Page 8 of The Duke and the Enigmatic Governess
“I miss Mama,” Sasha said quietly, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Audrey reached out her arms and the child jumped up onto the bed, ready for a hug. “I know, my dear. You will miss your Mama very much.”
Sasha sniffed and buried her head in the folds of Audrey’s nightgown.
“Was it just you and Mama at the inn?” Audrey asked her gently.
“Yes, we left our house and went in the carriage, and then on a boat on the sea. I didn’t see Papa or Grand-mère again after that. Or my dog Bepé. We had to leave him too.”
“You came over the sea with Mama?”
She nodded in agreement, “Oui, bien sûr.”
Audrey needed to remember to tell the duke this information. It seemed finding Sasha’s family overseas, most probably in France, was going to be difficult.
“And your name… Do you remember your name?”
“Mama called me Sasha, after my Grand-mère. She was from another country. My Mama was a lady, a great lady,” she added with pride. “She had beautiful dresses and people came to dance at our house. I love to dance.” She paused, looking up at Audrey. “Do you dance, Miss—?” Sasha paused, unsure.
“Miss Lettie,” she prompted. “And indeed, I do, and we shall dance here,” promised Audrey. “Now, you are going to go with Rosie. You’ll like Rosie, and she’ll give you a bath and then some breakfast. I’ll be with Mrs. Driscoll if you need me.”
The little girl seemed happy to go with Rosie, and Audrey waved as they left the room.
***
Mrs. Diana Driscoll was busy setting out teapot and crockery on a little walnut table when Audrey arrived at the housekeeper’s parlor.
Small and cozy, the parlor had restful green walls, and a watercolor of a grand house surrounded by parkland. Through the window, Mrs. Driscoll had a view of the garden and a cherry tree in full blossom.
“Welcome my dear. I thought we could take our breakfast in here, by the fire, where it is cozy and warm. Despite the sad circumstances, it is a pleasure for me to talk with a lady of my own station in the house. It can, as I’m sure you know, be quite isolating being neither a servant nor a member of the family.” Mrs. Driscoll smiled warmly at Audrey, “And I hope when we are together, not in company, you will feel able to call me Diana.”
Audrey’s heart melted at the kindness of this woman, whom she had only just met the day before. Her back and shoulders eased into the soft chair near the fire, listening to the sound of Mrs. Driscoll pouring the tea.
The fragrance of the yellow China tea drifted across the room. She looked up to meet the smile of Mrs. Driscoll and knew in an instant this was a good person who put others before herself with no hidden agendas.
“I thought you would be hungry. So, I’ve asked Cook to send us kidneys, chops, and sausages. You need to keep your strength up my dear, I can see that the little girl is going to be a handful.”
“I suspect you are right, Mrs. Driscoll,” agreed Audrey, “and I’m very hungry, famished in fact. I’ll be glad to eat anything at all.”
“Diana, remember,” said Mrs. Driscoll as she handed Audrey a cup of warm tea which Audrey held close, finding the warmthcomforting. The scent of the tea reminded her of the blend her mama had always preferred.
“Tell me, and let me know if I am prying,” enquired Mrs. Driscoll, “what county are you from, and what skills do you have? His Grace said you were on your way to take up a position as governess when this unfortunate incident happened?”
“Indeed, I am, or rather was, travelling to Harrogate to be governess to a little boy. My home county is Bedfordshire, which is where I grew up and lived until last week.”
“A beautiful county and not too far from town. And your accomplishments? As a governess, what do you enjoy teaching, Miss Banks?”
“Oh please, call me Letitia or Lettie. I teach the usual range of accomplishments.”
What do I teach?she thought frantically, her mind totally blank in that moment.
Thinking quickly, Audrey regained her composure and said, “I enjoy art and literature, but my passion is music. I play the pianoforte, or by preference the spinet. I know it is somewhat old-fashioned nowadays, but I love the sound. I began to learn the harp last year, though I do not consider myself proficient yet.”
“We have a spinet and a pianoforte in this house. In fact, the spinet is in the room next door. We don’t have a harp, though there are several at Clairville Hall,” Mrs. Driscoll told Audrey. “Do you sing? I used to love to sing.”
“I do. I’m not a high soprano, but I enjoy singing very much.”
“I suspect we will need you to play and sing in the evenings while we are confined and quarantined here.” Mrs. Driscoll smiled. She looked thoughtful. “I doubt you will need to start any formal lessons with little Miss Sasha. She only lost her mother yesterday and is going to need love and support, not arithmetic and geography.”
