Page 42 of The Precious Secret of a Loving Governess
“It could not have been your fault. There is no way you might have known what was to come. You could not have stopped a horse from doing what she did. My lord, forgive yourself, for you did nothing wrong,” Miss Jamison said.
It was painful to hear her defend him. Painful because he felt the relief of it. Reginald knew that her words were a balm on his wounds, but he had no desire to forgive himself.
It would have been easier if she had scolded him, told him what a terrible husband he had been. Miss Jamison ought to have known that he should still be punished for his actions and that she was being far too kind in allowing him to have peace when he had caused all of this.
But her words, although they stung, left a balm behind. Something healing.
“You must know that guilt solves nothing,” Miss Jamison said, giving him a look of sympathy.
Reginald was surprised by her statement and the fact that she was evidently unwilling to believe anything different.
“But it is still a cross that I must bear,” he told her.
“It is not. I have crosses of my own to bear and I can assure you that they have done little for me other than to wound me further than I wish to admit. Although things within my family have changed and improved, I retain the guilt of what occurred long ago and the lies I told my mother for the sake of my father,” she confessed.
He gazed at her in wonder, curious what it was that might lead her to feel that way. There was nothing about her family’s downfall that could be the result of her own actions. It was well known that it had been her father’s behaviour that had destroyed the family.
“I knew of my father’s affairs,” Miss Jamison volunteered, the words coming out in a cold, hatefully honest way.
This came as a shock to Reginald who would never have imagined her as a young woman, not even having made her debut, knowing of her father’s indiscretions. What sort of father would have allowed for his daughter to know of such things and not right them immediately? It must have been a terrible position for her.
“I found him once with a mistress. He convinced me that it ought to remain a secret between us. So I chose to lie to my mother, I chose to pretend as though all was well and nothing had gone amiss. All because he wished for it,” she confessed with a regretful sigh.
“I had no knowledge of this. It must have been a great burden for you to bear,” he said.
Thinking of Marian, Reginald wondered how a father could put his daughter in that sort of place of having to lie for him. It seemed the most selfish of acts and he thought that he would hate himself if he had ever done such a thing.
Marian was an innocent child and Miss Jamison had been the same, although older, when this had happened. He wondered how old she had been when she first caught her father. How many years was it that he made her lie for him?
All of these questions ran through his mind but he felt that it was not right to ask her about them. It would be unfair, he thought. Still, she had been rather open.
Looking at Miss Jamison’s face, he saw that it was downcast as if pondering something deep, as if there was still a great deal of regret in her heart. No, he did not have to ask her further questions. She could share as much as she liked, but Reginald determined not to bring about more pain by pushing for things he wished to know. It was her life and her business, not his own.
“Yes, well…when someone asks you to remain silent and they give a good reason for it, it can be difficult to refuse,” she said vaguely.
Reginald glanced ahead at his daughter to ensure all was still well. Marian seemed to continue in her delight of the ride and he was glad for it, wanting to continue the conversation he and Miss Jamison had begun.
“If I had confessed the truth to my mother, perhaps if I had been honest with her, she might have put a stop to my father’s actions sooner. She might have threatened him with leaving before he caused our family to fall from grace within society. I am confident that if she had, my father would not have allowed himself to stray so far,” she told him.
Reginald pondered the situation for a moment, trying to consider what it must have been like for her to be in such a difficult place. The same questions echoed in his mind about Mr. Jamison. What sort of father would leave his daughter with such a terrible secret? How could Mr. Jamison have allowed his daughter to suffer like that? And it was clearly still affecting Miss Jamison; had he never considered that?
“I am sorry you were left to carry the guilt. But it was not your fault. Your father ought to have been better than that. He ought never to have forced his own daughter to live his lie and pretend that all was well. He should have allowed you to be honest by telling your mother himself,” Reginald told her.
“Yes, but it is difficult to let go of our guilt, is it not?” she asked, turning to face him.
“Indeed, it is. But you were only a girl. You loved your father and wanted to see him happy,” he reasoned.
“Certainly. And he told me that my mother would be sad if she knew the truth. He gave me a great number of convincing reasons to remain silent on the matter. But I knew. Deep in my heart, I knew that what I was doing was wrong and that I ought to have told her,” Miss Jamison admitted.
Once more he saw that there was a lingering guilt within her, as if something more was inside, haunting her. Reginald wondered what it could be, but settled on the fact that she was still terribly upset on her mother’s behalf.
“So you wished for everyone to be happy. There is no wrong in that,” he reassured her.
She laughed guiltily. “Yes, I suppose we are able to see one another’s innocence where we see only our own guilt,” she pointed out, making eye contact with him once more.
Their eyes locked all over again, as if stuck in a dream. There were no horses or trees, no ponds or meadows. They saw only each other. Reginald felt it and he was certain that Miss Jamison did as well. They could not look away from each other for a very long time.
It must have been days, or even weeks, that passed before they managed to tear away their gazes.
