Regency Surrender: Passion And Rebellion. Louise Allen
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‘Ah, here is Miss Goodrum,’ Lord Myers said into the hushed silence. ‘As you can see, ma’am, the truants have returned. I have decided they will receive no more than a warning for this day’s escapade, but I shall not be so lenient in future.’
‘I dare say no harm was done,’ Sarah replied. ‘It was a perfect day for fishing after all. Since we did not arrive until half the day was done, it would have been a shame to waste it all indoors. I am hoping to walk with you both on pleasant days. There is no need to sit at a desk to learn. We can observe nature and practise our Latin verbs while on a walk, John—and I think you, Francesca, may find the discussion of your favourite poets as interesting in a meadow as a musty schoolroom.’
The girl’s cheeks went white and then pink. She was clearly undecided whether to show appreciation or hold on to her reserve.
‘Mr Morton made me spend the whole morning doing exercises while he sat in his chair and read a book,’ John exclaimed indignantly. ‘I want to play games and do things.’
‘So you shall.’ Sarah and Lord Myers spoke at
the same time. ‘There are many ways to learn,’ Sarah finished while the mentor looked at her through narrowed eyes.
‘What about me?’ Francesca gave them a sulky look. ‘What am I supposed to do?’
‘Learn some manners for a start,’ Lord Myers said. ‘You’ve neither of you welcomed Miss Goodrum to Cavendish Park.’
‘She didn’t have to come here.’ Francesca said rudely. ‘I’m too old for the schoolroom.’
‘That is why I intend to teach you to dance,’ Sarah said, unruffled by the girl’s sulky manner. ‘We should discuss society and what kind of people you may encounter—and the conversations you may have with friends and acquaintances. Also, you will need to know how to spot a rake and how to avoid being compromised by ruthless gentlemen.’
Francesca’s eyes opened wide. She stared in disbelief, her mouth slightly parted. ‘What did you say?’
‘We shall naturally discuss poetry and literature and you will need to practise your drawing, embroidery and the instrument of your choice—but learning to dance, to enter a room, to curtsy and to hold your own when a gentleman flirts with you is very important. You will need those skills before you have your Season.’
‘You don’t want me to write an essay on the decline of the Roman Empire or conjugate French verbs?’
‘I imagine you’ve had a varied and extensive education. We can discover the boundaries of your knowledge together in conversation. A young woman of fashion must be able to converse intelligently, do you not agree, my lord?’
Sarah risked a look at Lord Myers, who was watching her with narrowed eyes. She was not sure whether they expressed suspicion or disbelief.
‘Most young ladies of my acquaintance are too missish to say boo to a goose. They repeat phrases parrot-fashion and then lapse into embarrassed silence if asked a question.’
‘Too harsh, my lord!’ Sarah laughed, her face lighting with amusement. ‘Well, I shall hope that Francesca will have more to say for herself on her debut. If she has not, I shall have failed in my duties.’
‘Remarkable...’ Lord Myers’s eyes held a look of calculation. ‘Francesca, I think you have been more fortunate than any of us imagined in your new governess. My only question is—how did Lady Mary ever bring herself to part with you?’
Sarah refused to lower her eyes. He was probing, trying to get beneath her skin, but she would not allow him that privilege.
‘Lord Myers is using mockery, Francesca,’ she said in a calm and composed manner. ‘Were I a young woman of fashion I might do one of two things. If I wished to encourage him, I might give him an enigmatic smile and flirt with my fan—or, if I wish to discourage his advances, I should raise an eyebrow and move on without answering.’
‘Here endeth the first lesson,’ Lord Myers drawled. ‘It is actually good advice, Francesca. May one ask which you would have chosen, Miss Goodrum?’
‘I shall leave that to your imagination, my lord,’ Sarah replied, but was relieved when the door opened and the housekeeper entered accompanied by two maids, each of whom carried a tray. ‘Ah, here is our tea. Would you like to play the hostess, Francesca?’
Francesca shot her a nervous look, but took her seat next to a small occasional table. Mrs Brancaster set up her butler’s tray, exchanged a few words with Lord Myers, looked curiously at Sarah and left, taking one of the maids with her.
‘You are aware that you begin with the lady of first rank,’ Sarah told Francesca as her hand hovered. ‘However, since I am the governess, you should begin with Lord Myers and then me and then your brother. Were there several ladies of rank you should attempt to serve the highest rank first and then, when all the ladies are served, go on to the gentlemen and begin again in the same way.’
‘Miss Goodrum may be correct,’ Lord Myers said. ‘But in my opinion ladies are always first—of whatever rank. You may serve Miss Goodrum tea first, Francesca.’
Sarah shot a look at him, but did not contradict him. ‘I take my tea with lemon, no milk or sugar,’ she said and smiled as Francesca lifted the heavy pot. The girl’s hand trembled slightly but she accomplished the ceremony without accident, handing the cup to the maid who delivered it to Sarah, and serving Lord Myers next. He asked for milk and one sugar and then accepted a sandwich and fruit tartlet from the hovering maid.
After everyone had been served with tea and cake, Francesca looked at Sarah. She inclined her head and the maid was dismissed.
‘Did your last governess take tea with you both?’
‘No, she preferred to take hers in the kitchen,’ John answered, a trifle indignant. ‘Fran and me had most of our meals in the nursery together. The only time the drawing room was used was when Grandfather came down and we had guests. Mrs Brancaster served us then—or sometimes Cousin Agatha.’
‘Fran and I,’ Sarah gently corrected. ‘Your cousin visits you from time to time?’
‘Only at Christmas,’ John said. ‘We’ve been on our own for years, haven’t we, Fran?’
‘Yes.’ Francesca sipped her tea. She had crooked her little finger in an affected way, but as she looked at Sarah and saw that she held her cup in a more relaxed manner she did the same. ‘We’re both bored. Why can’t we have friends here to picnics and dances?’
‘We might have a dance on your seventeenth birthday. It’s a few weeks before Christmas,’ Lord Myers said. ‘If you attend to your dancing lessons and whatever else Miss Goodrum has to teach you, you may be ready then. We might start to entertain a few visitors, though—just to dinner and cards or some such thing.’
‘The weather is beautiful,’ Sarah said. ‘I think a picnic for your neighbours would be ideal as a way of letting people know we are receiving calls and visits. The best way to become accustomed to company is to invite them into your home. Does a picnic appeal to you, John?’
‘Can we have games and races? We went to the fete at the vicarage last summer—Fran and I won the three-legged