Page 9 of A Loving Governess in Disguise
Chapter 9
Euterpe was aware, the following afternoon, that Mr Swanson had disappeared into the duke’s study with him and that the pair had not left for an extended period. However, it was not her business as to what they were discussing, and she had something of far greater importance to tend to.
Ella had taken her morning of doing nothing but work in stride, and though Euterpe had hoped she would have exhausted herself by the afternoon, she was sitting at her desk with bright eyes and a look of determination. Euterpe would have sighed had she not so appreciated the child’s dedication. She knew what she wanted, and she was determined to get it.
“What would you like to do now?” she asked.
“Well, I would like to practice my French, but I can see that you are tired.”
“I am not.”
That was, of course, a lie. Her early morning conversation with the duke had led to her not going back to sleep, so she was exhausted, which was not helped by the amount of teaching she had done so far that day.
“I can see it, Miss Pembroke. You cannot fool me, for I am quite clever.”
“You are very clever, and I wonder if you have to practice your French at all, as you are practically fluent.”
“I do not wish to be practically fluent,” she pouted. “I wish to be completely fluent. But, to give you some time to yourself, I shall be more than happy to undertake a long copying exercise.”
Euterpe wished to be an active caretaker for the spirited young girl, but the temptation of an hour’s peace was too enticing to bear. She nodded, handing Ella a book to copy with the promise that she would soon return.
As she stepped into the hallway, however, she was face to face with the two gentlemen absent all day.
“Your Grace!” she gasped. “Isabella is practicing her writing right now. I do not normally leave her unattended, I assure you, but–”
“It is perfectly fine, Miss Pembroke,” he replied, Mr Swanson standing behind him with a smile. “She is seven years of age, not three.”
“Yes … Of course.”
“The duke has something to ask you,” Theodore explained, as though trying to lead his friend into changing the subject.
“Yes, I do. Theodore has convinced me to host a ball at the estate on Thursday. I was hoping that you might attend.”
Euterpe tried to conceal her shock. Thursday was but three days away, and a ball posed a threat to her. As a governess, she was not to be invited, so she could have at least kept herself hidden away, but an invitation had been extended to her, and she could not very well refuse that.
The two gentlemen seemed to notice the shock, and perhaps horror, in her eyes, as they chuckled lightly at her.
“It is to be a masked ball, of course,” the duke explained. “Believe me, I would not openly have my governess parading herself around at such an event. We shall have a gown made for you, too, so that you can blend in.”
“I- I do not know what to say. Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Do not thank me. It is Mr Swanson that you should give your thanks to, as he is the one who has convinced me to do this, to begin with.”
“It is the right thing to do,” Mr Swanson protested. “It has been years since a ball was held here, and it is about time that changed.”
Euterpe imagined that this had been what their day’s discussion was about. They turned to leave, and as she did not wish to follow them, there was nothing she could do other than return to the room where Ella was learning. The little girl’s attention snapped to her in an instant, her blue eyes round.
“Has it been an hour already?” she asked, looking at her paper in disappointment. “I should know better than to allow myself to be distracted.”
“It hasn’t been even close to an hour,” she replied gently. “Though I must ask, what were you distracted by?”
“You and my uncle, of course. I heard everything. I may talk a lot, but you must know that I am also a very good listener.”
“I see, and what do you think about it?”
“I think,” she said bluntly, crossing her arms, “that it is preposterous! You cannot attend a ball if you are not a member of the ton.”
“It is unusual, yes, but you know how ladies must be. We cannot refuse an offer from a gentleman.”
“We can. I do it all the time.”
“Yes, for you are not yet a lady.”
“I shan’t do it then, either!” she protested. “I shall not become one of those quiet little things. I shall sparkle.”
“I have no doubts there. However, I do not have any such intentions, and so I have agreed to attend. I shall have a gown made for me–”
“I heard.”
