The Tempting Of The Governess. Julia Justiss

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СКАЧАТЬ she said, ‘Who cared for them during their long journey?’

      ‘A couple returning to England—whom they had not previously met before the journey began.’

      Olivia angled her head at him, frowning. ‘They travelled all alone across the ocean without a single companion they knew? Those poor little mites! They must have been terrified! Surely they had a nurse at home. Why was she not sent—?’

      As the Colonel raised his eyebrows, Olivia realised that, once again, she was questioning her employer as an equal, rather than merely listening, as befitted an employee. With difficulty, she pressed her lips together and went silent.

      ‘A good question to which I doubt there is a charitable answer,’ he said drily. ‘You are...rather outspoken, are you not? The governesses I encountered in India all seemed to be meek, retiring creatures who barely had a word to say for themselves.’

      ‘I’m afraid I’m not at all retiring, Colonel. I ran my mother’s household until...until her recent demise and am quite used to being in charge.’

      A glimmer of a smile flickered on his lips and lit his eyes before his expression turned sombre again. Unexpected—and unexpectedly engaging—that tiny spark of warmth raised her flagging spirits, like a candle illumining a dark room.

      Even solemn, with a thin, care-worn face, she had to allow the Colonel was attractive. An aura of command surrounded him, subtly proclaiming this was a man used to making decisions, acting upon them and expecting others to obey. He had none of the charm or charisma of her friend Emma’s handsome husband, Lord Theo, but his air of competence and absolute dependability was unexpectedly appealing.

      And she had no business finding her new employer attractive or appealing. While she was reminding herself of this fact, he said, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

      Her throat gone suddenly tight, she merely nodded. His comment was too sharp of a reminder of just how much she had lost—not only her mother, but her home, position, friends and the future she’d always expected would be hers.

      He stood, signifying the interview was over. ‘I shall appreciate any help you can give in making the children feel more at ease during their stay at Somers Abbey. Mansfield will take you to meet Mrs Wallace, the housekeeper, who will see that you have dinner and show you to your room.’

      ‘Are you not going to take me to meet the children?’

      ‘Mrs Wallace will do so, if they are still awake after you’ve dined.’

      Finding that odd, Olivia said, ‘Are they not brought down to visit you in the evenings, after you return from working on the estate?’

      ‘No. I often don’t return until well after dark. Mrs Wallace believes children do better if they are kept on a regular, dependable schedule. As I am almost a total stranger to them, there really is no need for them to see me.’

      ‘But you said you were their last remaining relative...’

      The quelling look the Colonel gave her had her words trailing off. Though there was a good deal more she’d like to know on the subject, she stifled the questions. She’d meet her charges, coax out their feelings on the matter, then decide whether or not to bring it up again with their guardian.

      She might now be an employee, but she was never going to be meek or retiring.

      The Colonel was a military man, used to the company of rough soldiers and adventuresome officers. Like many men, he was probably not accustomed to dealing with children, especially young and female ones.

      However, as she knew only too painfully, coping with the loss of your entire world was frightening and devastating—and she was an adult. Being the sole remaining relative of two small girls who had recently lost theirs, he should be making a greater effort to help them adjust.

      A few minutes later, Mansfield arrived to conduct her to her room.

      It appeared the main part of the manor was medieval, to which several additions had been added. She followed the old man around a maze of twisting corridors and up a flight of stairs, down a draughty hallway to what looked like a wing of bedchambers. At least she was to be given a proper room, rather than a garret in the attics.

      The room itself was large but spartan, containing only a bed, a single dresser with a washbowl on it, and a wardrobe. Perhaps it was the approaching shadows playing over the few pieces of furniture in a room that had obviously once contained many more that gave it such a bleak air, but it was also dusty, she noted in disapproval. Since the household obviously knew of her arrival, that didn’t give her a very high opinion of the housekeeper.

      A knock at the door was followed by the entrance of a kitchen maid bearing a tray, which she set on the single side table beside the bed. She was followed by a tall, thin, dark-haired woman in a lace cap with a chain of keys hanging about her neck. ‘Your supper, Miss Overton,’ the woman said, giving her a slight curtsy, to which Olivia responded in kind. ‘I am Mrs Wallace, the housekeeper.’

      As if the keys worn on a chain hanging about her neck didn’t identify her quite clearly, Olivia thought. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Wallace. Will I also meet my new charges this evening?’

      ‘No, the Misses Glendenning have already retired. Their nursery is further down this corridor. Mary, here, will show you to it after she brings up your breakfast in the morning. Goodnight, Miss Overton.’

      That was it? No welcome, no ‘let me know if you need anything’? Olivia swallowed hard. Yet another reminder that she was no longer a guest to be accommodated, but simply another employee.

      ‘Goodnight, Mrs Wallace, Mary.’ She smiled at the maid who, apparently startled by her notice, smiled back—before she caught the sharp eye of the housekeeper fixed on her, dropped a quick curtsy and scurried out.

      Lighting a candle—fortunately, the derelict house seemed to at least provide candles—against the gathering gloom, Olivia shivered as she sat on the bed. The stone walls seemed as chilly as her greeting.

      She hoped the poor children’s room was more inviting. In any event, this house needed a large infusion of light and cheer, and beginning tomorrow, she was going to provide it—regardless of what her distant employer and his stiff-necked housekeeper might want.

      She could use some cheer herself. As the weariness of long travel loosened the tight grip with which she’d been containing all the devastation of loss, grief and fear for the future bottled up within her, she felt tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. Alone, with no one to witness her breakdown, she wrapped her arms around her pillow and wept.

      Some time in the night, as she huddled in her bed, counterpane pulled up over her head for warmth, Olivia woke with a start, conscious of a sense of alarm. What had roused her from a deep, exhausted sleep?

      Pulling the covering from over her head, she heard it again—a soft, distant, mournful noise that sounded almost like—weeping.

      The hairs rose on the back of her neck. Did this near-empty house contain—ghosts?

      Given СКАЧАТЬ