Page 44 of The Precious Secret of a Loving Governess
“What is her name, Papa?” Marian asked.
Reginald hesitated, having no idea if the mare even had a name.
“We shall have to ask the groom, for I have not been amongst the horses for quite some time so I do not know. In fact, I have scarcely given them a thought in years and wonder why we even kept them. I’m glad for it, seeing the joy you have now. But I fear that I have no idea of the name of your horse,” he confessed.
“If she has no name, may I choose one for her?” Marian asked.
“Certainly. What name would you give her?” he inquired.
She crinkled her nose in thought. “I don’t know yet, Papa, but I shall come up with something,” she confirmed.
Reginald tried to refrain from laughing and he looked ahead, watching Miss Jamison from behind and noting how her hair shone in the sunlight.
“She has very lovely hair, does she not?” Marian asked, apparently noting her father’s gaze.
“Your horse? Of course, my dear,” he replied, knowing very well that he had been caught and that Marian wanted to know his thoughts regarding the governess.
“Papa, not my horse! I mean Miss Jamison. Her hair is quite lovely. I wonder what it should look like if left down for all the world to see,” she considered dreamily.
For a moment, Reginald imagined it. Young women always wore their hair up, styled and modest. A governess especially was always seen with a low bun; anything to refrain from drawing attention to herself.
But Miss Jamison’s low bun was slipping and her hair was hanging enough that he could see the way it might cascade. It was truly exquisite and he couldn’t deny that. Of course, he would certainly not confess it to his daughter.
“Oh…well, I suppose,” he replied, hesitantly.
“Papa, do you think Miss Jamison is beautiful? I think she is. Do you?” Marian prodded, insistently.
Reginald glanced at his daughter but remained silent, not able to answer her when she was asking something so intimate.
Certainly, he found the governess to be beautiful. He tried to reason it with the fact that there were many beautiful young women in England and he could hardly choose one based solely on her looks. But he also knew that there was more to Miss Jamison than her beauty and that was the true reason that she had captured his attention so easily.
“Come, Papa. Answer me. I have seen you look at her often. And I think she is as lovely as she could possibly be,” Marian noted.
“My dear, you know that I am betrothed to Lady Ingles. It is improper for me to notice the beauty of any other woman,” he finally answered. There was nothing more that he could say.
But Reginald did understand that Marian was unlikely to leave the topic alone so he slowed his horse ever so slightly, and Marian’s mare did the same. He wanted to keep a bit of distance between himself and Miss Jamison so that she would not overhear them and know that she was being spoken of for her beauty. It was not proper at all for them to be discussing it.
“But that is just the thing, Papa. I do not understand why you would be marrying Lady Ingles. She is dull and simple. There is no reason you should feel any love towards her. Do you love her? Is there something about her which you find thrilling?” Marian asked, well beyond her years.
Reginald was often frustrated by his daughter’s intelligence and wished that he could prevent her from asking these things. How she was able to pick up on such things was beyond him, but he couldn’t deny that she was right.
He had certainly been noticing the governess of late, despite his betrothal. He knew that his union with Lady Ingles was reasonable and justified, but he had found himself distracted by the beauty of Miss Jamison quite often and was frequently enraptured by her.
But he had committed himself to another woman and he was not the sort of man to back out of something so sacred. He could not deny that Lady Ingles was also beautiful and he hoped that there was more to her than simply that.
She would bring the respect of society and would be viewed well as the mother of his daughter. England cared about image and hers was the sort of image that would be necessary. There were plenty of bachelors and fathers who would be fortunate to have a woman such as her at their sides and he knew that he ought to be glad to have been the one she said yes to.
“Lady Ingles is none of those things and you had best learn to respect her,” he replied, saying nothing more on it.
But Marian evidently had no desire to leave the subject alone, as he saw the expression on her face that showed she would continue speaking.
“Papa, you ought to marry a woman who is brave and intelligent. Someone like Miss Jamison. You and I both know that she is far superior to Lady Ingles,” she continued, saying the woman’s name with distaste.
“I know you dislike my betrothed, but that is not for you to decide. She is an excellent woman and shall make a wonderful mother for you. I insist that you give her a chance and that you learn to try to respect her, Marian. She is a good woman and you have not allowed her the opportunity to show it,” he said with impatience.
“I do not wish for her to be my mother,” she complained.
“That is not your decision. If you grew to know her, if you allowed her more than a few moments in your presence without rolling your eyes, you might recognise that she is truly someone who shall make an excellent addition to our family,” Reginald reminded her gently.
