what?’
‘As our governess, of course. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, no! I—’
But Pip had darted off like a dragonfly.
‘You mustn’t be annoyed with Pip.’
Startled yet again, Octavia swung round, and began to wonder if she really was in a fairy tale, and this the enchanted princess. Standing behind her was a girl with one of the loveliest faces Octavia had ever seen. She had black hair like her sister, but her eyes were a deep purple-blue, the colour of violets. Every feature was perfect: a generous brow, a beautifully straight nose, delicately modelled cheekbones, rose-petal complexion, softly curving lips…The girl looked shy, and bore an indefinable air of sadness. The impulse to comfort her was almost overwhelming. A faint flush stained the girl’s cheeks as Octavia stared.
‘I…I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry. Only I’m sure Pip didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that she sometimes forgets her manners when she is in a hurry. My name is Lisette. Lisette Barraclough.’
‘I’m Octavia Petrie. How do you do.’
They exchanged curtsies. ‘Won’t you come in?’ Lisette asked. ‘I’m not sure it will do any good, Edward seems determined to have someone older, and he seldom changes his mind. But I’d like you to meet him.’
Octavia was not sure what stopped her from telling Lisette the truth about her visit to Wychford. Every canon of good manners demanded it, but she held back, intrigued by the situation, and highly interested in the two girls—the one so bright and spirited, the other so lovely, and so sad. So she said nothing as they set off up the drive.
‘I expect you’re wondering why we need another governess,’ said Lisette. ‘Edward engaged someone in London—someone who was very highly recommended to my aunt by the Marchioness of Ledbury.’
Octavia had met the Ledburys. No wonder Pip didn’t like Miss Froom, she thought. No one who had the approval of such a self-satisfied windbag as Lady Ledbury and her awful children could hope to please a lively spirit like Philippa Barraclough!
Lisette went on, ‘But hardly two days had passed before it was clear that Pip and Miss Froom would never get on, so Edward sent her away.’
‘Without a character. I heard.’
‘Is that what Pip told you? I’m afraid she was just romancing. Edward gave her a perfectly good reference.’
Octavia nodded. ‘I rather thought that might be the case. But what did your aunt have to say about it?’
‘She’s not here. She broke her leg and is still in Antigua. She won’t be able to travel for some time, so there’s only Edward here to look after us at the moment, and he is a very busy man. That’s why we need someone else so urgently.’
‘I see. In that case, wasn’t it rather hasty of your uncle to send Miss Froom away?’
‘Perhaps. But once Edward makes up his mind about anything he does things right off. He would have sent Miss Froom away the first night we got here, even though it was very late. He can be quite ruthless when he chooses. But I persuaded him to wait till the morning.’
Octavia began to dislike ‘Edward’. ‘Poor Miss Froom! To be sent away so summarily—’
‘Oh, no! She really wasn’t at all kind, Miss Petrie. But he did give her a month’s salary and saw to it that she was taken all the way to London.’
‘I suppose that helped. But do tell me. Who is “Edward”? Mr Barraclough?’
‘Yes. He’s our uncle, but he told us years ago to call him Edward. We are a great burden to him. At least for the next eight or nine weeks until our aunt arrives.’
‘I see.’
Lisette fell silent and Octavia was left to her own thoughts. The situation was becoming clearer. The two girls were not the Barracloughs’ daughters, but their nieces, and an accident had delayed Mrs Barraclough’s return to England. A governess had been engaged, but Edward Barraclough had decided to get rid of her, and was now looking urgently for someone else until his wife arrived. For about two months…Just two months…
They had reached the lawn in front of the house.
‘Miss Petrie, would you care to wait here for a moment? There’s a seat in the shade over there. Or shall I take you inside? Edward asked me to deliver a message to our housekeeper, and I should really do it straight away. It will only take me a minute.’
‘I think I should like to stay here,’ said Octavia. ‘This is all so beautiful…’
‘You think so, too? Miss Froom said the house looked dark and damp.’
‘Did she? Then the house didn’t like her,’ said Octavia without thinking. ‘That’s why she had to go.’
Lisette gave her a puzzled look, but didn’t stay to ask what she had meant. She ran across the lawn and into the house, and Octavia was left to contemplate her inheritance…It was quite extraordinary—Wychford seemed to be smiling! How could a house smile? Of course it couldn’t! It was just that the window-panes were twinkling in the sunlight.
She had a sudden vision of her aunt’s gipsy-black eyes staring at her, then turning to rest thoughtfully first on her father, and then on Lady Dorney, last spring. What had been in Aunt Carstairs’s mind? Here at Wychford Octavia suddenly saw what an excellent thing it would be if her father and his cousin decided to marry. They had always been close, and Lady Dorney was a caring, loving woman who needed companionship and someone to look after. Yes, it would be ideal. But it would never happen. Papa was too set in his ways—it simply wouldn’t occur to him to ask.
The windows were still twinkling, still reminding her of those black eyes. What a strange house it was! Octavia’s thoughts returned to her father. What if Lady Dorney could be persuaded to take her place for a while—two months, say? It might occur to her papa that his Cousin Marjorie was more comfortable to be with, more patient, easier to talk to, someone nearer to his own generation…
Two months. Would it be long enough? She was sorely tempted to try. She liked these Barraclough girls, and felt she could do something for them, especially as their uncle seemed to be something of a martinet. Should she go along with their assumption that she was a prospective governess?
Octavia jumped up and took a firm hold of herself. Twinkling windows, gipsy-black eyes, marriages, pretending to be a governess—where was her common sense? It was a mad idea! Her day of freedom had gone to her head! She would go inside to meet Edward Barraclough, and would inform him of her true identity before the mistake went any further. As Lisette approached her across the lawn the sun seemed to go in and Wychford’s window-panes were dull. There was an air of reproach about the house and Octavia had an absurd feeling of guilt.
Lisette led her through the oak door and into the hall. Octavia kept a firm hold on her imagination as she looked about her. The house was not huge and the hall was of manageable size, with a large refectory table down the middle and a fireplace at each end. It had a superb plaster ceiling and two massive, symmetrically placed, brass chandeliers. A handsome oak staircase led to the upper storey, with a gallery leading to the bed-chambers. But Lisette led her through
