The Observations of a Curious Governess (2 page)

I did so, being careful not to over-stare, though I confess I was much awed by her, and wished to study her manners and speech more carefully.

‘We have morning cake, if you are so inclined.’ She gestured to a dashing young footman, who immediately stepped forth, extracted a slice of honey cake, and presented it to me .I was not hungry, but refusal should have been excessively rude, and thus I accepted with a blush.

Milady smiled. ‘Cook is a magnificent cake-baker, and I suspect your employ here will mean a great deal of cake for you, knowing how fond my children are of them.’

I seemed to sense something bitter in her tone, but could not fathom the meaning behind the Lady’s words. It seemed the sweet, luscious, caraway-spiced honey cake turned to dust in my very mouth. I swallowed, but I fear the gesture was obvious, as Lady Stanton immediately spoke once more.

‘Tea for Miss Swan if you will, Sinclair.’

The footman turned again and made himself busy with the tea. I accepted it most gratefully, placing my cake carefully down beside me.

‘Miss Swan, I am certain you shall be most eager to be introduced you to your charges.’ She shared a glance with Miller, who nodded and exited the room, only to return immediately with four children and a nanny.

The nanny, or perhaps she was a nursemaid, held an older but no doubt still nursing babe and a toddler in her strong arms. The other two Stanton children stood nervously beside her. I stared at the children a moment. Alexander and Helen were six and five respectively, I knew from my correspondence with the family. All four children had heads of magnificent gold and were very fine in appearance.

‘May I introduce my eldest son Alexander, my eldest daughter Helen, my middle son Henry, and my youngest son Edward. The two younger boys are in the arms of our wet nurse, Nancy. If you have any questions regarding the children, it is best to see her, or Nanny Parker.’

I was surprised when Lady Stanton dropped her voice a little conspiratorially. ‘You must understand however, Nanny Parker was my husband’s own nanny, and in truth is a bit beyond such work now.’ She hesitated with a dramatic sigh and raised her voice once more. ‘But what is one to do? Nancy will assist you in all you need, I’m certain.’ Milady’s eyes turned to the wet nurse, whose cheeks pinkened at the attention.

‘Of course, Milady,’ Nancy replied, then turned to me. ‘Whateva y’ need, Miss Swan, I’ll make certain it comes.’ Her voice held the tell-tale notes of poor breeding and education, and I was struck by what a singularly strange choice of words she had used.

‘My thanks,’ I inclined my head, unable to think of anything more poignant to say.

The rest of the luncheon passed without much to report. At length I farewelled Lady Stanton, who took her leave quite promptly, and instead spoke with the wet nurse. I suggested that I should meet with her within the nursery to ascertain the abilities of my charges, so that I may seek the library out and prepare appropriate lessons for them.

‘They’s had no lessons, Miss Swan,’ Nancy said.

‘None at all? Not even Master Alexander?’

‘They’s had some, but the governess never stayed.’

I frowned. A boy of six should be able to read and do sums – at the very least. Why, I myself have been reading since the age of four.

‘Well, no matter, I should still like to ascertain their intelligences and interests – that way I shall tailor lessons to suit them.’

Nancy looked uncertain. ‘Very well, Miss Swan.’ With that she bobbed and withdrew with the children.

I waited a moment and inhaled as I stood, brushing down my dress as I did. I couldn’t help but think a little poorly of the Stantons’ apparent neglect of Alexander and Helen’s education. Why had they not hired a new governess if their previous one left? Did they not care for improvement of the minds of their children? I could not think such a thing possible. Had they not had made me a member of their household for the express purpose of educating their offspring? Of course they had; perhaps the fractured nature of Alexander’s education was due to some other factor to which I remain unenlightened.

I turned and left the room. As I walked down the corridor and headed towards the stairs to the third floor, where my rooms and the nursery would be found, I heard the most peculiar sound. To my left, a door remained ajar, but I could hear the soft sounds of feminine discussion being had from within.

Curiosity, I regret to say, is my greatest vice. I hesitated at the commencement of the stairwell, lingering just moment enough to try and hear who was in the room. Was it the housemaids going about their work?

There were hushed tones, followed by the swishing of skirts.

There was gentle laughter.

I stepped closer.

