A Most Unusual Governess (9 page)

Sarah's attention, however, did not suit Miss Wilberforce. Before long she joined in the conversation. 'For if there is one thing I enjoy,' she declared when she had grown tired of being affronted by the mention of Mr Walker's vest, It is conversation.'

She soon dominated the proceedings, giving her advice - completely unasked for! - on every subject under the sun. Mr Masterson was told how to subdue foreign armies; Sarah was told how to turn her pupils into infant prodigies; and poor Mr Walker was given so much "good advice" that he didn't know whether he was coming or going! And once she had finished with everyone's professional lives, Miss Wilberforce started on their personal lives.

You should be ashamed of yourself,' she told Mr Walker. 'A man of your age should be married. It is up to you, as a man of the cloth, to set a good example.' A sudden thought struck her. In fact,' she said, *you could do far worse than offer for Miss Davenport.'

Sarah's eyes opened wide at this impertinence. So far she had suffered Miss Wilberforce's interference politely, but this was going too far.

Poor Mr Walker was very alarmed and spluttered helplessly that he would be charmed... but...

You must encourage him, Miss Davenport,' said Miss Wilberforce determinedly. 'Gentlemen always need a little encouragement at first.'

'I should not care to encourage anyone who is so happy being a bachelor,' replied Sarah. Mr Walker might be nonplussed, but she was fully equal to Miss Wilberforce's impertinence.

Mr Walker heaved a huge sigh of relief, and pulled an enormous handkerchief out of his pocket. That is just the way of it,' he blustered, casting a grateful look at Sarah. 'A bachelor! And so necessary to dear mother, or else offering for such an admirable young lady would make me the happiest of men!'

Well!' declared Miss Wilberforce. 1 was only trying to be of service, I am sure.'

'And I thank you for it,' replied Sarah, too amused to be affronted by the ridiculous suggestion. 'But if and when I decide to marry, I am quite capable of choosing my own husband.'

You? Choose?' Miss Wilberforce looked scandalised by Sarah's suggestion that a young lady might have a choice. 'My dear young lady, it is for the gentleman to choose.'

'And is the lady to have no say in the matter?' asked Sarah innocently.

Miss Wilberforce was not used to anyone standing up to her and was so surprised that she could not think of a cutting reply, so that she was reduced to being affronted again. Well, really! I find this conversation most indelicate,' she declared.

Which, as she had introduced the subject of matrimony in the first place, only made Sarah smile and say, 'I agree.'

'I have always thought how pleasant it is to be on the water when it is hot,' said Mr Masterson, changing the subject.

Mr Walker and Sarah were both glad to help him restore harmony in the boat, and fell to talking of other things. But Miss Wilberforce was determined not to let the subject drop until she had the last word.

The lady,' she said forcefully, 'may say "yea" or "nay".'

'Just so,' said Mr Masterson politely.

He found Miss Wilberforce tiresome, but he was too much of a gentleman to show it. Therefore he made her a slight bow, with just an inclination of his head, before turning once again to Sarah. 'You are a good sailor, Miss Davenport,' he commented.

Sarah's eyes danced. 1 hardly think the lake a test.'

'Perhaps not. But 111 warrant you would enjoy the open sea. Have you ever made a crossing?'

Sarah admitted that she had not, but she was interested to hear about his experiences.

'Masterson seems to have a lot to say for himself,' commented Dominic in an aside to James, as there came a lull in the conversation in James's boat. 'He has been talking ever since his boat set off. He's given Miss Wilberforce a set-down, by the look of it, but he and Miss Davenport seem to be getting along famously.'

'Really? I hadn't noticed,' remarked James: wondering, a moment later, why he had told such a bare-faced lie. Because throughout his conversation with Mr Wilberforce — a dithery old gentleman with a mania for collecting butterflies and moths - he had found his attention drifting again and again to Sarah.

