Page 12 of The Precious Secret of a Loving Governess
“Oh no. You and I have eyes that are paler, and more grey. Your mother had eyes that seemed to glow in their colour. They were quite astounding, really. Some people even called them disturbing somehow. But I thought they were beautiful,” he said again.
“I wish I could remember her more clearly,” Marian lamented.
“I wish you could as well. Every little girl should be able to remember her mother and I am very sorry that you feel you are forgetting her. But remember, although she is not here with us, she is watching over you,” he said, wishing it were true.
“You think she is?” Marian asked.
“Of course, my dear. Nothing could keep her from watching over you. You are too beautiful and wonderful in every way. Now, you really must get some sleep,” he told her, to Marian’s dismay.
“Alright, Papa,” she whined.
“That’s my good girl. Enjoy your rest and have the sweetest of dreams,” he said, hugging her once more. Then, sighing and leaving the room for her to go to sleep, he wished he could have hugged her for just a little bit longer.
Reginald made his way to his own room and found himself struggling to get any rest at all. The only thing he could think of now was the fact that his daughter had been right about Miss Jamison’s beauty, and his own sadness that she could not remember her own mother.
Still, with everything that was changing in the home, he was glad that his little girl might finally get the attention she craved.
Chapter 6
Victoria woke ready and excited for the day ahead when she would begin lessons with Marian. She knew that it was likely going to prove difficult, but didn’t mind that so much. She was feeling a great deal more confident about everything and was certain that she could get the child to give her at least some attention during the course of the tutoring.
After breakfast, she ran up to her room to grab all the materials she had prepared and returned back downstairs to place them in the study room before calling for Marian to be brought to her.
When the child came, sidelined by Miss Franklin, it was already quite evident that she was not looking forward to the day of her lessons. Victoria could see the distrust on her face and the little desire she had to be anywhere near the school room.
“Good morning, Miss Marian,” she greeted politely, standing firm but smiling at the child nevertheless.
“Good morning,” Marian mumbled in reply.
“Louder,” Miss Franklin urged.
“I said good morning,” she repeated at a higher volume.
“Very good, Miss Marian,” Victoria encouraged. “Now, shall we get to our lessons?”
“If we must,” the child sighed.
“We must. Now have a seat,” she instructed.
The sullen behaviour of Marian was disheartening and Victoria didn’t know entirely what else she was meant to do to solve the problems that she was faced with. But she made every effort, trying to keep up her spirits and gain her interest.
Now and then, Marian would act out, throwing a book or simply being incapable of keeping still. But Victoria saw through the actions, knowing that Marian was simply trying to push her boundaries and be as disruptive as she was capable of being.
More than that, she knew that Marian was seeking the discipline of a mother. And while she would never respect a governess as a mother, Victoria would do her best to give her what she needed.
“It would seem that this is not working,” Victoria said at one point, rather darkly to the child. She shut her book with a casual motion that created a loud thud, and it snapped Marian to attention instantly.
“I suppose I shall just be through with it,” Victoria continued. “After all, you’ve clearly no desire to learn or to become even better, more skilled, more intelligent. You wish to remain exactly as you are. It is a wonder that you have a governess at all if you have so little care to be anything more than a child.”
Victoria saw in Marian’s eyes a subtle fear, a realisation that she had pushed too far. Although there was no reason for the child to think that she was in trouble and that Victoria was simply using the situation to try a new tactic with her, it seemed to be working.
“I-I do desire to learn,” Marian said, as if against her will.
Victoria paused and allowed the child to sit in her concern that she might not accept her as a pupil, but finally, Victoria continued in her work.
She used humour as best she could to keep the lesson engaging, but to little avail. Holding lightness, being honest; all of her attempts seemed to fall on deaf little ears. But Marian at least tried to prevent herself from displaying the boredom she continually felt.
And she often failed to refrain from exhibiting it.