‘I’ve got work to do,’ a feminine voice said. Being new to the house I could not distinguish the voices between the servants.

‘Do you?’ another replied followed by a husky teasing laugh. ‘Don’t let me detain you then.’

Mayhap it was
not
housemaids? The timbre and accent of the voices suggested those of better breeding. I hesitated, inwardly battling with my unfeminine curiosity once more, and tried to discern whose voices spoke so softly within the room.

A new sound came to my ears just then; a sound that was wet and unexpected, but immediately cut by more husky laughter. ‘Touch me… you wicked woman.’

I stiffened abruptly, and instantly recoiled. My mind whirred, unable to comprehend the words and sentiment of the speaker. The surprising announcement was swiftly followed by the sound of cloth rapidly rustling.

‘Touch me, now, please.’ The voice was less soft now and much more insistent – and ultimately much more recognisable. Was it Lady Stanton?

‘Ceecee, I shan’t stop …’ the other female voice said.

‘No, never stop …’ Lady Stanton’s tone was pleading.

There was something about these words that made my stomach swoop. I didn’t understand what was going on behind that door, but I knew one thing above all else – I should move on. Listening any further would garner me no friends.

Perhaps I had just experienced something akin to that Latin concept of
instinctus –
an unconscious impulse and understanding – that I had read about once in my father’s library. For I knew, without knowing, that what I had heard was not fit for gentle ears. There was a definite carnality in the tones being spoken. At a party once in London, I’d heard whispers of a similar nature between a matron and her footman. I’d dismissed it as all very vulgar, and never thought of it again – but I remembered it now. I remembered the heat and longing in their voices. Not at all dissimilar to what I’d heard now. Yet, why one woman, Lady Stanton no less, should ask for another’s touch in such a pleading fashion was unfathomable and, I suspected, something most wicked. Thus it was, without any hesitation, I turned and left, abruptly hurrying up the stairwell as fast as my dress and tightened stays would allow.

I am an innocent and most chaste woman – there is not one who could possibly refute this. I strive for nothing more than improvement of the mind and that of my sex, and I shall remain so until death. Yet I am not completely unworldly with regards to those shameful matters of which we never speak.

As I have confessed, I am naturally most curious and I have found no boundaries to this curiosity. My readings on recent discoveries of biology have enlightened me to the mechanics of reproduction, at least on a superficial level. I know that males of most species are cursed with an at times insatiable drive for reproduction – and that the females are naturally much more demure. Knowing this, I have had the misfortune to witness on occasion low women going about their business as I have commuted from social visits about town. Their ribald calls to the male sex, their shamelessness in manner and slatternly dress. These women certainly did not seem demure, did they? Thus I could not help but wonder if I had mayhap overheard incorrectly? Had the most refined and proper Lady Stanton been craving for the touch of another
–
and a woman at that? Or was I mistaken?

For certain, I must have imagined it.

Certainly I must.

Or perhaps I was suffering some wicked delirium sent from the Devil to punish me for eavesdropping? Or was it simple fatigue after all my exertions over this new and exciting day? I simply do not know.

***

I am ashamed to admit the moral fortitude of Mrs Hester Chapone, which I have spent years carefully nurturing has failed me today. I fear that my attempt in assessing my young charges failed due to my inability to remain strong and focussed. Though it disappoints me to admit, I could no more stop thinking of the overheard conversation that I could stop breathing.

After a dismal attempt at assessment of the intellect of my charges, I shortly found myself dismissed to dress for dinner. As is the custom amongst certain families, the governess eats alongside the family, rather than with the servants. I had been unsure whether my connection with a noble but impoverished house would have been much noted by my employers, but clearly this was so.

I dressed in one of my finest gowns for dinner; a light muslin sprigged one, which my sisters had told me was very fetching. A housemaid came to assist me with my hair. She was a quiet nondescript sort, with an accent that hailed from somewhere quite north.

‘Evenin’ Miss Swan. I’m here t’ help you dress, Mrs Roberts sent me. I’m Jenny.’ She bobbed a welcome.

I smiled at her with warmth. I did not wish her to think that I had airs and graces above my station –despite my breeding, I like she, am a mere employee of this great house. It’s something I must not forget, especially around the serving folk.

