Read Rebel Mechanics Online

Authors: Shanna Swendson

Rebel Mechanics (4 page)

My heart sank. I knew I could teach Latin, Greek, French, literature, grammar, science, and mathematics, and I could even get by with music and drawing, although children of this class would have specialized drawing masters and music teachers. But the sort of social events that the aristocracy attended were well outside my experience. I wouldn't know how I should act, let alone what would be proper for my charges. I could learn, I told myself. I needed a job to have a roof over my head, and this would be a very comfortable roof.

“I believe I would be an excellent chaperone,” I said, willing it to be true.

She raised her eyebrow again, but she didn't challenge my assertion. Instead, she asked, “Do you have any questions about the children or the position?”

In novels, applicants never seemed to inquire what had become of their predecessors, and I'd always sworn I wouldn't make the same mistake. I doubted that the last governess had been killed or driven mad by a specter, but one never knew, and there had to be a reason a family this noble would consider someone as inexperienced as I was, so I squared my shoulders and asked, “If you don't mind telling me, why is the position now vacant?” I thought that sounded properly professional.

She gave another one of those little secret smiles. “There have been four governesses in the past year,” she admitted.

“What became of them?”

“Two of them were dismissed and two left of their own accord.”

“Do you know why?”

She glanced around, then leaned forward and whispered, “Lord Henry fancies himself a scientist. He has
Ideas
.” I could hear the capital letter in her voice, and I could tell from the way she wrinkled her nose that she didn't approve of said
Ideas
. I thought that might explain why she didn't consider the fact that Lord Henry approved of my application a mark in my favor.

“Ideas?” I asked nervously.

“About education and what is valuable for a young lady or gentleman to know. Two of the governesses proved not to live up to his standards.”

“And the others?”

“He's quite the amateur naturalist, with his primary interest in insects. And Lord Rollo is a boy.” She watched my face carefully as she said this, as though she wanted to see my reaction. Was she trying to scare me into rejecting the position?

“So the governesses found bugs in their bed and fled,” I concluded, making sure I didn't sound at all alarmed by this prospect. “I assure you, I shall do no such thing.” My suspicion that Mrs. Talbot was trying to dissuade me grew stronger when her lips puckered in distaste at my response.

A young man then entered the room. He didn't seem nearly old enough to be the master of this house—I didn't think he could be too far beyond his teens. He wore tweed sporting attire, carried a butterfly net under one arm, held a sketchbook in his hand, and had a pair of binoculars slung around his neck. His sandy brown hair was wavy and unruly, falling across his forehead, and his small, wire-framed spectacles gave him a scholarly appearance. There was a distracted manner about him, as though he'd been lost in thought and wandered in off the street without realizing he was in the wrong house.

He must have been in the proper home, though, because Mrs. Talbot sprang to her feet at his entrance, wincing as he tripped over the edge of the carpet and then barely steadied himself. “Mrs. Talbot!” he said, pushing his eyeglasses back up his nose. “I just found a particularly rare species of lacewing in the park. I wasn't able to catch it, but I believe I made a creditable likeness.” He opened his sketchbook to show her, dropping his butterfly net as he did so. When he bent to retrieve the net, he dropped the sketchbook, and it would have landed square in the middle of the tea tray if Mrs. Talbot hadn't rescued it. “Good catch, Mrs. Talbot,” he said with a laugh as he took it back from her. “I nearly spoiled your tea.” He then noticed me. “And you have company. Please forgive my intrusion.”

He started to leave, but Mrs. Talbot said firmly, “Lord Henry, this is one of the governess candidates, Miss Newton, the one from New Haven. She had an appointment this afternoon.”

“Oh dear, and I'm late. I forgot about that entirely. Do forgive me.” He turned and reached out his hand to take mine. He then had to pause and shift his sketchbook to his other hand, which made him drop his butterfly net again. When he bent to pick it up, I saw past his glasses and barely stifled a gasp. His ice-blue eyes flecked with gray and rimmed in dark blue were the same as those of the bandit from the train.

