Page 51 of The Precious Secret of a Loving Governess
She thought back to the previous night when she had confessed so many things to Miss Franklin. If the Earl had heard those complaints, he might not give her such credit for her willingness to accept her new position. But she was relieved that he had not seen that side of her and that she had managed not to show it.
Victoria truly wanted to remain strong and to be braver than the circumstances that surrounded her. She wanted to be the woman that it seemed the Earl saw in her. Putting aside her insecurities and the petty jealousies, she was more determined than ever to live up to the woman that he believed her to be.
She had been grateful for his compliments and it was truly affecting her and how she saw herself, something she knew that she deeply needed in order to continue living the way that she was. Marian was an excellent charge for a governess and she was grateful that of all the positions she might have had, this one was the placement she was in.
She was also a blend of thankful and tortured for having so handsome and kind an employer. She wished that she had not noticed him in the ways that she did. Victoria wanted to be free of the feelings that she was having for him, but knew that she could not escape them.
“Have I spoken too far on the subject?” the Earl asked, appearing nervous of her silence after his words of kindness.
“Oh no, my lord. I am humbled by what you have said of me. I am grateful that you see these things in me although I cannot imagine them to be true,” she said sweetly.
“They are true. All of it is true. Do not discount yourself when others tell you the beauty they see in you. I would not say these things lightly,” he told her.
Victoria was astounded by his words and the conviction with which he said them. He truly believed that she was the woman he had claimed her to be and it caused her heart to soar.
“I thank you, my lord. You have done me so much kindness and I hope to live up to the woman you believe me to be. And I hope to encourage Marian to be a woman like that as well, for what you have described is certainly someone worth striving to be,” she acknowledged.
“I have seen how your influence is already turning her into that sort of woman. And indeed, that is the sort of woman worth striving to be. But I shall say again, you are not striving. You have already become her and that is something worth being proud of,” the Earl replied.
Victoria smiled and looked away, unable to maintain her face towards the Earl when she could hardly believe that he felt this way towards her. His words bordered on affection which was dangerous, but he was maintaining just enough of a proper distance and just enough conviction in his words to not let the warmth drip through them.
She wondered if Lady Ingles noted the beauty of his scar. If she understood the depth of his love for his daughter. If she cared about the things that made him happy.
Victoria couldn’t help but ponder how the woman felt about her betrothed.
And for a moment, brief though it was, painful though it was, she considered finishing the lie right then and there.
In the dark of the carriage ride, just the two of them riding alone, could she tell him? Could Victoria tell the Earl the truth of what she had seen? Could she confess to him that his fiancée was faithful to him neither in soul nor body?
It would be easy. Or it would be extremely difficult. But either way, it would be possible. She could finally be rid of the secret that plagued her and Victoria could see his heart would break, but eventually he would come around and be free of it.
Would he be angry at her? He might be. He might be mad that she had kept the secret in the first place, or perhaps angry that she had told him and ruined his dreams of marriage and a mother for Marian.
But it would free him of his ties to a woman who did not care for him as she did.
Victoria thought about it, perhaps longer than she felt necessary. But ultimately, she determined that her motives would be selfish and she could not do that to a woman to whom she had promised her silence.
It was a painful decision to make. Many times she had considered telling the Earl but had chosen not to out of fear and cowardice. Out of a misguided loyalty, even. But in this moment, she knew that her desire to tell him was entirely for her own sake and that was an impure decision to make.
She would honour the promise. She would allow Lady Ingles to have what she wished for even if it broke Victoria’s heart to do it.
“We are not far,” the Earl noted, glancing outside the window of the coach.
Victoria looked out of her own, and saw only the rolling green fields of England. She wondered how much longer the ride would be. Thus far it had been filled with honesty, a strange tension unspoken between them, and the decision to maintain a terrible lie.
She was rather desperate to be free of the ride, to breathe in the evening air and not have to think about everything that was taking place between herself and the Earl.
Each time their eyes had locked upon one another, Victoria felt her heart squeeze and she hated knowing that she was falling in love with a man she could never have. The carriage ride had been yet another reminder of it and she still felt the print of his hand burned upon her shoulder even now.
But she thought once more about Lady Ingles. The Earl had chosen her from amongst many. There were plenty of women he could have chosen to marry but she was the one he had committed himself to.
No matter how Victoria told herself that it was only for the sake of Marian, she believed that there must have been more that had gone into that decision. There must have been something about the woman that he cared about enough to keep to that.
And truly, Lady Ingles did not seem to be a bad woman. Perhaps misguided on this issue, but certainly not bad. She had been kind to Victoria, more than once. And she couldn’t believe that it was only in an attempt to keep her quiet.
The woman was enigmatic and engaging, so evidently there was plenty to her personality that was worth enjoying and Victoria could not ignore that. She pushed her mourning aside.
Lady Ingles was just another woman, one who was not so different from Victoria. After all, had they not both been pushed into positions they could not control? Had they not both had their places in life chosen for them?
