A Lady's Point of View by Jacqueline Diamond Read Free Book Online

memory of
those grave, gentle eyes, Meg pinned up her locks with more skill than most
women of her station could have managed, for the Linleys’ lack of funds made a
hairdresser a rare luxury. It struck her that, with her practical turn, she
might serve well as a governess, if such a thing did not prove an embarrassment
to her mother.
    Such musings were neither here
nor there. She was not a governess, nor was she the woman who had been expected
today. As soon as possible, she must tell the marquis the truth.
    Ruefully Meg reflected on how to
accomplish that. What could she say? Excuse me, sir, I am a lady with weak
eyesight, who entered your carriage by mistake. Indeed, I am the fool who set
all London a-twitter by my bumblings. Pray excuse me and send me home.
    But the real governess had turned
back. Who would care for the children? Meg knew enough of the usual manner of
treating staff to recognize that his lordship’s politeness toward her betrayed
a growing desperation with his young charges.
    Those berry-stained faces! She
chuckled softly, remembering them. They might need a firm hand, but at heart
they were good youngsters. If only she could have such children someday.
    If I am not to marry, I shall
never have children at all.
    The thought was too painful to be
borne. Swiftly Meg rose and slipped on the sensible shoes from her trunk. The
clothes she’d brought were plain enough for a governess, that much was true.
    Another knock at the door
admitted the housekeeper, Mrs. Franklin. “Is everything to your satisfaction,
Miss Linley?” she inquired.
    “Yes, thank you,” she said.
    “It’s an excellent room,” the
woman continued. “Have you noticed the view from the windows? In the daylight,
one can see halfway across Cheshire.”
    “Indeed?” Courtesy obliged Meg to
join Mrs. Franklin by the curtains, but the deepening twilight revealed only
indistinct shapes. “I fear I misplaced my spectacles on the journey. My eyes
are a bit weak.”
    “Oh, my, what a shame, and you so
young!” declared the housekeeper. “Now let me think. The late Lady Bryn, Lord
Andrew’s mother, had spectacles. Perhaps I could find them if you like. I doubt
his lordship would object.”
    “Could you?” This turn of events
was an unexpected blessing. “I’d be most grateful.”
    “Certainly.” Mrs. Franklin smiled
warmly, and Meg began to wish she really were the governess and could stay in
this hospitable place for a time. “Now, would you care to see the nursery and
the schoolroom before dinner?”
    “Yes, indeed.” Much as she hated
to deceive the kindly woman, Meg considered it improper to confide in her
before revealing the truth to the marquis.
    “His lordship is expecting you
for dinner,” added Mrs. Franklin as the two women climbed to the second floor
together.
    Meg nodded. Some households, particularly
in the country, included the governess as one of the family for informal
occasions, although she would never have been invited to dine with guests.
    From the musty smell of the
schoolroom, it had not been used for some time. “When did the last governess
leave?” she asked.
    “Two months ago,” replied the
housekeeper.
    “May I ask why?”
    “Peculiar woman.” Mrs. Franklin
led the way back into the hall. “Declared she heard ghosts walking at night. I
cannot imagine what made her think so. Brynwood has never been haunted.”
    “Except perhaps by children,”
murmured Meg.
    They proceeded into the nursery,
where the youngsters were dining at a small table. As soon as they entered, Tom
jumped to his feet and ran toward Meg. “Miss Linley! May I show you my
collection of bugs? I’ve pressed them so neatly—”
    “Enough o’ that, Master Tom.” A
beefy serving woman caught the youngster deftly by the collar and hauled him
back into place.
    “Thank you, Jenny,” said Mrs.
Franklin.
    The children hurriedly finished
eating and came to sit beside Meg on a padded bench. “We’ll leave you for a