Julia Justiss - The Tempting Of The Governess

‘And she has you beaten if you do wake someone up?’

‘Yes. But Sophie is so cold, she can’t help crying.’ Her own lip quivering, the girl added with an almost desperate defiance, ‘We’re both s-so cold.’

‘Don’t be afraid. I have no intention of striking you,’ Olivia said, walking nearer. Frowning, she inspected the large room, which contained only two small beds side by side, a dresser, and a wardrobe, with a large open area that must serve as a schoolroom. Much like hers, it, too, was more sparsely furnished than its size warranted.

‘I’m Miss Overton, your new governess,’ she continued as she reached the girls. ‘You must be—Elizabeth...’ she motioned to the bigger girl ‘...and Sophie?’

The standing sister curtsied. ‘Yes, ma’am. We’re sorry we woke you up. So...you aren’t going to beat us?’

‘Certainly not.’ Her frown deepening, Olivia fingered the thin cotton blanket on the bed. It might be June, with full summer nearly upon them, but the stone abbey walls held in the chill like an ice cellar. The girls, too, wore only thin cotton nightgowns.

‘Goodness, no wonder you are frozen. Come here, both of you!’

Untying her robe, she sat on the bed. Pulling the girls into her arms, she settled one on each side of her and wrapped the thick garment around all of them.

It didn’t quite meet in the middle, but the girls were small enough that she was able to almost completely cover them as they clung to her, their need for warmth obviously stronger than their fear of being so close to a stranger.

‘Haven’t you told Mrs Wallace that you are cold at night?’

‘Oh, yes, ma’am,’ Elizabeth said. ‘The very first night, when Sophie woke up crying. But she said we were in England now and we would have to get used to it.’

‘Used to it? You grew up on an island where it is warm all the time, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Snuggling closer, the little girl said, ‘It was always sunny, too! It’s so dark here and it rains so much.’

‘I’ve never been to your homeland, but I’ve read that it’s beautiful. Full of exotic birds and trees and beautiful flowers. After we get you warmed up, you must go back to sleep. Then tomorrow, when we get acquainted, you must tell me all about it. Now, let’s see if I can find you more blankets.’

Shrugging off her robe to leave it around them, she padded to the chest, shivering in her thin linen night rail. She looked through all the drawers, which contained only an array of lightweight, cotton clothing. She went then to the wardrobe, but it stood empty.

She had no idea where the household linens might be kept and certainly didn’t intend to rummage about the dark to try to find them. Still—she couldn’t leave the girls with nothing but that worn excuse of a blanket to cover them.

Walking back to the bed, she pulled her robe from around the girls and donned it before urging them to their feet and enfolding them against her again. ‘You shall just have to spend the rest of the night in my chamber. We’ll find you adequate blankets tomorrow, when I can talk with Mrs Wallace.’

Sighing, the younger girl pressed closer. But Elizabeth piped up, ‘Mrs Wallace won’t like that. She says everything must be in its proper place. We aren’t allowed to move things, or touch things, or go into any of the other rooms besides the nursery.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll deal with Mrs Wallace.’

If the housekeeper were such a fanatic about order, she’d do a better job of dusting, Olivia thought. Being short-staffed was no excuse for slovenliness.

She ushered the girls down the hall and into her room, then helped them climb up on the big bed. Moving them to the middle, where she could be reasonably sure they wouldn’t roll off in the night, she settled the thick counterpane around them and hopped into bed herself.

She smiled as she noted that Elizabeth had arranged herself protectively on the far side of her sister, giving Sophie the warmer place next to Olivia. What a brave little champion she was.

‘Go to sleep now, girls,’ she said, blowing out the candle.

‘Thank you, Miss Overton,’ Elizabeth whispered into the dark.

‘You are very welcome, sweetheart. Sleep well.’

As soon as she settled herself on the pillow, the four-year-old Sophie snuggled close to her warmth.

As she tried to recapture sleep, the unfamiliar presence of two little girls at her back, Olivia thought that perhaps she had been meant to come to Somers Abbey. She was no longer in a position to write to Members of Parliament about the great political and social causes of the day. But reduced as her circumstances had become, she could still help two small beings who were even more lost and alone than she was.

A wave of compassion displaced, for a moment, her simmering anger. After this incident, she was even less impressed with the housekeeper who ran Somers Abbey—and its deliberately distant master.

Both were going to get a piece of her mind in the morning.

Despite her assurance that Elizabeth did not need to concern herself with the housekeeper, the little girl woke Olivia well before daylight. ‘Miss Overton, we must go back to our room. Before Mrs Wallace comes up and finds out we came here.’

The poor child was obviously afraid of the housekeeper—and small wonder, if she were threatened with a beating for any small infraction of the woman’s rules. After lighting a candle, Olivia turned to reassure her.

But the worry etched on the child’s face made it quite clear she didn’t trust the new governess to protect her, despite the fact that Olivia had rescued them last night. Her lack of confidence in the person appointed to look out for her was not surprising, considering that the adult who should have cared for the children had instead sent them across an ocean to live with a stranger.

A stranger who then consigned them into the charge of a woman who beat small children and was unconcerned that they were cold and lost, Olivia thought, her anger against both the housekeeper and her employer reviving.

Not wishing to increase their anxiety by keeping them in her room, she said, ‘Very well, I’ll take you back to the nursery. But I’m bringing the counterpane with us, so you may stay warm until I can obtain suitable clothing and bedding.’

Elizabeth’s eyes went wider. ‘But Mrs Wallace will see your blanket! She will know right away it isn’t ours.’

‘I’ll tell her I came to check on you in the night and found the nursery too cold for you to sleep in with just a cotton blanket. Since I didn’t know where more blankets were kept, I brought you mine. And please believe me, I am quite capable of dealing with any objections Mrs Wallace might raise. So, ready? Let’s get you back down the hallway before your toes freeze!’

After hurrying the little girls back to the nursery and draping the counterpane over their two beds, Olivia brought the candle over to the dresser and once again inspected its contents. Though the cotton undergarments and dresses were all of excellent quality, they had obviously been intended for wearing in a tropical climate. She didn’t discover anything made of wool or even linen. ‘We shall have to get you heavier clothing, too, at least until the weather is sufficiently warm.’

‘Does it ever get warm in England?’ Elizabeth asked.

Compared to what she knew of weather in the tropics, the child had a point. ‘Probably never as warm as you were accustomed to at home, but we do have pretty, sunny summer days sometimes. Now, wrap up tight! I’ll get dressed and be back before Mrs Wallace arrives.’

Sophie gave her sister an anxious look, but both obediently huddled down in their beds. Girding herself for the confrontation to come, Olivia paced back to her chamber, threw on her garments and returned to the nursery.