Euterpe eyed the little girl carefully. Isabella was usually a very happy girl, but when she was unhappy, she was extremely unhappy. She wondered if it would be best to return to copying the book, but she knew that the little girl would like her suggestion when she heard it, so she took a deep breath and continued.
“I shall have a gown made for me,” she repeated, “and I was hoping that you might like to help with that. You seem to like pretty colours and wearing nice dresses, after all.”
“I do! I feel like a princess.”
The grumbling seemed to subside, and she was happy again. Euterpe thought back to what she had been told, and how Isabella saw most ladies as a threat, and that she knew ladies would be at the ball. She was not angry with Euterpe; she was angry that her uncle might meet a lady he would wish to court.
The following day, a seamstress arrived at the estate. She had come to them directly to hide the fact that a governess was to be receiving a gown. The duke had paid her an extra amount to keep that information to herself, though she was permitted to say that the duke had made a purchase.
Isabella entered the drawing room with her petite frame lost amongst the bundles of fabric she had brought. She placed them down and looked at Euterpe with small green eyes.
Nobody questioned the little girl as she dictated what the gown would look like. The seamstress seemed to take it in stride, showing piece after piece of fabric to Isabella and placing the liked ones in a pile. Euterpe did not give a single idea, if only because she liked Isabella’s. Then, she had her measurements taken, the seamstress disappeared, and Isabella asked if that meant they could practice her arithmetic.
When the evening of the ball came, Euterpe looked at the delicate pink gown she was to don. It was a very light shade, one that Eloise would have loved. The reminder of her sister’s absence left a dull ache in her chest. She had not heard any news of her returning to the shop, and she tried to think of that as a good thing; she had not needed to discard any more of her belongings.
The duke had sent a maid to lace her into her corsets, apply her rouge, and fix her hair. She had borrowed some jewels for her hair, earrings, and a necklace, as she had not brought any with her.
It felt strange to be wearing the duke’s late mother’s jewellery, and she hoped that nobody would notice. She sighed, shaking the thought from her mind. Nobody would recognize the jewels, and she was having nerves unnecessarily. Nobody would notice her at all.
Watching the duke greet each guest, she thought, was very entertaining indeed. He was clearly quite out of practice, and though he knew what to do, it looked rather forced, as if he did not wish to be there. Fortunately, Euterpe did not have to undergo such a task. She could simply stand on the outskirts, sip her lemonade, and search for a prospective husband.
Not only that but with all the people in attendance, she was bound to find someone who had heard something about her sister. Eloise must have been known to the ton as missing by then, and the rumours would be flying. She wouldn’t have engaged with it all in any other case, but she had to that night if the matter arose. She had to find Eloise.
It did not take long for her to learn that something was circling the ton, of course. She noticed a group of older ladies who, despite the event requiring masks, seemed insistent on taking theirs off at intervals.
The trio were dressed in jewel tones: one green, one blue, and one red, and they seemed to look at most in attendance with disdain. If anyone were to know something, Euterpe reasoned, it would be them. She followed behind them, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.
Their conversation meandered for a while as they discussed the comings and goings of what felt like the entirety of England, but at last, they mentioned what Euterpe needed.
“Oh! Lady Radcliffe,” the one in the green began, turning to the one in blue, “did you tell Lady Tresham that fascinating story that you told me at tea this afternoon?”
“I don’t believe so, Lady Norwood. Then again, soon enough, all shall know of it.”
“Is this about the missing girls?” Lady Tresham asked. “Those poor things. I cannot imagine why anyone would wish to hurt them.”
Euterpe’s heart thudded. Hurt?
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Lady Norwood laughed brightly, looking around to see if she had anyone else’s attention. “It appears that they left of their own free will.”
Lady Tresham guffawed at that. Euterpe, on the other hand, wondered just how people had come to such a conclusion so quickly.
“That cannot be true,” Lady Tresham protested. “Lord and Lady Essex are wonderful to their girls.”
