Page 38 of When She Was a Governess
Amelia would adore it.
Sophia gathered her skirts and hurried up to the nursery, clutching the book to her chest, perhaps more excited than the child would be. She found Amelia with Lucy, playing with her dolls.
“Mama, you came to see me.” Amelia abandoned her dolls and ran to her, arms outstretched.
Mama. Would she ever tire of hearing the word come out of the child’s mouth? “I have a surprise for you, sweetheart. A new book.”
“A book.” Amelia’s eyes lit up. “May we read it now?”
“If you’d like. Lucy, you may take a break while we read.”
“Thank you, miss.” Lucy bobbed a curtsy and withdrew.
Sophia settled into the rocking chair near the window, adjusting Amelia on her lap. The afternoon light was perfect for reading, golden and warm.
“This is a very special book,” Sophia said, showing Amelia the cover. “It’s calledCinderella. Do you see the pretty lady in the blue dress?”
“Pretty.” Amelia touched the illustration with one finger.
“Shall we read about her?”
Amelia nodded enthusiastically.
Sophia opened to the first page and began reading the verses aloud, her voice falling into the rhythm of the poetry. Amelia leaned back against her chest, warm and sweet-smelling.
The story unfolded: Cinderella living with her cruel stepmother and stepsisters, doing all the hard work while they went to balls and parties. Sophia’s voice faltered slightly when she reached the parts about the unkindness, about how poorly Cinderella was treated.
“Why is she mean?” Amelia asked. “Why is the mama mean to Cinderella?”
Sophia’s stomach churned. “That’s not her real mama, my love. This is her stepmother—someone who married her papa after her real mama died.”
“Oh.” Amelia was quiet for a moment, processing this. “What happened to my mama?”
“Your mother died when you were a baby.” Sophia held her closer. “Your mama Rebecca loved you very much, but she andyour papa went to heaven. But you have me and Uncle Henry now. Your new papa and mama.”
She looked up at Sophia with wide eyes. “Will you be mean like the stepmother?”
“No, sweetheart. Never.” Sophia kissed her forehead. “Not all stepmothers are like the one in this story. I love you, and I always will.”
Amelia seemed satisfied with this and snuggled back against Sophia’s chest. “Read more.”
Sophia continued, but Amelia interrupted again when they reached the part about Cinderella doing all the work, scrubbing floors and serving her stepsisters.
“Were you like Cinderella?” Amelia asked, twisting to look up at her. “Did you have to do work?”
Sophia’s breath caught. How much to tell a three-year-old? “Yes, love. A little bit like Cinderella.”
“Why?”
“Well…” Sophia chose her words carefully. “When I was a baby, my mother died. I never knew her.”
“Like me.”
“That’s right. And then, when I was a little girl, my papa died. And after that, my brothers and I didn’t have very much money. So when I grew up, I had to work to survive. That’s how I came here—to be your governess and take care of you.”
“Did you have mean people? Like Cinderella?”
Tears pricked Sophia’s eyes. “Some people were unkind, yes. But I had my brothers, who loved me very much. And then I came here and met you, and you made everything better.”
