A Very Unusual Governess. Sylvia Andrew

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СКАЧАТЬ Carstairs and her house were also the subject of discussion between Rupert, fourth Earl of Warnham, and his daughter, the Lady Octavia Petrie. The day was cool, and Lord Warnham, who was in his seventies and felt the cold, pulled his shawl closer round his shoulders and gave his daughter a worried frown. In his gentle way he said, ‘I wish your Aunt Carstairs had not left you Wychford, Octavia. It was most inconsiderate of her. I knew it would be a burden!’

      ‘But, Papa, I assure you, I don’t find it any sort of burden.’

      ‘How can that be? You tell me that you must go to see it next week. All that way through the countryside to see a house that can be of no conceivable use to you! Of course it is a burden. She should not have done it. If she had consulted me in the matter I would have advised against it. She cannot have thought of the worry it would be to you to possess a house like that.’

      ‘Papa, it is no worry at all! I am very happy to be the owner of Wychford.’

      ‘But you cannot possibly keep it. You have no notion of what it means to look after a large house!’

      ‘I look after this one, Papa.’

      ‘That is quite a different matter, my dear. This is your home, and you have me to protect you.’

      Octavia Petrie permitted herself a wry grin. It might be her home, but it was her father who needed protection. Even the most trivial of problems worried him. Much as she loved her elderly parent, she found shielding him from unnecessary distress far more demanding than looking after a house, however large it might be. She set about reassuring him.

      ‘Wychford won’t cause me any trouble, Papa! You know it won’t. The Barracloughs are to rent it for six months, as Aunt Carstairs wished. The agreement is signed and sealed, and so far I have had nothing at all to do. Mr Walters has dealt with it all.’

      ‘Walters is a good fellow. An excellent man of business! But he has done no more than he should. It would not be at all the thing for a lady to be concerned in property agreements and such matters. But I still cannot like it. Your Aunt Carstairs should have left her house to someone else. You would do much better to stay at home with me next Tuesday and let Walters get rid of it for you.’

      Octavia smiled. Her father must be unique among parents. No other man would find it distressing that the youngest of his eight children, twenty-two and still single, had been left a large estate, including a house, by her godmother. But Lord Warnham’s intense dislike of any threat to his unvarying routine quite blinded him to the advantages of such a handsome inheritance. Octavia hardened her heart and said firmly,

      ‘I am not so very young, Papa. I shall be three and twenty next spring. And I really shan’t find it a burden to make a simple visit to Wychford. I merely wish to see the house before the Barracloughs arrive. It will take less than a day.’

      ‘A day! You must not be so foolhardy! It is all of ten miles.’

      ‘Fifteen. But it is still quite light in the evenings and the roads are good—’

      ‘You would subject yourself to travelling thirty miles in one day! I will not hear of it! Even with a closed carriage—’

      ‘Oh, I would take the gig. I’d like to drive myself. Will Gifford would accompany me, of course.’

      This suggestion so outraged the Earl that it took several minutes of Octavia’s most skilful coaxing before he could be brought to resign himself to her absence. Eventually he said wistfully, ‘I suppose you will have to go, but I shall miss you.’

      ‘I hardly think so, Papa. Have you forgotten that Cousin Marjorie arrives tomorrow? You like her, don’t you?’

      ‘She is a very pleasant person, certainly, and plays whist and cribbage better than you do. You know you can be a little impatient, my dear. Yes, I like Marjorie.’ He sighed and added, ‘I can see you are quite set on this escapade, Octavia, so I shall say no more on the subject. But I do wish that Mrs Carstairs had not left you her house. I cannot understand why she did!’

      ‘Nor can I, Papa. Though…she did say when she was last here that Wychford would like me.’

      The shawl dropped off her father’s shoulders as he sat up and stared. ‘Wychford would like you? A house liking someone? What a very strange thing to say! But then, I was often puzzled by the things she said. She did not resemble your dear mama at all.’

      ‘No, indeed! Harry and I were afraid of her when we were children. We used to call her the Witch of Wychford. But I got to know her better when she was here last spring, not long before she died. She…she seemed to understand…’

      Octavia fell silent. It was true that there had been something witch-like about her mother’s half-sister. Though nothing had been said, she, of all the family, had seemed to divine Octavia’s growing restlessness, her boredom with life at Ashcombe. Octavia had found Mrs Carstairs’s gypsy-black eyes resting on her more than once and had wondered what the old lady had been thinking. But it had certainly never occurred to her that her godmother would leave her Wychford.

      ‘Understand? What is there to understand?’

      ‘Nothing, Papa. Nothing at all.’

      ‘A very odd person. Why should she leave you her house?’ He was obviously still struggling to understand. ‘What do you need a house for? Surely you’re happy enough here?’

      Octavia longed to say, ‘I’m bored, Papa! I sometimes think I shall go mad with boredom!’ But she was a kindhearted girl and genuinely fond of her father, so she merely said, ‘Of course. And I have no intention of living at Wychford, Papa. In any case I couldn’t. The Barracloughs take possession in just a few weeks’ time.’

      ‘Who are these Barracloughs? Do I know them?’

      ‘Old Mr Barraclough was a friend of Uncle Carstairs. They knew each other in Antigua. They are now both dead, of course, but the present Barracloughs have some daughters, who are to be presented next year.’

      ‘That seems a very odd sort of arrangement. But the Barracloughs sound respectable enough.’

      ‘They are extremely respectable, Papa. Mr Walters has had the highest reports of their standing in Antigua, and Mr Barraclough is at present in London working as a temporary adviser to the Foreign Office. I am very unlikely to meet them. Certainly not this time, for they won’t be there.’

      ‘Well, I suppose you must go. I shall do as well as I can with Marjorie.’

      Octavia laughed at his tone of resignation. ‘You’ll do very well indeed, Papa!’

      ‘You must see to it that she has the tapestry bedroom. She likes that.’

      ‘Indeed, she does. She has used it every time she has paid us a visit for the past twenty years!’ Octavia shook her head at her father in affectionate exasperation. ‘Really, Papa! What do you think of me? The room has been ready for two days now. It only needs fresh flowers, and I shall put those in it tomorrow before she arrives.’

      ‘And a warming pan for the bed, Octavia! Remind the housekeeper to make sure the bed is properly aired!’

      ‘I shall do nothing of the sort! I have no wish to offend Mrs Dewey. If I know her, there’s a hot brick in the bed already, and it will be renewed tomorrow. You may be easy.’

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