“A temporary position,” she clarified. “Perhaps a month as I’ve never been a governess and might fail miserably.” She laughed because she couldn’t imagine this would be something she’d wish to do permanently. She’d also decided that a month would be ample time to determine if Lord Melcombe would ever see her as anything other than a governess. If he didn’t, she’d leave and continue on to her mother’s family, and perhaps finally put her infatuation to rest.
“I doubt that you will fail,” he assured her.
The driver of the coach called for all to board. “Do you have luggage?” he asked.
“Yes, a valise,” she answered as he rushed forward to stop the coach from leaving.
Althea watched on as the driver, not at all pleased, retrieved her valise from the stack at the back of the coach then set about rearranging those that were left.
“Is this the correct one?” Lord Melcombe asked as he returned.
“It is,” Althea assured him as butterflies erupted in her belly and excitement rushed through her being.
She was going to be residing in Lord Melcombe’s home. It didn’t matter that she’d only be a governess because she’d finally be close to him. She also hoped that their not quite a courtship in London might blossom to more.
“My carriage is this way.”
The girls hopped off the bench and the younger ones skipped ahead until they came to the conveyance parked at the corner. As the driver held the door, the girls scrambled inside. Althea followed, noting that only one seat was available. It was just as crowded in here as it had been on the coach, but at least these bodies were smaller and did not smell, though she might.
“Come in, Miss Claywell,” Winifred beckoned.
“Where will your uncle sit if I take his seat?”
“I’ll ride with the driver,” he announced.
“I hate to put you out.”
“It is no inconvenience,” he insisted.
After she’d taken her seat, he closed the door and the carriage shifted as he climbed to sit next to the driver.
Silence followed as all five girls stared at her.
Oh, dear.
“May I know your names?”
“I’m Winifred,” the youngest answered with a grin.
“Yes, I know, we’ve already met, but how old are you?”
“I’m five.” She held up fingers to emphasize her important age.
Althea then looked to the next youngest.
“I’m Lila. I am seven.”
“I am Theodora, but I wish people would call me Teddy, and I am ten.”
Althea glanced to the girl beside her.
“Matilda, not Tilly or any other obnoxious nickname,” she said with superiority and slid a suffering glance toTeddy. “I am thirteen.”
Althea looked to the last niece.
“Delia. I am fifteen. We do not need you and will inform Uncle Preston once we return to Ambrose Hall.”
Chapter Three
