Page 69 of The Governess of My Heart
“Which part of town were you raised in, Miss Smith?” Mr. Anderson asked.
“Gracechurch Street, sir,” Elizabeth replied, tired of lying to anyone who asked her the same.
“I have never been there much. You see, I was raised in Scotland as well. Martha did not visit London until she was married. My father, you can say, was not very welcoming of our pursuits to explore the world.”
“Why would you say so?”
“He disapproved of us doing anything out of his purview, our education, pursuits, acquaintances, he decided everything.”
“I would not say that is uncommon.”
Mr. Anderson laughed.
“You are right. But I hope the future generations are not so.”
He paused.
“How are you liking life here?”
“Very much, sir. I enjoy teaching the children, and their progress gives me joy.”
“My sister is lucky to have found you. I can see that you enjoy reading, and I have never seen you without a book. I used to be like you when I was younger. I spent hours in the library, neglecting anything else asked to be done.”
“And now?”
“To be honest, I do not. Not that I have family that needs me at every hour and time. It is just that it no longer gives me the pleasure it used to. I read, but not like before.”
Elizabeth noticed some sadness in his voice. He seemed to get carried away for a moment, and this was their conversation during breakfast.
That evening, she was to attend the supper party at Mrs. Hampton’s house. When she dressed for the evening, Elizabeth felt unsettled.
She wore an evening gown in a light shade of blue. Her maid suggested she try something fancier for her hairstyle, but Elizabeth protested.
“But, Miss, this is a fancy evening, and you have such beautiful curls. Please let me work on them.”
Finally, Elizabeth agreed.
Her maid worked on her hair and let a few curls cover the sides of her face.
“You look lovely,” she said in admiration once done.
Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror, and she never really thought herself a beauty. Her mother often reminded her of this.
But she felt her hairstyle made her look different and felt self-conscious.
Maybe I can ask Lucy to redo my hair.
She thought but then decided against it.
“Well! I can see that your maid has worked on your hair differently. You look beautiful, my dear,” Lady Martha exclaimed.
“Thank you, madam,” Elizabeth said, wondering if she would attract unwanted attention; as much as she wanted to be a part of the family, she did not want to raise eyebrows.
Just then, Lord Ashton joined them.
“Where is your wife?” Lady Martha asked.
“Mother, she is unwell. She won’t be joining us today.”