 

IN WHICH I LAND AMONGST MAGISTERS

Lord Henry didn't seem to notice my dismay. If he recognized me from the train, he gave no sign whatsoever. He was so calm, in fact, that I immediately began to doubt myself. He picked up his net, placed it and the sketchbook on the sofa, then took my hand and said, “I'm delighted to meet you, Miss Newton. Did your journey go smoothly?”

I recalled that the bandit had wished me a smooth journey. Was this question meant as a hint—or a warning? I felt like he was testing me. “It went smoothly enough,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even.

“I'm very glad to hear that.” He gathered up the butterfly net and sketchbook and said, “I should put my gear away. I will leave you ladies to tea and return momentarily to chat with Miss Newton.”

Mrs. Talbot gave a slight curtsy and said, “Yes, my lord.”

He shook his head. “Now, Mrs. Talbot, what do I keep telling you about that?”

“Yes, sir.” Her stiff tone indicated that she felt it wrong to be so casual with her employer, even if he was young enough to be her son.

He grinned. “That's better.” He headed out, grabbing a few tea sandwiches as he left, but paused in the doorway and turned back. “Miss Newton, I have a question for you.”

“Yes, sir?” My heart beat so hard I was afraid he could hear it. Would he ask about the train?

“Do you like bugs?”

That wasn't the question I'd anticipated, but thanks to my discussion with Mrs. Talbot, I wasn't taken aback. “I have yet to make fast friends with one.”

His lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Are you afraid of them?”

I looked him square in the eyes and said firmly, “No, not at all.” If he wanted to take that to mean I wasn't afraid of him either, he was welcome to do so.

He nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Good.” Without another word he wandered off, again with that distracted air.

“What did you think of Lord Henry?” Mrs. Talbot asked, resuming her seat.

I wasn't quite sure how to answer. “He seems too young to have three children, or children that old,” I said at last.

“They're not his. He's their guardian—their father's younger brother. Their mother died when the youngest was born, and when their father died a year ago, Lord Henry moved into the home to look after them.”

I doubted a man responsible for three orphans would go about such risky business as banditry when he clearly had no need of funds. I must have been mistaken. There were probably dozens of men in the city with similar eyes. I was surprised to realize I felt slightly disappointed. If I had to be a governess, working for a bandit would make my life much more exciting. Now I supposed I had to hope for something like a madwoman in the attic, or perhaps a ghost.

Lord Henry returned a moment later. He sat in the chair next to Mrs. Talbot's and said, “Now, Mrs. Talbot, if you don't mind, I'd like to speak with Miss Newton alone.”

She hesitated, and he said, “We're considering hiring her to chaperone Flora and Rollo. If you can't trust her alone with me, how can we trust her to supervise the children?” He gave me the slightest smile and added, “I assure you, her virtue is safe from me. You may stand in the hall if you wish to observe us.” Mrs. Talbot reluctantly left the room, but she lurked in the hallway.

“Are you familiar with the sort of education that is customarily given to girls of my class?” he asked.

“Enough French to travel on the Continent, some drawing or painting, and enough music to perform for others?”

“Exactly. That is how Flora has been educated. In company, she smiles prettily and says little. I know of far too many men who would find that admirable in a wife, but that is not the sort of man I want her to marry. That's why although she doesn't need a governess, she does need some enlightenment. Do you have any ideas for how to achieve that?”

I finally felt like I was on familiar ground. “She should read the newspaper daily, at least one good magazine weekly, and classic literature regularly. I could then converse with her about those things so she would be prepared for social occasions.” Although this was a proper interview, I felt like we were children playing house, talking about teaching someone barely younger than we were as though we were real adults.

He nodded enthusiastically and smiled. “Good, that makes sense. I would want you to do the same on a smaller scale with Rollo. He's getting a better education than she had, but I still feel it's lacking. With Olive, we have a chance to start her correctly. I've yet to find an adequate school for girls. I may resort to cutting her hair and dressing her as a boy so she can attend a decent school.” He glanced at the open doorway and gave a friendly wave toward Mrs. Talbot. “I'm afraid my housekeeper doesn't approve, but I want to make it clear that although she managed the correspondence for filling the position, you would report directly to me, not to her.”

