjects that the colonel would consider unnecessary to know. Whereas, the colonel knows a bit more of people than does his cousin. We simply must find you a ‘Colonel Fitzwilliam’ type of friend, and you will be set for life.” An image of her brother Andrew flashed before her eyes. Andrew and Vincent could prove to be great friends, if only—
The possibility of the two boys ever meeting was next to nil. She was a governess in this house—not the colonel’s betrothed. Someday, her parents would discover her whereabouts and come to claim her. “You never meant to become involved in the lives of these people,” she warned herself.“You are playing a role, just as if you are an actress on the stage. Soon, you shall be required to leave the Fitzwilliam household and return to the one belonging to your father.”
“You should hurry along,” she told the boy. “You must change and wash your face and hands before the midday meal. Your sister has returned from school, and you will want to hear her tales.”
In her small quarters, a few minutes later, Jocelyn sat on the edge of her sparse bed. “I mean to set Vincent’s and Victoria’s futures on more solid ground than they are at present. I shall not have them regretting their time with me. As to the colonel, as a governess, I cannot aspire to such a marriage, and, as Miss Romfield, I am promised to another. There is no means to prevent what has been placed into action previously. A loveless marriage awaits me in Kent, while no chance of marriage is my reality in Lincolnshire.”
Chapter Eleven
Edward had gone looking for the twins, though he had asked several maids after Miss Lambert, rather than Vincent and Victoria. He had reasoned that the twins were always with Miss Lambert, or so he told himself. He was quite irritated with this need to seek the woman out constantly. When he reached the kitchen, he paused, out of sight, to listen in on the conversation between Miss Lambert and his brother’s cook.
“Did I tell you that you might claim several of my rolls for these ducklings?” Mrs. Turner asked, but not in an angry tone.
“If you wish me to entice them outside, I require something more tempting than my pleas,” Miss Lambert argued.
“They should not be in my kitchen,” Mrs. Turner declared, but again, not in a scolding manner.
“You do not mind the children sneaking down to visit with the ducklings,” Miss Lambert cajoled. “You enjoy having the children about; otherwise, you would not keep extra biscuits in the jar.”
“I’ll have me none of your sass, missy,” Mrs. Turner asserted, but she was laughing as she did so. “Nice to view the young ones being children is all I can say in me defense.”
“They are adorable,” Miss Lambert observed.
“Who?” Edward asked as he stepped into the room. “The ducklings or the twins?”
