Lois Menzel (6 page)

“Bring them,” Mrs. Saunders said. “We will drop them on our way.” Anne snatched up her bonnet and gloves, moving quickly to catch up with her employer. She had learned early in their acquaintance that one must hurry to keep up with Arelia Saunders.

The woman had boundless energy. She rose every morning at precisely ten o’clock regardless of what time she had gone to bed the night before. She ate a sparing breakfast, then left the house for a morning ride in the park. Afterward she would either be at home to visitors or take the carriage out to call upon her many friends. When she was not spending the afternoon with Belinda, she had numerous and varied social engagements. She would arrive home only in time to prepare for the evening’s entertainment, which often extended into the early hours of the morning. Each night before she went out, she came to visit Belinda, displaying her gowns to her daughter’s unending delight. “How beautiful you are, Mama!” the child would say. Anne could only agree.

As the coach lurched over the uneven pavement, Anne took comfort in knowing their destination was only a few minutes away. The books were soon deposited, and the ladies alighted before one of the city’s largest fabric warehouses.

“Belinda has grown so these past months that I swear her frocks shrink each day,” Arelia said. “I must order some things to see her through the summer. What do you think of this?” The jonquil sprigged muslin Arelia lifted from the bolt was lovely, and Anne said so.

Arelia nodded to the clerk at her elbow and he scribbled on a pad. Arelia bought several other dress lengths for Belinda and one length of burgundy French silk for herself before she asked Anne, “Have you any dresses lighter than that one?”

Anne glanced down at her plain brown dress, cut from serviceable twill. “I have several muslins, ma’am.”

“I do not mean lighter in weight, I mean lighter colors. I have never seen you wear anything but brown, black, and dark blue.”

“They are colors my father bought for me. They are practical—”

“Men should be practical, Miss Waverly; women are not expected to be.” Arelia fingered a piece of pearl gray fabric. “This would make up beautifully, and would be cool for summer.”

She ordered a dress length, and the man wrote it down. As Anne would have opened her mouth to protest, the man taking the order said. “Madam has a wonderful eye for color, that she does. You just trust her judgment.”

Anne stood by silently as her employer bought several more lengths of fabric for her—sky-blue calico, russet, and burgundy muslin.

Later, in the privacy of the coach, Anne found the courage to protest. “You cannot intend all this for me, Mrs. Saunders. I cannot possibly pay—”

“Nor need you. Tenbury provides livery for everyone else. I see no reason why you cannot have some attractive things.”

“But ma’am, colors are not suited to a governess’s station. Quiet, serviceable clothing is more proper.”

“In whose judgment? I don’t agree. Children should be surrounded with stimulating things; color is one of them. Wait to see how well you will look. In the end I know you will agree with me.”

Their next stop was at the dressmaker’s shop. There Anne submitted to having her measurements taken and recorded while Arelia chose patterns for the goods she had purchased.

Beyond Anne’s hearing the French seamstress spoke to her valued client. “She is too thin, this governess of yours, madam.”

“Yes, Collette, I agree. Cut the dresses generously, and I will see what I can do to put more flesh upon her bones.”

* * * *

The drive to Tenton Castle in northern Wiltshire took two days—two days during which Anne suffered almost continuously. She traveled with Belinda and found that keeping the child occupied helped put her own discomfort at bay.

Anne did not touch her meal the morning they departed. On the trip itself, she skipped meals as well, explaining to Belinda that she did not like traveling and had no appetite. Near the end of the second day, she was ready to swear she would never step into a carriage again.

Five carriages made the journey from London to Wiltshire, carrying the various members of the family as well as the servants and baggage. Anne’s carriage and one other had managed to stay together on the road. When they arrived in the early afternoon, Belinda leaned up to the window, exclaiming as the familiar landmarks streamed by. “There is the church ... and the bridge where Tom and I go fishing. And there is the lake. It is monstrous big. And deep, too. We have a boat, and Tom has promised to teach me to row this summer. Do you see that oak tree there? Tom can climb it, clear to that Y near the top.”

