Page 12 of The Governess and the Brooding Duke
She thought of the Duke’s blue eyes. The stubborn set of his jaw.
If she was an immovable object, the man was a mountain.
He might be formidable, but she herself had been accused of that a time or two. And she would win this. In the end, she would win. She would prove to the Duke that her past was not a barrier to her being an accomplished employee. Better, she would prove to him that her past was irrelevant, and that the real reason she chose not to share it was that it simply didn’t matter.
Who she had been, that had nothing to do with who she was now.
It was nothing.
She rolled her sleeves up, grateful that the children were to be her only focus. If for some reason the wet nurse was unavailable she might have to step in, but Mrs Brown had presented that as a very unlikely possibility.
She did wonder why the Duke had not spoken of the babe.
Perhaps because it was not to do with her. But the children in this room were, and they required her focus.
‘Is something amiss, Michael?’
‘This is far too much schoolwork,’ he said. ‘The previous governess did not force us to do science. We only had to do the three Rs!’
‘What a shame. It seems that the previous governess wasted much of your potential. But I will not. You can trust me to make sure that I’m giving you the very best.’
It was Elizabeth’s turn to scowl. ‘This doesn’t matter to me!’
This was not the first time she’d had a female charge protest, and while she would ask her to explain herself, she already knew why. ‘And why is that, Miss Elizabeth?’
‘Because,’ she said, ‘I am a lady. And I will marry a gentleman.’
‘I see. And you, Michael, you are the heir. Do you suppose that means you also don’t need to learn?’
He sniffed. ‘I’m not going to be a scientist. I’m going to be the Duke.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘One day, you will be a duke.’ Something he wouldn’t become without the death of his father. She was certain he did not truly understand that now. ‘But not today. And so, do you not think that perhaps in the time between this day and the day when you become the Duke, this day and the day when you become a man’s husband, you may want to broaden the scope of your minds?’
‘Why?’ Elizabeth asked. It was not a genuine question, rather it was a mutinous one.
‘Because life has a way of taking twists and turns we don’t expect, and we never know what situations we may find ourselves in. When out in the natural world, a general knowledge of science is useful. When this estate is yours,’ she said to Michael, ‘will you not wish to know the names of the plants growing here? When you must balance the sheets, for the farmers, for those paying rent, for the rest of the household budget, will you not need to know your figures?’
‘And me?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘What sort of man does your father intend to match you with? Acleverman? Akindman? Or simply a titled man? As a woman, you are putting a great deal of confidence in a man you have never met before to ensure that your life runs as you would like it to. If you cannot carry knowledge for yourself, then you surrender all to this man whose name you do not even know.’
Elizabeth was eleven. She would be in the ballrooms hunting for a husband soon enough. She was a child now, yes, but a girl could not afford to ignore the realities. The practicalities.
Men controlled them. Everything they were allowed to have, and everything that they could achieve. They had to seize as much knowledge as possible for themselves. They had to understand that, with clear eyes.
They had to see it.
The world would say that Michael needed the education most, but she knew in her heart that it was Elizabeth who needed to be clever, who needed to understand the workings of things. If she married a man who was smart, who treated her well, then those things would be assets to her regardless.
But if she married an idiot, a man who mismanaged funds, a man who was cruel to her, then education, knowledge of the world, some understanding of the way that things worked outside of England, or simply an idea of how to manage money, to survive if she had to run, those things could save her life.
Perhaps Elizabeth, at eleven, could put her faith in a nameless, faceless suitor, but Mary would not do so on her behalf. It was the thing she valued most in her work. She ensured the girls in her care would be able to take care of themselves if need be.
That their minds were broad. That they knew more than simply the matters of hearth and home. Of manners and needlepoint. Pretty languages.
Elizabeth looked disquieted by what Mary had said. ‘Husband is supposed to take care of you. Like Father...’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘If the world works in its ideal fashion, that would be so. But it is not always so. I do not say this to frighten you. You are very fortunate children. You were born with money. Your father is influential. What he says, what he thinks, it matters. And so what you say and think and want will also matter. But far better to understand the richness of this world that you occupy. Arithmetic, science, mathematics, art. Music. History, Geography and language, all of these things will give you that. And they will give you control. Power. That is what an education is. It is not simply hours spent in a schoolroom. It is options. Unfolding before you as far as you can see.’