He stood and extended a hand to assist me to my feet. “Now, would you like to meet the children?” He held his arm out to me, and I took it. He pointed out items of architectural interest as we made our way down the hall.

Inside a comfortable drawing room, a pretty, fair-haired girl played a grand piano while a lanky boy lay sprawled on the floor with schoolbooks in front of him. A little girl sat nearby with a book in her lap. The remnants of a tea were spread on a table in the middle of the room.

The smaller girl noticed us first. She jumped to her feet, crying out, “Uncle!” and ran to throw her arms around Lord Henry.

He tousled her brown curls and said, “Hello, Olive.” He then addressed the others. “Flora, Rollo, this is Miss Newton.”

The boy rose, came over to me, and bowed formally. “Roland Lyndon, Marquis of Westchester, at your service, miss,” he said.

“But we call him Rollo,” Lord Henry said. “We don't use titles at home.”

Flora merely nodded at me as she kept playing. She was quite good, both technically and in musicality. There was real depth to her interpretation of the music. I could see why her uncle felt she had the potential to be more than just a decorative object.

“Hello,” I said, feeling rather awkward. “It's a pleasure to meet all of you.”

Olive flung her arms around my waist. If my corset hadn't already been cinched so tightly, she would have knocked the breath out of me. “Are you going to stay with us?” she asked. My heart went out to this child, who had already lost both parents at such a young age.

I squeezed her in response and said, “That is for your uncle to decide.”

Lord Henry looked at me with surprise. “Oh, I thought you knew I was offering you the position. You do want it?”

I didn't know why I hesitated. I needed a job and a home, and this was my last option without starting my search anew. This was also the most beautiful house I'd ever seen and I'd already begun picturing myself living there. The only question was my nagging suspicion about Lord Henry. I studied his face again, and aside from his eyes, I saw nothing of the bandit. His way of walking, his mannerisms, even his voice were all different. The resemblance must have been my imagination.

“Why, yes, of course I do,” I said at last.

“Then we should discuss details such as salary and schedule. Children, you can get to know Miss Newton better at dinner.” He pried Olive's arms from around me, then patted her on the head before escorting me back to the morning room.

As we walked, he said, “We dine informally at home unless we're entertaining, and I do very little of that. You will join us, of course. That will be a good opportunity for the children to practice conversation. You'll keep to a normal school schedule on weekdays and will have Saturdays and Sundays free, aside from any social events where you would be needed as chaperone.”

It was more generous than I could have imagined—almost too good to be true. When he told me my weekly salary, I wanted to pinch myself. Back in the morning room, he informed Mrs. Talbot that I had accepted the position. “Please show Miss Newton to her room,” he instructed. He gave me a slight bow, squeezed my hand, and said, “Welcome to the family, Miss Newton,” before leaving me alone with Mrs. Talbot.

I collected my bag, then Mrs. Talbot took me upstairs to a pleasant little room at the back of the house. It was simply furnished with a bed, wardrobe, desk, and dresser, and had its own bathroom. “I suppose we should send for your belongings,” she said.

“I had my trunk held at Grand Central.”

“I'll have the coachman retrieve it. Now, I'll leave you to get settled. We serve dinner at seven. I know that's early, but Lord Henry likes to include Olive, and she has an early bedtime. There's no need to dress. Lord Henry doesn't stand on ceremony.” There was a distinct note of disapproval in her voice, and I wondered why she remained in his employ if she didn't like the way he did things.

When she was gone, I sank into the chair by the desk and allowed myself a long, deep sigh. I'd barely had time to remove my hat when Olive rushed into my room and flounced onto my bed. “I'm so glad you're staying,” she said. “I didn't like the last governess, but I like you.”

“You barely know me,” I said, trying to hide my amusement.

“But I know these things.” She dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper. “I have magical powers.” She bounced off the bed. “Would you like to see the house? I could show you.”

Other books

Dime Store Magic by Kelley Armstrong
Vatican Knights by Jones, Rick
Blood Rose by Margie Orford
Babe in Boyland by Jody Gehrman
Back to Bologna by Michael Dibdin
Songs of Love & Death by George R. R. Martin
Only for Us by Cristin Harber


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024