Anne made an appropriate response but was in no mood to admire the palatial splendor of Tenton Castle, a sprawling structure of gray towers, ornate turrets, and sparkling leaded windows.

Tenbury saw the coaches when they were still half a mile away and was waiting when the first one rolled to a stop before the Castle. Opening the door, he lifted a glowing Belinda under the arms and set her on the ground. He then held out a hand to Miss Waverly and frowned when he saw her pale, drawn face. She took his hand tentatively and reached one foot toward the carriage step. It was then that her knees buckled, and Tenbury caught her as she collapsed into his arms.

Lady Tenbury hovered inside the great front doors as the earl carried Anne inside.

“What has happened, Tenbury? Who is this woman?”

“This is the new governess, Mother. I believe she has fainted.”

“The poor thing,” her ladyship said sympathetically. “Take her directly up to her room. I have put her next to Belinda.”

When Anne opened her eyes again, she found she was being carried by Lord Tenbury as he mounted a flight of stairs. His arms banded her firmly—one beneath her knees and the other behind her shoulders. Her body was pressed intimately against his chest. When he reached the top she said quietly, “Please, put me down, my lord.”

“When we have reached your room, I will do so, Miss Waverly.”

Embarrassed both by her weakness and by her proximity to him, she persisted, “It is not necessary—”

“Don’t concern yourself. You weigh no more than a child; you are costing me no effort.”

She subsided in silence. At the end of a long corridor Tenbury carried her through a door into a sunlit room and laid her on top of the bed. When he straightened, Anne noticed the silver-haired lady at his elbow.

“This is my mother, Miss Waverly—the Countess of Tenbury. I will leave you in her care. I hope you feel better soon.”

Anne made no reply, but when he was gone she turned to the countess. “I must apologize, Lady Tenbury. I am so sorry. I believe I must have fainted. I cannot imagine why.”

“Traveling is tiresome—all that jolting about,” the countess replied in a quiet, sympathetic voice. “I think it would be best if you simply rest here for the remainder of the day. I will have cook send up a light meal. After a good night’s sleep, we will hope to find you much restored in the morning.”

“Thank you, ma’am. You are very kind.” A short time later Anne ate and then slept straight through till the morning. But her sleep was disturbed by dreams—dreams of a carriage that rolled on and on, never stopping, never allowing a moment’s peace.

* * * *

Anne awoke when a young maid delivered her breakfast on a tray. The aroma of freshly buttered toast and strong tea brought her fully awake as she pulled herself up in bed.

“Good morning, miss,” the maid said as she set the tray on a table and bobbed a curtsy.

“Good morning,” Anne replied. “Is Miss Belinda awake? Has she eaten?”

“She had her breakfast an hour ago, miss, and has gone off with Master Thomas. Mrs. Saunders said I was to tell you there would be no lessons for her today what with the unpacking and all.”

“That is probably best,” Anne agreed. “She would likely be too excited to apply herself.”

“So Mrs. Saunders thought, miss. She hopes that if you are feeling better, you might join her in the morning room when you have finished dressing.”

“I’m feeling well, thank you. Your name is?”

“Cassie, miss. Maid to Miss Belinda, and to you too, Miss Waverly, should you need me. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you, Cassie. I will be fine on my own.”

As the maid dropped a quick curtsy and left the room, Anne hurried from her bed and surveyed her breakfast tray. She devoured eggs and tender ham as well as toast generously spread with butter and strawberry preserves. She sipped tea as she hurried into a black gown she had acquired after her father’s death. She quickly fastened her hair in its severe style and then went to join Mrs. Saunders downstairs.

Outside her room, a narrow corridor laid with a crimson carpet stretched in both directions. Not knowing which way to turn to find the main stairs, she chose left. At the end of the hallway the corridor made a left-hand turn, then continued as before. Further along this hallway another crossed at right angles, while the passageway she had been following continued straight ahead. Within minutes she realized she was hopelessly lost. Fortunately, she encountered an upstairs maid who turned her in the proper direction.