She was looking particularly fresh and pretty in her sarsenet gown. The straw hat which completed her outfit suited the delicate oval of her face, and the green ribbon which was tied with a bow beneath her chin brought out the colour of her eyes. Their sea green seemed almost emerald today, and sparkled with a luminescence that roused the sleeping panther in him. It was a good thing he had sent her ahead in the other boat, or else he would have found it impossible to pay attention to anyone else. It was a pity, though, that he had not taken Masterson with him. Dominic could have travelled in the other boat, and would not have monopolised Miss Davenport.

1 dare say he's in love with her,' remarked Peter. He was in high spirits, having been allowed to take the oars for a while.

'People don t fall ion love in an afternoon, Peter, Dominic explained. There s a lot more to it than that.'

'And anyway, it isn't manners for children to talk about a lady and a gentleman being in love,' Lucy informed him. She spoke with immense gravity, her arms folded across her chest, and sounded so comical, giving out advice on manners as though she had been an old lady of sixty instead of a little girl of six that they all laughed.

All except Mr Wilberforce, who was oblivious to the general conversation, and continued his own monologue on the subject of moths.

The boat went smoothly on its way across the lake. But James could not stop his eyes from drifting towards the other boat, and the figures of Mr Masterson and Miss Davenport. They did seem to be getting on famously. And he happened to know for a fact that Masterson was looking for a wife.

For some reason he was not comfortable. He re-settled himself in his seat, but instead of making him more comfortable it seemed to make him worse. He knew he should be paying more attention to Wilberforce, but his thoughts kept returning to the children's governess.

It would be a good match for her. Masterson was intelligent and good-natured. He had no vices. He could provide Miss Davenport with a comfortable establishment and agreeable company. His rank was not too far above her own; for although Miss Davenport was a governess she was the daughter of a gentleman, and Masterson was nothing more than a squire. There was nothing, in short, to make it unsuitable. Then why did he find himself so hostile to the idea? If he could really have believed that Masterson was a radical, working to overthrow the government, he would have felt justified in feeling hostile, but he did not seriously believe that Masterson was the person he was looking for. Masterson had answered all his leading questions openly when they had talked together on their way down to the lake, and James was convinced Masterson was what he appeared to be; a small landowner, newly returned from the wars, who wanted nothing more than to settle down and farm his few acres in peace.

but the pride of my collection has to be a moth I caught back in 1798. Or was it 1799?' droned on Mr Wilberforce, without the slightest idea that no one was paying him any attention.

So why was it, thought James, when the match would be so suitable, that he could he not bear the thought of Sarah in Masterson's arms?

* * * *

Back on terra firma later that afternoon James had an opportunity to talk to Mr Walker and Miss Wilberforce. He had not forgotten that the main purpose of the boating party had been to talk to his new neighbours and try to discover, throughout the course of the conversation, whether they were of a radical persuasion. It was easy enough to get them to talk. Mr Walker responded both gratefully and enthusiastically to his attention, and Miss Wilberforce was in her element, telling him how he should treat his servants and run his estate. It was somewhat with relief that he finally managed to extricate himself from the conversation, and found himself once more with Dominic.

The two men strolled beyond earshot of the rest of the company. Sarah was playing with the children down by the water's edge; Miss Wilberforce had returned to her brother; and the Reverend Mr Walker was telling the tolerant Mr Masterson all about his mother's many ailments.

'Have you discovered what you needed to know?' asked Dominic. 'Are any of these people radicals?'

'It seems highly unlikely,' admitted James.

'I thought not,' said Dominic with a satisfied sigh.

'If they were down here to make trouble they would be cautious about what they said, but you're right, Dom. None of them seem like the people I'm looking for. Wilberforce is far too vague about everything except his moths. Besides, I've had him checked out. He's a well known amateur entomologist and has spent his life collecting insects.'

'And Miss Wilberforce?' asked Dominic.

