Rumors Among the Heather (5 page)

“I would not say
cynical, only practical. And practical is what I must be. Tell me
about your nephew.”

“Ah, here we are at
the schoolroom and his self-imposed prison. I’ll introduce you and
then leave you two to become acquainted. I must leave for a short
time. I left someone waiting in my office. Now to my nephew. Allow
me,” he said as he opened the door for Julie.

She stepped into a
pleasant room, probably the most charming in the castle so far. A
fair sea breeze blew through the open windows, and sunlight lent
its dazzling light to the room. Her charge sat in the darkest
corner of the room. He looked small for nine years of age. Julie
immediately took pity on him. He looked so lost and forlorn. “Ian,
here is yet another new governess, Miss Hastings.” Lord Bonnleigh’s
announcement fell into the silence of the room.

Ian did not move or
acknowledge his uncle’s words. He continued to stare at the floor.
Lord Bonnleigh walked over to the lad, lifted him up, and brought
him to stand in front of Julie.

“Your behavior is
intolerable. If you don’t get on with Miss Hastings, I’m bound to
send you to boarding school and wash my hands of you. Do we
understand each other, Ian?” Without waiting for an answer, her new
employer left the room.

Julie looked at Ian,
but he did not say anything. He only hung his head. Her heart went
out to him. “I have come a long way to be your governess. I do hope
we get on. I would hate to lose my job.”

He gave no response to
indicate he’d heard her but continued to stare at the floor. Julie
took a deep breath and continued, “Lord Bonnleigh tells me you lost
your parents almost a year ago. My mother died four years ago, and
my father died three months ago. I’m sorry for your loss. I miss my
parents very much too.”

At her words, he
looked up at Julie for the first time. “You’re very pretty, not
like the others, but it doesn’t make any difference. I can’t read,
I don’t like numbers, and I’m never going to leave this room until
I die.” He spoke with such force Julie took a step back. He crossed
his arms over his chest, and fierce blue eyes stared stubbornly
back at her.

“We’ll start on your
lessons tomorrow. Perhaps I can change your mind. I’m looking
forward to getting to know you, Master Ian. I think we could be
friends, as well.”

“I don’t want to be
friends, you know,” he said and stuck out his lower lip in a
pout.

Julie laughed in spite
of herself. “Well, it’s up to you, but I would watch that lower lip
walking up steps. You might trip over it.”

She left him standing
in the middle of the room. The look on his face was the epitome of
stubbornness. Julie smiled to herself. She had more than a touch of
stubbornness, if her saintly long-suffering parents were to be
believed. Perhaps this was her punishment at long last, but one she
was going to enjoy. It might take more charm than wit to cut
through the walls that little boy had set about him, but day by day
she’d chip at them until she broke through. She had a purpose now
and a goal. This would do, for the time being.

Julie joined Lord
Bonnleigh back downstairs in the small sitting room.

“Ah, Miss Hastings. I
have just informed Mrs. Highet that I’ll be away for the next six
months or so. I’ve received an urgent message that can’t be put
off. I’m afraid I must leave shortly. My nephew will be in your
charge. If on my return I find everything satisfactory, the
position will be yours. If you need help or advice before my
return, you may consult Mr. Rankin, my man of business in the
village, or Mrs. Highet. I am also leaving Ribble behind this time.
I will not need him, and if you have problems, he is also one to
ask for help.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Do you ride, Miss Hastings?”

“Yes, my lord,” Julie said.

“There is not much to
do on the island unless you’re a farmer. Pick a horse from my
stable and ride whenever you get a chance. They could all use the
exercise.”

“Thank you, my lord.
Riding would be most agreeable in my spare time,” Julie said with a
smile. She had wanted to ride every day since letting her horse go.
She’d thought that pleasure would never be hers again.

“You may retire until
dinner. We observe country hours here and dine promptly at six.
Tardiness is frowned upon.” Thus having dismissed her, he left the
room. Julie followed a servant down a long corridor of rooms,
doors, and stairs until she arrived at her room on the fourth
floor. She found her trunk already there, and she immediately set
about unpacking her few belongings.