She was soon descending the main stairway into the great hall, a massive room three stories high. The broad stairway, wide enough for ten persons to walk abreast, was supported throughout its descent by giant pillars rising from the floor of the hall below. Anne laid her hand along the cold marble balustrade as she slowly descended. She turned as she had been directed to a pair of doors flanked by two sets of ancient armor, while one of the footmen on duty moved to open them for her.

The morning room was a splendid combination of predominantly red carpets and pale blue furnishings. Numerous paintings covered the walls, nearly obscuring the design of the paper beneath. A small fire was dwarfed by the massive stone fireplace in which it burned. Over the mantel hung a life-sized, full-length portrait of a man robed in seventeenth-century splendor.

Arelia Saunders looked up as the doors opened and immediately rose to come forward and greet Anne. “You are admiring Torquil Saunders, a mere viscount when this was painted,” she said. “He was faithful to the Royalist cause and created first Earl of Tenbury for his support of the king. Come and sit down, Miss Waverly; you are looking positively pale. I was sorry to hear you had a difficult journey. Did you sleep well? Are you fully recovered?”

“I am feeling better, thank you,” Anne replied. “But I fear I slept overlong and neglected my duties.”

“Pish! What duties can there be on one’s first day in the country? It is a day meant for sleeping and recovering from the rigors of a long carriage ride. You met Lady Tenbury, I believe?”

“Yes. Briefly, when I arrived. She was most kind.”

“She invariably is. Always the first to make allowances for one’s behavior, and always settling disputes in her quiet way. She came down to Tenton nearly two months ago with my son. Tenbury granted him a holiday in return for his promise to apply himself to his studies when his new tutor takes charge. Tom is not a model student, I fear.”

“So I understand.”

“Ah. The servants will talk, I suppose. I can’t say that I mind gossip so long as it is not malicious.”

“Has his lordship found a tutor for your son?”

“Indeed, he has. I hope to meet him this morning. He is the younger brother of our rector, and a man of the cloth himself. He has recently come to stay with his brother’s family and is helping with our parish of St. Stephen’s. Perhaps you should stay and meet him. Then later you must meet Tom. He is always up to mischief, never having the slightest interest in anything civilized. He seldom—”

The morning room doors opened and the butler intoned, “Mr. Dennis Pearce, madam.”

While introductions and pleasantries were exchanged, Anne took stock of the new tutor. Being a man of average height and build, he stood only a few inches taller than Mrs. Saunders. Few costumes could be more severe than the black worn by men of the church, yet Mr. Pearce displayed the color well. His dark brown hair showed a few streaks of gray at the temples. As he greeted Anne, she noticed that his brown eyes under thick dark brows seemed uncomfortably omniscient: the sort a person dreaded on Sunday morning after having participated in wrongdoing during the week. His voice was pleasantly warm and friendly.

“Was there anything specific you wished to discuss with me, Mrs. Saunders?” he asked.

“No. I merely wanted to meet you and to wish you luck. Thomas will not be an easy pupil.”

“His lordship did mention that.”

“His past history does not intimidate you?”

“Not in the slightest, ma’am.”

“Good. You don’t lack for courage. I admire that.”

He half smiled at this remark, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’m pleased, I’m sure, that I meet with your approval. Was there anything else?”

“Only that you should settle with Miss Waverly on a time for Tom’s French lessons. She has agreed to teach the children together.”

“Very well.”

When he was gone Anne remarked, “What a pleasant man.”

“They are all pleasant in the beginning,” Arelia said. “It is remarkable what a week or two of dear Tom can do to the most amiable of men.”

* * * *

Anne met Thomas the following day, and during the next week saw him regularly. She found that he was, in most ways, much like the young boys her father had occasionally tutored in Ripley. Although Tom was fair like his mother, Anne saw little of his mother’s countenance in his features. She thought instead that he greatly resembled Lord Tenbury. He was an active boy, never seeming to sit still for a moment. Anne was rather relieved that it was Mr. Pearce and not she who would have the task of settling Thomas to his studies.

Belinda had been granted a holiday coinciding with her brother’s. Anne therefore had nothing but free time on her hands. When she encountered the children, she was inclined to show an interest in whatever they were doing at the moment. Nothing could have served better for creating a bond between them.