James shook his head. 'She, too, checks out. Miss Wilberforce is interested in good works - in other words, in telling other people what to do. That kind of character doesn't go with being a radical. The radicals want to change the order of things. Miss Wilberforce wants them to stay the way they are.'

'So that she can boss and bully the lower orders to her heart's content,' said Dominic.

'Exactly. Which leaves Walker and Masterson. Walker may appear foolish on the surface, but he s a devout man and a good servant of the church. He would never encourage people to bloodshed. And Masterson... ' He thought again of Masterson talking and laughing with Sarah, but pushed the image out of his mind. 'I've spoken to Masterson's commanding officer. He was a good soldier, and he is faithful to the crown.'

'And Miss Davenport?' asked Dominic.

James turned and looked at Sarah, who was collecting daises with Lucy beside the lake. She had answered his questions openly when he had spoken to her of the radicals, but then, a radical agitator would have done the same.

He looked again at all of his guests, all of whom seemed to be what they pretended to be. But he realised that his conversations with them had not been conclusive. Either they were all what they appeared to be, or one of them was a clever actor or actress. He did not want to believe it of Sarah, he wanted to believe that she was every bit as lovely as she appeared to be, but he could not finally dismiss her - dismiss any of his guests - until the agitator had been caught.

Dom, however, did not need to know that.

'No,' said James. 'Miss Davenport is no radical.' Beautiful, charming, and intelligent - yes. But a radical agitator? He hoped not, but it would be foolish for him to fully believe anyone innocent until he knew it for a fact.

'Of course not,' said Dominic. If you ask me, it was all a mare's nest. Napoleon's safely imprisoned on Elba. Hell never escape. And the radicals who want to make trouble over here - well, it's probably nothing more than hot air.'

James could have told Dom that he had received confirmation of the fact that a radical group was operating in Kent that very morning, but he chose not to. Dominic's temperament was too open and trusting to harbour suspicion for long, and even if James had managed to convince his friend that the dangers they had spoken about were real it would serve no purpose. Dominic could do nothing more to help, and to know that the problem hadn't gone away would only worry him. So James kept what he knew to himself.

'Come on, Dom,' he said, clapping his friend on the arm. We've been away from the company long enough.'

They strolled back together. On reaching the others, Dominic s attention was claimed by Miss Wilberforce, who wanted his advice on hiring a groom, and James continued down to the water's edge.

The boys had run off amongst the trees, and Lucy was busy adding to her pile of daisies. On the jetty, two of the labourers were putting coils of rope in the boats. Sarah, having examined a collection of fungi the boys had picked earlier, was rinsing her hands in the lake.

She looked so beautiful as she knelt there, letting her hands drift through the water, that he couldn't help stopping to look at her. The sunlight was falling across her hair, brightening it and making it shine. Several tendrils had fallen loose, and were being blown back and forth across her graceful neck.

She stood up, shaking the water from her hands, and turned towards him. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes burned with desire. As his eyes met hers, everything else disappeared - the water's edge, the children, the labourers - everything except the two of them, standing there facing each other. And not facing each other as Lord Randall and governess, but facing each other as two equal human beings; as man and woman; Adam and Eve; two beings who cried out to each other in that one stretched moment and longed to be joined.

So strong was the attraction that Sarah stepped forward, drawn towards him as a needle is drawn to a magnet and James, in the grip of the same powerful attraction, strode towards her, not stopping until he stood so close to her that he could reach out and touch her. With only the smallest gap between them, the last bastion of conventionality, they stood facing each other, oblivious of everything else.

James fought with his desires. If he lifted his hand, if he pushed back the strand of hair that was blowing across her cheek, if he took her face in his hands, if he kissed her as he was hungry to do, he would destroy her reputation for ever.

He could not do it. He must not do it. He tried to break the spell that held them. If he could only move; speak; do something to shatter the unbearable tension; but he was in the grip of an emotion he had never felt before.