The Cottage in the Woods (6 page)

“Permit him? I didn’t permit him!”

“If it wasn’t permissiveness, it was negligence, and that’s no better,” he declared. “Allowing a young cub to escape your supervision in a place like this is unconscionable. Inexcusable.”

I was rendered speechless by this accusation, but I was unwilling to explain myself to this insufferable bear. His rush to judgment signaled to me a boorishness that placed him quite beneath my notice. No, if explanations were due, I would save them for Mr. Vaughn’s ears.

Accordingly, I chose to ignore the obnoxious beast altogether, and focused my attention completely on Teddy. “Are you
quite all right?” I asked him, checking his limbs for bumps or sprains. He nodded in the affirmative and gave a small sniff. He seemed none the worse for his adventure, though he was shaken and uncharacteristically quiet. Already I knew him well enough to surmise that this inhibition would not last for long. I thought it best to be as matter-of-fact as possible about the affair, so I took his paw and asked him if he was ready to go home.

“What, no thanks for the rescuer?” the tall bear asked sardonically. Determined not to behave as unreasonably as he had, I prompted Teddy to thank him.

“Thank you for fetching me, Mr. Bentley,” said Teddy, a little unevenly.

Hearing this, I connected the name to my conversation that morning with Mrs. Vaughn. “Bentley?” I echoed.

“Yes,” he replied, noting my recognition of the name. “I am Mr. Bentley, Mr. Vaughn’s clerk. And you, I presume, are the new governess, Miss Brown.”

“Yes,” I answered briefly, and was silent. Had it been anyone else, I might have said “Pleased to meet you,” but I wasn’t, and I preferred to be silent rather than insincere. The moment stretched out, long and awkward, but I did not speak.

“You may ignore me if you like,” said the gentleman, “but I assure you that I am on close terms with this cub’s father, and you will have to answer to him for this day’s misadventure.”

“Then I will answer—to him!” I retorted, and I turned my back with great dignity to walk away. I had not gone many steps when something—a stray breeze, perhaps—made me conscious of my bare legs. With horror I realized that my skirts and petticoats were still tucked up from when I had been wading, leaving my pantaloons and bare legs exposed for anyone to see—for that
arrogant cad to see. Appalled, I stopped and adjusted my clothing, only to hear a low chuckle behind me. I knew for certain no gentleman would have laughed at my predicament. Boiled with inner fury, I felt a scorching blush rise on my cheeks, and was thankful that it didn’t show. Teddy and I picked up our things and returned to the path by which we had come.

Still fuming, I made a concerted effort to put the ill feelings behind me and concentrate on Teddy. With a little encouragement, he began to talk about what had just happened, and was soon chattering away. He quickly recovered his normal aplomb and began to appreciate the experience as one with great storytelling value. By the time we reached the Cottage, he was bursting to find an audience, and headed straight for Mr. Vaughn’s den. I admonished him to knock first. Finding his father available for an interview, Teddy rushed to him, blurting disjointed exclamations like “I got way up higher than Miss Brown’s head!” and “The snake almost bit me!”

Mr. Vaughn focused an intense gaze on me, saying, “Miss Brown? What is the explanation for this?”

Starting to tremble, I told the whole story from beginning to end while Mr. Vaughn sat in his chair, listening attentively, his expression tense and serious. Finally he nodded, and turned to Teddy. “Well, my boy,” he said gravely, “you did nicely to recognize the viper. That’s
Vipera berus
, you know, in the Latin. And you got yourself away from it. That’s very important. Perhaps you needn’t have climbed QUITE so high, but we won’t quibble, eh? It was fortunate that Mr. Bentley often takes his lunch by the waterfall, fortunate indeed. I hope you thanked him?”

“Yes, Papa,” came the reply.

“Very well, then. I’m glad to see you safe. Run along to the schoolroom now while I have a word with Miss Brown.”

My stomach clenched. Would Mr. Vaughn blame me for what had happened? I braced myself to meet his condemnation as Teddy closed the door behind him.

Mr. Vaughn cleared his throat. He stood up and paced several times back and forth in front of his desk, holding his paws behind his back, and then he looked right at me. “I must ask you, Miss Brown, where your attention was while Teddy was encountering this snake.”

“Well, to be honest, sir, I think I was looking at the water, but I believed Teddy to be standing safely nearby.”

“And yet, had you been looking at him, he was not safe at all, was he?”

“No, sir. I heartily wish now that I had never taken my eyes off him.”

He fixed his piercing gaze on me and knit his brow. “It is pointless, Miss Brown, to wish one had behaved differently in retrospect. It is rather more important to prevent such close calls from happening in the first place, is it not?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, waiting for the ax to fall.

“Such incidents do not always end well enough to allow us the luxury of retrospection. Today, for example, there might have been a very different tale to tell—a tale of tragedy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And surely you realize that in weighing the balance between your assets and your obvious shortcomings, this episode tips the balance heavily toward your shortcomings?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered, my voice squeaking slightly.

“There is, however, the matter of the snake. I will say in fairness that it was very resourceful of you to handle the snake so well. Courageous too. I’m glad to see you are not one of those helpless females who faint at the first sign of danger.”

“No, sir. At least not with snakes, sir.”

“Well, then, let us say that on balance you have acquitted yourself adequately. I do expect that you will learn from this incident to be more attentive in the future.
Nolle prosequi
, Miss Brown,
nolle prosequi
. ‘We shall not prosecute further.’ ”

I thanked him, allowing myself a moment’s relief at my own narrow escape. Just as I was making my departure, Mr. Bentley came to the door. He bowed and held it open for me with exaggerated courtesy. “I regret that your employment here will be so brief,” he said, under his breath. “A pity that there will be no opportunity for our further acquaintance.” His eyes looked from my face to the frog in the jar I was still holding, and back again with obvious amusement, and I perceived, now that he was no longer in high dudgeon, that his face might have been considered by some to be handsome, though it was not so to me. I realized too that despite his height, he was younger than I had supposed: only a few years older than myself, I thought, probably just out of university. Still, old enough to know better!