‘Thank you,’ I said as she laced me into my stays and expertly coiffed my hair. I suspect this plain young Jenny may have aspirations to become a lady’s maid, so careful and attentive is she.

‘How do you find Stanton?’ I asked, as she wound one of my locks and pinned it delicately.

The maid looked startled to be addressed with such a question. ‘I …’ She hesitated, frowning at my hair. ‘I find it verra well, they’re kind here.’

‘Well, I am glad to hear it.’ I replied, and ended my questioning as the dinner bell rang.

Jenny led me to the dining room. I should have been able to find it perfectly well myself, but I allowed the girl the privilege of introducing me to the footman, who announced my entry to those already in the dining room.

‘Miss Martha Swan,’ the same handsome footman called as I entered. I threw him a thankful but modest smile and curtseyed to the other diners.

Lady Stanton was seated regally at the end of a large glossy table that veritably groaned under the weight of a heavy arrangement of flowers. Her lady’s maid, Miller, whispered something into her mistress’s ear, bobbed, then made to exit the room.

I thought it strange to have the lady’s maid in the dining room as the butler and footmen need only be present. Still, I am learning the customs of this house and ought to reserve my judgements for a later time.

As I observed the room, I saw Alexander, the eldest child, seated a few places up from his mother, an empty space – presumably for myself – beside him. At the other end of the table, a dashing man with sparkling blue eyes beamed appreciably at me

‘Miss Swan, may I introduce my husband, Lord William Stanton,’ Lady Stanton said formally.

I offered a polite curtsey and inclined my head with modesty. ‘I am honoured to meet you,’ I said, though I fear my voice trembled.

Lady Stanton inclined her head and continued. ‘Please, Miss Swan, if you would be so kind to sit beside Master Alexander.’ Lord Stanton gestured to his son.

I bobbed once more and moved swiftly towards the child. He looked relieved that I had come – though I am sure this was just fanciful thinking on my behalf.

‘Miss Swan, this is Alexander’s first time eating outside the nursery. I fear he is a little nervous.’

I looked down at my charge. Indeed, he looked rather pale and queer. No doubt the shift from nursery to dining room was daunting for one so young, with parents such as these.

My hand sought out his small one under the table. Though the weather was clement, his hand was veritably frozen. I squeezed it affectionately, hoping to ease and perhaps share sympathy at the nervousness I similarly suffered.

The slightly amused voice of my gentleman employer interrupted my thoughts. ‘How have you found your rooms, Miss Swan?’

Dreadful heat flooded my cheeks – a cursed weakness of mine to be sure. I loathed being caught in a daze. I drew up my fan and masked my response immediately.

‘Very well, thank you,’ I replied.

I dare say, at that moment Lord Stanton
grinned
at me. Certainly there could be no other description. I felt my breath hitch in surprise and fanned my cheeks once more.

‘I think you shall find the bed to your liking. The beds in Stanton offer a comfort like no other.’ He offered me another peculiar grin
.

I fanned my cheeks a third time to hide my discomfiture and averted my eyes modestly, quite unsure how to respond. I was certain there was some other meaning behind his words, but I simply didn’t grasp it.

Thus at length I replied, ‘Indeed, after a long day’s travel, one tends to find
any
bed to one’s liking. I shall be no different I suspect.’

Lord Stanton roared with laughter. ‘Well said, Miss Swan, I shall remember that.’ Yet again, I had the uncomfortable notion I had missed some
entendre
behind his words.

I glanced towards Lady Stanton, who seemed be watching me most carefully. Her eyes were shrewd and assessing, and did not demure from me once. Did she know I had overheard her in the parlour earlier? I struggled to refrain a grimace at the notion.

‘I believe your grandfather and mine were acquaintances, Miss Swan,’ Lady Stanton said after a moment, moving her thoughtful gaze to her husband.

I caught her gaze and nodded. ‘Yes, I believe that was so,’ I agreed. ‘My grandfather, God rest his soul, was a fine man – and one I should very much liked to have met.’ I paused and sipped at my wine. It was no doubt very fine, but I could find no benefit in it – not to my palate nor mind. ‘He was a very austere and well revered gentleman,’ I added. ‘I have found a paucity of such gentlemen in London. Indeed it is a pleasure to have come to the countryside to escape them.’