“Miss Ella,” she said instead, lightly, “I am going to hazard a guess as to the nature of that book, based upon your location and the remarkable enthusiasm of your complexion. I suspect my guess would be accurate.”
Ella said nothing, though her grip tightened.
“I shall also tell you something that may surprise you.” Serena leaned against the opposite shelf with an ease she only partly felt. “When I was not much older than you, I discovered a similar volume in my father’s library. It was concealed behind a row of encyclopaedias, a strategy that proved ineffective, as I was the only person who ever consulted them.”
Ella stared. “You read— you mean—”
“I was curious,” Serena said simply. “As you are. Curiosity is not a fault. It is merely inconvenient.”
A choked sound escaped Ella, half laughter, half shock. “Miss Collard.”
“I am merely stating facts, Miss Ella. Society’s approach to instructing young women on certain realities is, in my opinion, deeply unsatisfactory. But that discussion may wait.” Serena’s tone softened. “For now, we must address the matter of the book.”
Ella hesitated. “Are you going to tell Uncle Nate?”
“That depends upon what you choose to tell me.” Serena met her gaze. “What prompted this exploration? You have no shortage of suitable reading. Why this?”
For a moment, Ella was silent. Then, quietly, “I found it last week. I was looking for something else. A book of maps Papa used to show me. This was hidden behind others, and I thought… well.” She faltered. “I thought it must be important.”
“And was it?”
“Yes.” Her voice dropped. “But it was also confusing. Some parts I did not understand. Others I did, and they made me feel… strange.”
Serena felt a familiar ache of sympathy for this girl who was caught between childhood and adulthood, trying to make sense of a world that offered her few honest answers.
“Shall we sit?” she asked, gesturing to a small settee tucked into an alcove nearby. “I find that conversations of this nature are better conducted while seated.”
Ella hesitated, then nodded. They moved to the settee together, and after a moment, Ella withdrew the book from behind her back and held it in her lap, her fingers tracing the gilt lettering on the spine.
“I am not going to take it from you,” Serena said. “Nor am I about to lecture you on propriety. I am, however, going to ask you some questions. And I should like honest answers. Can you manage that?”
Ella nodded, wary but attentive.
“Good. First: did you understand everything you read in that book?”
“No.” The admission seemed to cost her something. “Some of it made no sense at all. And some of it…” She hesitated. “Some of it felt as though it could not possibly be true. As though the author were inventing things.”
“That is a perceptive observation,” Serena said. “Books of that sort are written chiefly for amusement, not instruction. They exaggerate. They embroider. They present a version of certain… interactions… that bears little resemblance to real experience.”
Ella frowned. “So the book is lying?”
“Not lying, precisely. It tells a particular kind of story; one meant to stir feeling rather than to reflect reality.” Serena chose her words with care. “Such stories omit the awkward parts, the uncertain parts, the parts that require patience, trust, and a great deal of conversation.”
“Oh.” Ella glanced down at the volume in her lap. “So it is rather like a fairy tale—pretending at reality.”
“That is an apt comparison,” Serena said. “And just as one would not expect a fairy tale to govern the conduct of everyday life, one ought not to expect such books to describe it faithfully.”
Ella was silent for a moment. Then she looked up, her grey eyes searching Serena’s face.
“Miss Collard, may I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“The other governesses—when I asked them questions about matters like this—they always said I was too young, or that it was improper to know, or that I would understand everything when I was older.” Her voice was carefully steady, but frustration lay beneath it. “But how am I supposed to learn if no one will teach me? And how am I to know what is true and what is not, if no one will explain the difference?”
It was, Serena thought, an excellent question.
“You are quite right,” she said. “And I shall make you a promise, Miss Ella. If you have questions, you may bring them to me. I will answer them honestly and suitably, according to your age and understanding. I will not dismiss you for asking, nor pretend that knowledge will arrive by magic at some later date.”