The austere room
contained just a bed and dresser and one small window. A chimney
with a fireplace on each side of the wall separated the room next
door. The sterile atmosphere oppressed Julie more than anything so
far. Her energy sapped, she sat down on her bed and looked around
the small chamber through quickly misting eyes. Before the tears
could come, she began to laugh. Her sense of the absurd overcame
her. After being jilted she had vowed never to marry. Now she’d
received a nun’s cell in the middle of Presbyterian Scotland. Her
penitence awaited her in the schoolroom, and temptation called her
name two stories below. She continued to laugh as she unpacked her
trunk.

“Was there ever a more
unworthy minister’s daughter?” she wondered out loud.

* * *

When Julie came down
for breakfast the next day, Ian’s uncle had already gone. He’d left
the island at high tide, so she would indeed be on her own for the
next six months. She helped herself to the food left on the
groaning board in the dining room. After finishing her breakfast of
cold smoked beef, bread, and honey with tea, she went up to the
schoolroom.

She entered Ian’s
self-imposed prison with many misgivings. Her charge had not
arrived yet, and she took the time to look around. There were rows
of books placed neatly in bookcases along the east wall. Some were
apparently Ian’s father’s, and some most certainly his mother’s,
but the most surprising discovery came in the form of a small book
of poems presented to Ian’s mother by Ian and written in a
childlike hand. “To mother, with love, Ian.”

Ian came quietly into
the room. With his hands in his pockets, he walked over to his
corner and sat down. He wore the same look on his face as
yesterday.

“Ian, come over here
to the table and let us begin.” He obeyed, and Julie thought this
had to be a good sign. At least he did not ignore her.

She took out a plaque
with the alphabet on it and began to go through the letters with
him. He neither looked up nor gave any sign he heard her. At last,
he stood up and walked away.

Julie knew she would
have to do something quickly or he would gain the better of her,
and defeat would be fast in coming—along with unemployment.

“Ian, how long have
you been able to read?”

Stunned, Ian looked up
with a spark of interest showing in his pale blue eyes. “I can’t
read. I told you!”

“Yes, you can read,
and write, I might add. I do have proof.”

“H-how did you know?
No one else ever guessed.”

Julie held up the
little book of poems opened to the dedication page. Ian looked at
it and then at her. His pale eyes narrowed and stare back at her,
boring a hole through the book she held.

“It doesn’t matter,
you know. I can’t read anymore. I’ve tried many times, and—” He
broke off with a catch in his voice. Julie could almost hear the
crack in his facade. With just the right coaxing, she felt sure she
would have him reading in no time.

“Do you remember when you could last read?”

“Before. I know I could read before.”

“Before your parents drowned?”

He nodded his head and
tried to wipe away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
Julie put her arm around him, and his body trembled. He tried
valiantly to wipe away his tears.

“Ian, my dear, it’s
all right to cry. It might make you feel better.”

Ian did not break down
but sniffed until he gained control and stood like a little soldier
in front of Julie.

“Ian, what happens
when you try to read?”

“I can’t, I can’t, I
can’t,” he almost screamed.

“I know you’re
frustrated, but you have to try. What happens when you try to read?
Please tell me. Maybe I can help.”

“I-I can’t read. I see
the words, but they hurt my eyes, and I-I’m afraid I won’t remember
what the words are. My eyes hurt so much I can’t finish the
sentence…” Tears streamed once again down his face.

From the kettle on the
hob in the fireplace, Julie fixed him a hot cup of tea with lots of
sugar and lemon. She dried his tears and held him close until he
could take the cup and drink his tea. With this obstacle mounted,
and with the problem out in the open, she felt she was making
progress. She picked up his first primer and began by encouraging
him to read a small sentence with no more than three words in it.
His eyes hurt at first, and he cried again, but Ian did continue to
read with Julie’s help. Soon her student graduated to more complex
sentences. With Ian’s confidence bolstered, Julie hoped he would no
longer fight the lessons and would embrace learning.

