Page 37 of The Precious Secret of a Loving Governess
The study was certainly his favourite part of his estate. Not only was it a place all gentlemen tended to love for the privacy, but he had an exquisite fireplace, a breathtaking view, and more than enough room for all of his work.
Reginald considered the impending wedding; in a mere matter of months he would no longer be unwed. His bachelor days would be over. And while he didn’t mind that so much, he was still uneasy about his choice.
Marian had warmed up to her governess, but would she ever warm up to Lady Ingles? Would Lady Ingles be the right mother for her? He hoped so, but all he had was hope. There was little evidence provided to suggest it.
A knock sounded at the door and he was startled out of his thoughts. It was not the light hand of Miss Franklin, and he called for the intruder to come in.
The door opened and Miss Jamison stepped through, causing his stomach to twist a little. Reginald made his way over to greet her and they sat at opposite ends of the desk.
“Thank you, my lord,” she replied after he gestured for her to sit. Miss Jamison did not look at him directly and he saw that she was still thinking through whatever it was that she had come to say.
“To what do I owe this visit?” he asked, watching her with intent.
She inhaled deeply and turned her eyes towards him with a smile that was meant to hide a gentle anxiety. Whatever she was going to say, it was something he would not like. But it was something she deemed important.
In the short time since her arrival at the estate, he had come to learn these cues from his governess. Although he was not as observant of human behaviour as she, Miss Jamison was not perfect at hiding her own thoughts.
For a moment, he wished that she would not bother to say what it was that she wanted, but he knew that she was bolder than that. Whatever Miss Jamison deemed important, he would hear it. There seemed to be no stopping her on that front. Perhaps it was the very thing that made her such an excellent match for Marian.
“I have spoken with your daughter today about a matter which she brought to my attention. She is rather desperate to go riding, my lord, and has imposed me to make the request of you,” she told him, finally ready to say it aloud.
Reginald swallowed hard and wished he had a glass of brandy in his hand that he might turn to. This was not the sort of discussion he might have been prepared for and he wondered why his daughter—or Miss Jamison for that matter—would have thought it appropriate for this woman to come in asking about it.
“I have made up my mind on that issue, Miss Jamison. I do not understand why you would come to me asking about it when you are aware that I already told my daughter no,” he replied in a low voice, hoping that it was enough to warn her not to proceed further. He could not fathom what had led her to suggesting this.
A blend of emotions passed over Miss Jamison’s face, from hesitancy to stubbornness, and he hoped she would choose wisely and relent to his decision.
“Yes, my lord, I am aware that you have. And if I may be so bold, I did at first wish to cater to that wish, although I promised your daughter that I would ask anyway. However,” she continued, taking in a deep breath, “upon further consideration, I have recognised that Miss Marian is right.”
For a moment, the room fell silent with distaste. Reginald could hardly believe what he was hearing. The governess was speaking against him, telling him that he was wrong. How she sought to justify that he couldn’t help but wonder, but he was determined that she would not in any way feel a peace or ease in doing so.
“You mean to say that I am wrong in the decision that I have made for my daughter?” he asked.
“Forgive me, my lord, for dissenting to your will. What I mean to say is that Miss Marian needs a more complete physical education. The outdoors would do her well and I do believe that she would benefit from riding. Her overall health is dependent upon it,” Miss Jamison replied.
Overall health.
Reginald scoffed. He knew what riding did to one’s overall health. He knew what this more complete education could result in and he would not stand for it.
“I shall not relent to this whim of yours and I suggest that in the future you do not push past the boundaries of your station in suggesting that I do so, Miss Jamison. I am uncertain as to what led you to believe that this was in any way appropriate, but I must insist that you stop,” he seethed.
Once more he saw the two emotions conflict in her brow and once more he knew that she would choose the unwise option.
“I fear I must push, my lord. This is an essential part of a young woman’s education. Riding is the English way. Your daughter needs this if she is to have a well-rounded, formal study,” Miss Jamison proceeded with a gentle passion, as if trying to appeal to society and reason.
But he began to grow even more irate, with the blood pulsing in his veins hot and angry. Who was this woman to tell him how to raise his daughter? This was not her place and her boldness was going to get them all into trouble someday. He couldn’t believe he was sitting here, allowing this to happen before him.
“Miss Jamison,” he said, his voice raised, “I must insist that you cease in this. I do not know what has led you to forget your place, but you are not a young woman of society anymore. You are not someone who has any position at all to tell me what must be done with my daughter.
“Not only that, but even if you were still in a position like that which you had when you were young, we are speaking ofmydaughter. And you are a woman and by rights cannot insist upon me,” he concluded.
His words had been harsh. Reginald knew that the way he had spoken to her was callous. In one moment he had both shamed her for her loss of station and accused her for merely being a woman. It was wrong of him and the guilt began to settle, but it was when he looked at her face that he broke inside.
Miss Jamison, normally strong and firm, appeared wounded for the first time. She was hurt and it had come from his own words. Reginald knew that he had gone too far. Yes, she had pushed in a way that she ought not to have done. She had been out of line.
But he had been cruel and there was no excuse for that in the least.
She looked about, with her eyes downcast, as if waiting for him to dismiss her. It was difficult, seeing her in this state when he had never seen her at a loss for words or a loss for pride. But he had managed to cause this and now he felt that he must undo it. Her hurt was causing him to ache as well.
