Virtue of a Governess (38 page)

He could hardly be admiring her profile. When her father had painted her portrait, he always transformed her retroussé nose into one of classical proportions.

“Mother had a similar coloring to Miss Ashley, didn’t she, Father?” Blythe said.

“Your mother’s hair was auburn,” he said. His voice lacked any sign of grief. Blythe, too, showed little emotion when she mentioned her mother. Perhaps Lady Falconbridge had passed away many years before. “Miss Ashley’s is reddish-gold rather like a
Hypanartia cinderella
,” he said, nodding to her.

“From Peru,” Blythe said.

“Is it?” Vanessa asked, transfixed by his lordship’s blue eyes.

“Yes, and you share your first name with the
Vanessa cardui
, a butterfly with a strange pattern of flying, a sort of screw shape. Like this.” He made a circular downward spiral with his finger.

Was he teasing her? She looked at him suspiciously. “I trust it’s only my name that reminds you of it, my lord.”

He smiled. “Butterflies are quite fascinating in their diversity, Miss Ashley.”

She wished he didn’t always sound as though he was giving a lecture. Might he be visualizing her under glass?

Vanessa attempted to change the subject. She didn’t care to be compared to his lordship’s butterflies. “Do you like to read, Miss Blythe?”

Blythe’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes. I love books.”

Pleased, Vanessa said, “We can enjoy them together.”

“Then I shall allow you free reign over my library, Miss Ashley.” His lordship put down his cup. He pulled one of Blythe’s locks, stood, nodded to Vanessa, and strode from the conservatory.

Blythe and Vanessa stared after him in silence.

Vanessa felt strangely flat. Had her appearance disappointed him? She hadn’t been employed for her looks, surely.

She had decided to return to her room when Blythe spoke. “My party frock is pink. What color is yours?”

Vanessa widened her eyes. “I didn’t bring one. There will be little reason to wear it.”

“Father has invited guests next week. There will be music.”

“Oh. Well, how nice. But governesses don’t go to parties.”

“Miss Lillicrop did.”

“Did she?”

Thick black lashes hid Blythe’s blue eyes from view like a shutter over a window. “I watched her from my window. She danced on the terrace.”

Vanessa would have loved to ask with whom, but Mrs. Royce appeared with the maid to clear away the tea things.

“What books have you read, Blythe?” Vanessa asked.

“
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
is my favorite.” The girl’s face flushed with pleasure.

“There are many wonderful stories, and I promise we’ll read a new one every few weeks.” Vanessa ran a list of texts through her mind.

“How nice you seem,” Blythe said in her cool little voice. “Will you stay longer than Miss Lillicrop?”

“I certainly plan to,” Vanessa said, her curiosity aroused.

Mrs. Royce spoke from the doorway. “Your music teacher is waiting, Miss Blythe.”

“Goodbye.” Blythe climbed down from the chair and left the room.

“I gather Miss Lillicrop was the former governess?” Vanessa asked the housekeeper.

“That is correct.”

“She didn’t stay long?”

“A few months.”

“Did something happen for her to leave so soon?”

“You’d best ask the master about that.” Mrs. Royce’s tone made it quite clear she would discuss it no further.

Left to her own devices, Vanessa walked out into the garden.

* * * 

Julian glanced out the window and saw his new employee cross the terrace with a determined stride. She had been a surprise. He was glad women had dispensed with the bustle; he liked the natural sway of a woman’s hips. He had met Miss Ashley’s grandfather, the Earl of Gresham, but never her father, the ne’er-do-well younger son who had cut himself adrift from his family and left his daughter penniless. Julian found the former earl to be too haughty for his tastes, couldn’t see beyond the end of his long nose, and the elder son now in possession of the title was no better, or so he’d heard. He returned to his ledger, this wouldn’t get his work done. He had much to do before departing for the Amazon.

* * * 

Vanessa took the path that seemed to lead to the lake. The air was still and hot, and all the flowers and plants in the garden beds drooped. She entered a thick copse of trees where the overhead branches blocked out the sky, and moments later, emerged beside the lake. As she approached the folly, a welcome fresh breeze blew the damp curls from her brow. It was a most unusual structure, the Grecian columns intricately carved with leaves and flowers. Steps led up to the arched front overlooking the water. Inside, she found a rather decadent looking crimson velvet chaise longue, several wicker chairs and a table. A nice place to bring Blythe for a picnic she decided.

Vanessa returned to her bedroom. She curled up in a chintz chair, her chin propped in her hand. Her new employer filled her thoughts. She’d never met anyone like him. She was glad to find him so interesting, but was there something cold blooded about killing insects and placing them under glass?

Blythe seemed too subdued for her liking. It might be due to shyness, but she doubted it. She would have to wait and see. Vanessa considered herself to have been a luckier child than Blythe, having been blessed with a loving mother until fully grown. She had enjoyed far more freedom, which mattered more than material things. How carefree she’d been, at least until the last year when things had gone terribly wrong.

At the thought of her parents, she pulled out her handkerchief and allowed herself a moment’s reflection on the past.

Vanessa sighed, dried her eyes, and moved to the desk to prepare the lessons. When satisfied with the list, she placed it inside the desk drawer. When she tried to close it again, the drawer stuck. She pulled it out farther and peered inside. At the back was a scrunched up piece of paper. Smoothing it out on the desk, she discovered it was a detailed drawing of a butterfly, its wings colored crimson, just like the one in his lordship’s study. It would appear that the previous governess had drawn it. So finely detailed, it gave clue to her expert knowledge of butterflies. She replaced it and closed the drawer. What would cause such a competent person to leave Falconbridge Hall so suddenly?