Julie’s time at the
castle fell into a pattern of teaching as well as learning about
her charge. Yet she did enjoy her days off. Mrs. Highet looked
after Ian whenever Julie went out. Several small boats were
provided for the servants to utilize. She learned, with Ribble’s
help, to sail a small skiff by herself, and soon she enjoyed taking
it over to the mainland on her free days.

One particular
Saturday, she wandered aimlessly along the street before deciding
to go into Pearl’s Tea Room. Julie seated herself by the window and
watched the passersby to the south of the little shop. She had
almost finished her tea when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She
turned with a start to look up into the familiar eyes of her
ex-fiancé.

Geoffrey Hamilton
quickly took the seat across from her. He reached across the table
and took her hand.

“Geoffrey, you gave me
such a start. What on earth are you doing here?”

“Dr. Siddons is a
friend of my father-in-law. When he took ill, Dr. Prevost sent me
here to fill in for him and gain some practical experience on my
own. It’s a great opportunity to prove myself. But say, what good
fortune to find you were here also. I’d hoped we would run into
each other somewhere again. Our last meeting could not have been
more awkward, to say the least. Julie, I’ve missed you more than
you’ll ever know.”

“I’ve missed you too,
Geoffrey, but our parting was your choice. It was none of my doing.
By the way, how is your wife…Angela, isn’t it?” Julie said
bitterly. She tried to withdraw her hand, but he held her fast.

“You’re very kind to
speak to me. Oh, Julie, I’ve made a dreadful mistake. I thought I
could be happy, but after you, there could never be another. It was
foolish of me to think I could be satisfied with anyone else. The
money swayed my decision, and my parents were dead set for me to
marry well.”

Julie saw what could
have been sorrow in his eyes. Her heart began to soften. Her mind
raced back to the fateful day of the sale after her father died.
Some of the furniture at the vicarage belonged to the church, but
her parents brought most of the furniture with them, along with the
china, silverware, clothing, books, and odds and ends.

That morning, Julie
nervously paced the floor in front of the door. She had dreaded
this day for so long, and at last it was here. She put on her
bravest smile and looked at herself in the mirror hanging adjacent.
The night before, she had picked out a keepsake to remember her
mother and father. She decided to keep her mother’s pearls. Her
father had given them to her mother, and she gave them to Julie
just before she died. Tears soaked the cover of a well-worn Bible.
Her father prepared his sermons from this same Bible each week.
When the sale ended, her time for staying in the vicarage would
soon be over also.

At nine-thirty, the
morning already felt hot and humid. Julie sat in the shade of a
giant elm tree and waited. She thought about Geoffrey Hamilton and
wondered why he did not write. She wrote to him when her father
died and told him her circumstances.

It couldn’t have been
easy for him. He’d apprenticed to a doctor in Cornwall, and until
he became a full doctor, he wouldn’t make enough money to support
both of them. It would be at least two more years before they could
be married. Julie knew they had an understanding, but now her
situation had changed. Still, she hoped Geoffrey would not forget
her.

By mid-morning, people
began milling around her father’s last earthly possessions. They
reminded Julie of vultures. Their chatter all ran together into a
noisy drone. She wanted to flee the frenzy, but she stayed rooted
to her spot by the door, a smile permanently etched on her face.
When her panic subsided, she realized these were her father’s
friends. Nothing could be hidden from the prying eyes and listening
ears of a small village. They knew Julie’s circumstances. They only
came to help. Soon people were carting away what it had taken
Julie’s parents a lifetime to collect. She fought back the tears
and tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she watched each
piece go.

She had finished
helping a lady load her mother’s china onto a cart when she looked
up to see Geoffrey stepping out of a carriage. He and his mother
walked across the lawn toward her. She rushed over to him, a
welcoming smile on her lips, but the look on his face stilled her
heart.

Geoffrey Hamilton was
a tall, handsome man of four-and-twenty. His dark good looks turned
many heads, and many bonnets were set for him. Julie was not
indifferent to his good looks, nor was he to hers. Quite naturally
a friendship sprang up between them, and out of this love grew.
“Geoffrey, I’m so glad to see you. I knew you would not let me
down. How long can you stay?” she asked eagerly.