The woman reached Elsie’s side and turned her over, feeling her face and finding it very cold. She shook the girl gently, feeling for any sign of life. Soon, Elsie’s eyes fluttered open.
“Oh, thank God!” Madame Saunier cried. Elsie sat up and blinked, looking around.
“Where am I?” Elsie asked, confused. “Is it still nighttime?”
“You are at the stream, my girl. But why? Why did you come to the water?” Madame Saunier demanded, her voice taking on a hard edge now that her fear had given way to a mild anger.
“I heard them talking again,” Elsie said, then she clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Who? Who was talking?” Madame Saunier asked, feeling Elsie’s forehead.
“I don’t know,” Elsie said. “At least I don’t think I know. Lydia told me I mustn’t tell anyone.”
“No, who? Were there people in zee house? I do not understand!”
The more Madame Saunier pressed, the more fretful Elsie became. Tears pooled in her wide gray eyes as she looked around. Behind them, another shout of surprise made them turn to look.
“Lady Elsie! What are you doing out here?” the governess cried, grabbing the girl and pulling her to her feet roughly. She shook Elsie angrily and shouted, “You’ll be the death of me with this wandering about in the night! If you are not so tired that you need to be in your bed all night, then perhaps you need more vigorous lessons during the day. That will teach you to stay where you belong!”
“Miss Graves, stop it at once!” Madame Saunier shouted in return, coming between the two and pulling Elsie close to her. “You will remember yourself if you value your position in zis household!”
The governess glared back at Madame Saunier, straightening up to her full height. “I see. You do not wish for me to teach the child?”
“I wish for you to show some compassion,” Madame Saunier retorted, her voice taking on a haughty tone as she looked at the younger woman. “Zee child did not know what she was doing, and for you to cajole her zis way is not permitted.”
“Oh? Not permitted?” Miss Graves said mockingly. “In case you have forgotten,Madame, you are not my employer. Lord Bronson hired me to look after Lady Elsie, and that is what I am to do. Come along, Elsie.”
The governess took Elsie by the wrist and pulled her closer, then nearly dragged the girl up the hill to the house. Madame Saunier could only watch them go, stinging from the insult at the hands of a servant. Her vision blurred with tears as she thought about her own situation and that of the orphaned girl.
Chapter 20
Throughout the first day of their journey home, Lydia kept to her quarters. Matthew had knocked on the door once to inquire if she needed anything, and she had called out that she did not. He had knocked only one other time to tell her they had left the harbor if she wished to look out at the sea, but she had declined. It saddened her to miss what was surely a beautiful sight, one she may never have the chance to see again, but Lydia wished for nothing more than to be left alone.
From her satchel, she had fetched her small stash of carefully hoarded writing paper and pulled one expensive sheet from the folio. Taking her pen and ink to the small table beside her bed, she began a letter to Penelope.
My dearest Penelope,
All is well, and I hope this letter finds you in good health. As I’m sure you have ascertained by now, I am a married woman, for all the good it may do me. Our ceremony complete, I write to you now from one of Lord Paxton’s sailing vessels. We will return to his home by tomorrow evening, he assures me.
I find myself at a loss, Penny. My heart grieves for this terrible lot that has been cast. I am married in name only, having sacrificed my future happiness and all hope of having a family of my own to a man who did not wish for a wife. He assures me that mine will be a life of carefree comfort, but at what cost? As I have said to you many times, I would rather be the beloved wife of a tenant farmer and be filled with joy than be the lonely, derided wife of a nobleman.
In all honesty, I do not know what to do next. I am to take up residence in Paxton Hall as the Countess while His Lordship returns to his only true happiness, a life abroad. I cannot hope that your mother will permit you to remain my friend or visit me as I know her mind on scandalous things. But please tell me that you’ll continue to write to me in secret. If you, too, have been shamed by my behavior, I will understand if you never write again.
Your truest friend,
Lydia
Lydia folded and secured the letter with her seal and set it aside, hopeful that Matthew might post it whenever he disembarked. Until then, there was nothing to do but read from one of the books she had brought or work at a sampler she’d packed away to pass the time. Anything she could do to keep her thoughts from what awaited her in her new home was a welcome distraction.
By the following morning, Lydia’s anger and hurt had faded somewhat to a numb sort of acceptance, the sort she had tried and failed to achieve on her journey north. She had only thought then she’d been resigned to her fate, but now she was certain of it.
“Lydia,” Matthew called through the door the next morning, “your breakfast has been brought. And we’ll reach port within the hour. I need to speak with you before I leave.”
“Yes, My Lord?” Lydia asked calmly when she opened the door. Matthew winced at her formal manner.
“Would you come sit?” he asked, gesturing to the table where their food awaited. “It is not good food, but it is food nonetheless.”
Lydia nodded and took her seat, but the food—though suitably prepared—held no allure. She had no appetite, even after the meager fare they’d endured all throughout the trip to Scotland.
