Chapter 11 #3
“We’re just trying to advise you.” Merritt leaned closer. “You were ill-used by that cunning baggage you were once engaged to. But that’s all in the past. You were young; no one blames you. It’s time to find an innocent young viscount’s daughter, someone who will swoon at your attention.”
“Or at least swoon at your houses and your money.” Markeley had changed since they were schoolfellows of fourteen or fifteen. He used to have a kind heart. Now he was more or less like everyone else of his acquaintance. They both were.
A servant was coming down the hall, so they parted quickly. And now that he was alone, he thought some more about Charlotte Robbins inheriting a fortune.
Lady Derringer had yet to say anything about his inviting Miss Robbins to his house party except that she liked her. After she met her, Lady Derringer had said, “She’s a very lovely young woman, intelligent, with an easy and kind way about her. It’s a pity she has no fortune.”
If Miss Robbins did have a fortune, she could do as she wished, go where she liked, and see all the things she’d ever wanted to see. She would have more choices and could live her life as she wished.
All her life she’d been limited to staying in her little village and teaching at the same school where she grew up, or else taking her chances on finding a position as a governess.
And he knew, from all the stories he’d heard, that governesses often were preyed upon by someone at the house where they were employed, usually the master of the house, or one of the older sons. A governess had no one to protect her.
But a fortune of her own would change all of that.
Lady Derringer often asked him if she could be of service introducing him to young ladies.
It seemed wise to employ his aunt’s help in introducing his governess into society.
And it gave him great pleasure to give Charlotte that chance to dance and enjoy herself, to see the smile on her face.
When had she ever been able to have a holiday from teaching and enjoy the kind of indulgent pleasures that he and his social set took for granted every day?
Extravagant dinners, long conversations, walks in the park, dancing and playing and singing?
As it turned out, she did have quite a bit of experience with playing pall mall.
He imagined Miss Robbins being sought after, befriended by people who previously would never have spoken to her.
He pictured her meeting Markeley and Merritt in London.
How they might fall all over themselves trying to win her attention.
They might even ask to marry her if her fortune was large enough.
And he would laugh when she rejected them.
Yes, he was still conceited enough to believe that she would prefer to marry him over Merritt and Markeley.
They had a connection, did they not? He felt as if she knew him and he knew her, that they were similar enough in temperament and priorities that they could fall in love and live happily together.
But even if she did not choose him, it would give him pleasure to see her happy.
A thought had been lurking in his mind. Was he unselfish enough to simply wish to see Miss Robbins happy, to see her free to make her own choices?
Already a plan was forming in his mind. But it would take time to implement, and he might need to ask his aunt for her help.
He wasn’t sure how she would react, but if anyone was willing to help him, it was her.
Besides, he would need someone with discretion, and he knew no one more discreet than Lady Derringer.
His heart swelled as he saw Charlotte, in his mind’s eye, smiling and full of joy. And he suddenly wanted that more than he wanted anything else.
The next day it rained, and I decided to forgo my walk. I spent the morning writing letters and talking with Millicent over a shared pot of tea in Mrs. Merryweather’s alcove that she allowed me to use.
“I can’t believe Rose Rutledge said that,” Millicent whispered, even though the door was closed and we were alone. “She obviously feels threatened by you.” Millicent took a sip of her tea, staring at the wall behind me.
I wanted to ask her if she thought it was at all possible that Lord Brookhaven wished to marry me. But I was sure I knew the answer; she did not. If she’d thought it was possible, she would have said so.
Why was I even thinking like this? An earl didn’t marry his governess. Never ever. He might marry a tradesman’s daughter, although that was quite rare, but never a governess. No, as threatened as Rose Rutledge might feel, Millicent was right.
“Lord Markeley and Mr. Merritt were flirting with you so much during the game yesterday.” Millicent grinned at me. “Were you not flattered by their attentions?”
“They were friendly, but I didn’t consider it flirting.”
“Oh, believe me, they were flirting.”
But neither of them would marry me either.
I could imagine from her expression that that was exactly what Millicent was thinking.
Unless they were a first son with a fortune of their own, they’d be trying to marry an heiress, or a lady with a large dowry.
It was the way things were done to ensure one did not lose one’s gentility or the approval of society and one’s relatives.
I thought about my list of marriage prospects. As much as I had enjoyed socializing with ladies and gentlemen this week, including an earl and a viscount, I knew that list represented my only real prospects for marriage.
The only remaining ones were butler, head gardener, land steward, and vicar.
But I should probably cross off the butler, for I simply couldn’t imagine marrying him.
He was so severe and even cruel to the lesser servants, and he allowed the chef to treat the kitchen servants very badly—and he used very foul language when he was talking under his breath and thought no one could hear him.
That meant my only remaining prospects were the head gardener, the vicar, and the steward. But as I thought about each of them, I felt tears sting the back of my eyes. How could I marry any of them when I was in love . . . with Lord Brookhaven?
Millicent was telling me everything Lord Markeley had said to her the day before. My mind had wandered but she hadn’t noticed, as she spoke with an enraptured expression. She could dream of marrying the viscount. She at least had a chance with him. I, on the other hand, did not.
I sipped my tea and tried not to dwell on what I would do if the head gardener, the land steward, and the vicar were all already married or otherwise unacceptable.
Would I leave Lowndesbury House and find another position elsewhere?
I didn’t wish to leave Samuel or Annabelle, especially since they had been abandoned so many times already.
And the thought of leaving Lord Brookhaven made my chest ache.
Truly, I had set myself up for heartbreak.
I stared out the window at the falling rain and sighed. My longing for home and the familiar faces at Mrs. Southey’s school seemed to be competing with my pain at leaving Lowndesbury House. But such was the life of a governess, I suppose.