Page 22 of The Precious Secret of a Loving Governess
But she had promised. She had been given an explanation that could possibly be true.
Oh, but she was still upset about it! She was keeping another person’s secret from someone else all over again. She had been such a fool to get herself back into this situation and the regret was overwhelming.
She had made a huge mistake. There had been an abundance of other options for her in managing to handle all of this and avoiding this situation.
Why had she not just called for someone then and there? Why had she not pulled the Earl aside and told him what she had seen?
Would he have even believed her? Would he have trusted the word of a woman disgraced by her father’s actions, who was nothing more than a governess, over the word of his betrothed? She could hardly know. After all, Victoria didn’t know either of them very well.
She had only just met the Earl a few days prior and their interactions had been sparse and had included her upsetting him. Lady Ingles was someone she had only met that evening, but the first impression had only been the start of a terrible character reference.
Nevertheless, despite not knowing either of them and being confident that her interactions with both had been deeply flawed, Victoria felt beholden to the Earl. He held her loyalty, did he not?
He had given her employment despite knowing about her past and knowing what had happened in her family. He was the one who was giving her a chance at life and to make a name for herself as a governess. He was trusting her with his daughter and that meant there must be a level of trust between them that she would have to earn.
And yet, she had made a promise. And Victoria had always been loyal with her word. She had made that promise, no matter how foolish it had been, in a moment of desperation and uncertainty.
Yes, she was stuck between the two. She was caught by her word and her loyalty and Victoria didn’t know what to do.
Once more, she justified the fact that if she told the Earl, he might not believe her. But what if he found out himself? And what if he learned that she knew about it? Would he ever forgive her for keeping the secret? Would he be like her mother and move on from it, understanding the difficult position she was in?
Or would he cast her out and tell all of London about her? Would she make a name for herself as the keeper of unfaithful secrets? She certainly already had that reputation, did she not? She had already lied so much on behalf of someone false that there was nothing more to be said about her in this regard.
Victoria ate another scone, hoping that if she filled her belly, her mind might settle. She looked at the paper before her on the desk and wondered again if she ought to write to her mother and beg her advice on these matters.
But she knew it was unwise. It would wound her mother’s heart to have to give an answer. And truly, Victoria knew the answer, she knew what she ought to do, yet she feared it.
The best solution was certainly to tell the Earl the truth of what she had seen. But she simply couldn’t. She would justify it to herself in any way she could, because it would be far too difficult to find the words to share with him about it.
Lady Ingles would deny it, as would the landowner, Mr. Smith. They would claim she had been mistaken. And if Victoria did not know them well enough to know whom she could trust, there was no chance at all that the Earl might believe he knew her well enough to trust her.
What’s more, she could even be accused of a lie for other reasons. The fanciful imaginings of a woman who had seen her own family destroyed by unfaithfulness and bitterly wishing that another family would fall. A young governess who wished to get the Earl all to herself by destroying his love for his betrothed.
Any number of rumours could be spread if she spoke up about what happened. Surely, the safest option was to keep quiet about it.
And with that in mind, Victoria sighed and left the third pastry on a sheet of paper before moving back to her bed. She would have a chance to rest that night before getting back to her lessons with Marian.
Sunday was coming soon and she would have a chance to rest and reflect on the week and make up her mind about any other difficult decisions.
In that moment, she felt as though her only good option would be to leave the estate. Then she would not have to betray anyone’s confidences.
But if she did that, she would be without work and that was simply not an option. She could not sacrifice her own self for the lies of another. Not again.
Victoria closed her eyes and breathed deeply, praying that sleep might come and she would wake with a clear mind. And by the time she blew out her candle, the exhaustion of indecision had overwhelmed her enough that she was eventually able to get the rest she needed, drifting into a painless sleep.
Chapter 11
“Now, Marian, we both know that I’m not going to give in. I am happy to give you opportunities to speak about whatever is on your mind, but I shall not tolerate continuous complaints when we have much to get through in your lessons,” Victoria said, warning the child who had just called her a useless governess for not allowing her a break.
“I only wanted a short break,” she retorted.
“If you wish for a break, you must first do the work which the break would be from. One cannot have a break if one has not even begun their efforts,” Victoria reasoned in reply.
Marian simply glared and pouted, unwilling or unable to say anything much in return to that truth.
“Now, repeat after me. Once more,” Victoria urged, continuing with the lesson in poetry. The Earl had wished for his daughter to be well educated in literature and was determined that she would find a great deal of capability in that area.
Thus far, Victoria had only found Marian to be more contentious than the day before. She began to wonder if there was any reason at all in this, but reminded herself of the importance of this position. She had to do well, and she had to push through with Marian.