“Yes, but we all have our limits, do we not?” Lady Radcliffe continued. “I have word that the youngest was seen recently in this very town, on the arm of a man. He had black hair and brown eyes, so I’m told, with tanned skin, which can, of course, only mean one thing.”
“A labourer!” Lady Norwood gasped. “Oh, the scandal of it! It is a shame, for the sisters were supposed to make the most advantageous matches. I can hardly blame Lord and Lady Essex for sending them away, especially if their older daughter is doing something similar. What a terrible shame.”
“I had thought them to be a good family.” Lady Tresham nodded. “But it appears that I was mistaken.”
Euterpe wanted to interrupt them, to chastise them for what they were saying so brazenly about her family, but she had to show restraint. She could not tell a soul who she was, no matter how angry she became. Instead, she would be grateful to seemingly have a description of the man Eloise was seen with, and she would ignore them from then on.
When she turned to the dance floor, however, her anger left her. In fact, she noted, most emotion left her. It was as though she had forgotten to breathe the moment she saw what was happening.
The duke was dancing with a young lady, one that she recognized.
Lady Victoria Wilkinson had caused Euterpe misery during their first season. She had tried to say that it had not been deliberate, but it largely had been. Victoria could not help that she was tall, five feet and seven inches to be exact, with long and sleek black tresses framing her large green eyes, her porcelain skin startling pale in comparison. She was the beauty of the ton, and she knew it.
And so, she had made it her life’s mission to make the most advantageous match possible. She had been all the ton talked about during the social season, and rumour had it that twenty suitors were calling on her at any given time. Euterpe, having a few gentlemen show interest but never anything noteworthy, envied her.
She hated that she did, for she knew that having so many gentlemen showing interest would be difficult for her to manage, but all the same, it hurt knowing that she would have to compete with her, even if indirectly.
And now, she was dancing with the duke.
There was that familiar pang of jealousy in her chest. On the few occasions that they had spoken, Victoria had almost looked at her with pity, speaking to her with a sickeningly sweet tone.
“I ought to apologize,” she had said the last time they had seen one another. “Knowing you were almost the favourite young lady must be difficult.”
Euterpe had never understood why Victoria had said that to her. Yes, by all accounts, she was seen as second best, but what did she stand to gain in saying as much? If a gentleman thought himself worthy of Euterpe, then he likely decided that he might as well try for Victoria.
That was what most did, and it led to Euterpe almost wishing she was not even close to her so that the comparisons would not be made. Now, seeing Victoria dancing with the duke, she couldn’t help feeling that way again.
Once again, she had thought she was special, and that the duke had seen her in the same way, only for Victoria to arrive and Euterpe to be forgotten about entirely. Euterpe did not love the duke, of course, but she would be remiss if she said she hadn’t considered a life as his duchess.
She had ignored the thoughts, partly because she had to find Eloise first and foremost but mostly because it was clear to anyone who knew Isabella that the little girl did not want her governess to be too close to her uncle.
Regardless, Victoria would win him. That was how the ton worked. Euterpe sighed, looking down and trying to focus on the beautiful fabric of her gown. Isabella had chosen well.
“A lady such as yourself should never sigh so mournfully.”
Euterpe snapped at the sound of the man’s voice. She turned to see a gentleman beside her, smiling softly. She hadn’t expected to be met with a mess of dark curls or soft brown eyes, but they were pleasant enough things to look at.
“My apologies,” she said, nodding.
“There is no need to apologize, Miss … Ah, I do not know your name.”
“Miss Cecilia Pembroke.”
“Charmed. My name is Lord Cavendish. Pardon my asking, but why have I not heard of your name before?”
“Oh, I am staying with the duke for a while. I have not attended events such as these before.”
“That is a bitter shame. What is worse, however, is that you are not on that dance floor.”
“Well, I–”
“You should join me for the next one.”
Without thinking, she nodded. He was a charming man, after all, and he seemed to take her explanation in his stride. At last, she felt she had found a friendly face.
When the music ended, however, she turned to see the duke approaching them, and his face was anything but friendly.