“It is certainly true that there will be no opportunity for our further acquaintance,” I said, just as softly. “I will see to that. As for the rest, you will have to consult Mr. Vaughn. Good day, sir.” And with rather more dignity than the last time, I took my leave of him. Shrugging off my annoyance, I endeavored to put him out of my mind. Instead, I contemplated my encounter with Mr. Vaughn. Could he really expect me never to take my eyes off the cub for a second? Could I possibly live up to such a standard of vigilance? Could it really be good for Teddy to be so fussed over and protected? I could not help but wonder.

Back in the schoolroom, our immediate project was to fix up the new terrarium for occupation by the frog. This required
the assistance of old George, the gardener, to supply us with a small patch of turf, and some mud and stones. After much arranging, Teddy and I created a snug little amphibian apartment, where the frog immediately made himself comfortable. All that remained was one last expedition to a damp corner of the garden to collect some of the insects, slugs, and worms that made up the typical frog diet. Teddy had no aversion to handling the slimier creatures, but he observed me carefully to see if I would shrink from them. Barely out of my tomboy days, I had no such inhibitions, and held up a juicy worm to demonstrate the fact. This earned me a satisfied smile from Teddy, as if I had passed some kind of test. Soon we had collected a whole frog feast. We returned to the schoolroom and stocked the terrarium with our catches.

I was pleased to think that all the activities surrounding the frog had put the afternoon’s adventure right out of Teddy’s mind. Or so I believed. How easy it is to make light of the minds of the very young, as if their spirits were no more complicated than the simple games we give them to play, while all the time it is their perceptions that are keener and brighter, their memories more indelible, beckoning to them forever after.

Wishing only for a quiet space to set my jumbled thoughts in order, I took tea in my chamber. I found myself longing for someone to talk to, and so I wrote a long letter to Papa, detailing my first impressions of all my new acquaintances. Leaving out my dilemma over Nurse’s flask and her nasty threat, so as not to worry him, I imparted a much-diluted story of the incident at the waterfall. As I came to describe Mr. Bentley’s role, I wondered briefly whether I had been entirely fair to that bear. He had, after all, saved the day. Perhaps I shouldn’t have minded so much that his manner had been peremptory and judgmental. My thoughts were drawn back to our last encounter at the doorway to the den, where he had been so impertinent: so smugly confident that I would lose my position. No. The bear was a cad. There was no room for compromise. I skipped his part in the story. Lastly, I assured Papa that Teddy and I were fine and getting on swimmingly.

The morning lessons went well, with Teddy peppering me
with all sorts of questions, like “What is the French word for
worm
?” and “Do frogs have ears?” Some of these I could not answer, but wrote them down to look up later. For the afternoon’s natural history lesson, we stayed close to home, making a study of the trees surrounding the garden, their bark and leaves, and what color they were turning in the brisk fall air. We encountered nothing more dangerous than a wasps’ nest, to which we gave a wide berth. By teatime Teddy seemed pleasantly tired, but I, being used to more exercise, was restless and fidgety, and so I resolved to take a walk into the village and mail Papa’s letter.

I gulped down my tea, donned a shawl and bonnet, and made for the front drive. There the magnificent old trees had been left almost entirely in their natural state, a grove of somber giants abiding in their green tranquillity. A broad avenue had been cleared through their midst, with branches meeting overhead like the arches of a great cathedral. I set off down the drive, the very course I had taken only two days ago to come to the Cottage. I pressed on past the gatekeeper’s lodge and through the big iron gates, and headed off in the direction of Bremen Town. About a mile further on, I came to a little country church, which I had passed by on the way to the Cottage. I had paid it little mind then, but in the late-afternoon sun the stone façade took on a golden glow, and I paused to admire it.

Stepping closer to examine the carvings on the big double doors, I was startled when they opened and a little white-haired man emerged. He was dressed all in black, and wore a clerical collar. “Oh! Good day!” he said, looking up at me. “I was just leaving. Were you coming to call? I’m in no hurry.”

“Oh no, sir,” I said. “I was just admiring the church—the workmanship in these carvings. They must be very old.”

“Oh yes. They have been here longer than I have, and that is a very long time. You are new in these parts, I believe. Are you from the manor? I heard they were expecting a new governess. I am Reverend Dr. Snover, by the way. You’ll find that everyone knows everybody hereabouts.”

I answered that I was indeed the new governess, and introduced myself. He expressed great delight upon hearing my name, asking if I was the daughter of Ephraim Brown. It seemed that he too had known my father, having long ago been a professor of philosophy at the university where my father and Mr. Vaughn had studied. “I remember him vividly,” he mused. “He was one of a small circle of students who came to my home on Saturday evenings to engage in all manner of intellectual conversations and arguments. He and Walter Vaughn were my shining stars. Your mother too. Dear Sarah. She joined the group a year after them. My three—they could think rings around the rest of them. Such a pity that you have suffered so great a loss. Please accept my condolences, my dear.”

My mind was leaping to keep up. I felt as if I had stumbled across a great treasure trove of memories, and I didn’t want to lose even one of them. “Reverend Snover,” I said, “I’d love to hear stories of my parents in their youth. Perhaps when you have the time, you would share some of them with me?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “That would be lovely. Lovely. I always wondered what Ephraim and Sarah’s child would be like. My wife will be glad to know you too. You must come to the vicarage, let’s say a week from Friday, and join us for supper—tell me how you’ve turned out, my dear.”