The Governess of Highland Hall (2 page)

He turned and glared at her. “Assistance?” His dark eyebrows rose to a haughty slant. “I suppose you know something about car engines?”

Julia lifted her chin, suppressing the urge to match his mocking tone. “No sir. But I’m on my way to Highland Hall, and I could ask someone there to come and help you if you like.”

He huffed, grabbed the rag lying on the car’s running board, and wiped his hands. “It won’t do any good. No one there knows a blasted thing about cars.” He tapped the gold Highland insignia on the door.

Julia stepped away, more than happy to leave the brooding chauffeur behind.

“Wait, you say you’re headed to Highland Hall?”

She turned and faced him again. “Yes, I have an interview with Mrs. Emmitt.” Perhaps if he knew she might soon be working for Sir William Ramsey, the new master of Highland Hall, he would treat her with a little more respect.

He narrowed his deep blue eyes and assessed her. “An interview? For what position?”

She looked away, debating the wisdom of continuing the conversation with a man who wasn’t civil enough to introduce himself.

“It’s all right. You can tell me.” He nodded to her, obviously expecting a reply.

“If you must know, I’m applying for the position of governess.”

A look of disbelief flashed across his face and the scowl returned. “You look too young. Do you have any experience?”

She straightened, trying to add another inch to her petite stature, but she was still at least a foot shorter than he. “I’ve been teaching children for nine years.”

“Really? Did you begin teaching when you were ten?”

She clenched her jaw. Was there no end to the man’s rudeness? “No sir. I was eighteen. And if you’ll excuse me, I must go, or I’ll be late for my appointment.” She turned and strode away.

“There’s no need to rush off in a huff.” He caught up with her. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“I’m not insulted, just intent on being punctual.” She cast him a quick
side glance. “I don’t have the time or luxury to stand by the roadside and fiddle with car engines.”

He grinned and then chuckled.

Heat flashed into her face. Infuriating man! How dare he laugh at her. She hurried on, not giving him the satisfaction of a reply.

“Well, pardon me.”

She sent him a withering look and walked on so quickly she got a stitch in her side.

With his long legs, he had no trouble keeping pace. “You certainly have spirit. I like that.”

She gulped in a big breath and spun toward him. “You, sir, are entirely too familiar and too rude for words!”

His jaw dropped, and he stared at her, wide-eyed.

With her face burning, she marched away. She’d only gone a few steps before regret overtook her.
Forgive me, Lord. I should not have spoken to him like that. But he was so ill mannered I couldn’t help myself
. She sighed and lifted her eyes to heaven.
I’m sorry. I know that’s not true. You’re faithful to give me the strength to control my tongue if I will only ask. But please, Lord, could You make him forget what I said? Or at least let me have little contact with him at Highland?

She doubted that last part of her prayer would be answered. While Highland Hall was a large house, the staff probably saw each other throughout the day.

What a terrible way to start off. No doubt he’d tell everyone she was hot-tempered and not worthy of the position of governess. And that was assuming she got the job. And she must. Her father’s illness had stretched on for months, forcing them to leave India and return to England. Now that he was unable to practice medicine, her parents depended on her for support. She must not let them down, no matter how humbling or difficult the job might be.

The lane curved to the right, and Highland Hall came into view. Julia’s steps slowed as she took in the lovely grounds and large house. It looked
more like a castle, standing four stories high at its tallest point, with a wide lawn and curved, gravel drive leading to the front door. It was built of sand-colored stone, and though some sections had turned yellow and gray with age, it still looked sturdy and imposing. A tall, round turret stood at the right corner, and an arched portico stretched halfway across the front of the house.

Oh Lord, that house is worth a fortune, and the people who live there are definitely used to a different life than I’ve lived. How will I ever fit in?

She shook her head, then straightened her shoulders. There was no time to fret, not if she wanted to make a good impression and arrive at the appointed hour. She made her way around the side of the house, following the directions Reverend Langford had given her.

A broad-shouldered man wearing a brown cap and tweed coat pushed a wheelbarrow toward the greenhouse. He stopped and nodded to her. “Can I help you, miss?” He looked about thirty-five and had a kind, honest face.

She returned his nod with a slight smile. “I have an appointment with Mrs. Emmitt.”

He pointed to a door tucked in a corner at the back of the house. “Just ring the bell there, miss, and someone will be along to help you.”

She thanked him and crossed the rear courtyard. Pulling in a deep breath, she smoothed her hand down her cloak and skirt and checked her hat. Everything seemed to be in place. Lifting her hand, she pressed the bell while her stomach fluttered like a nervous bird.

Only a few seconds passed before the door opened and a plump young woman with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes greeted her. She wore a white apron over her dark green servant’s uniform and a white cap. “How can I help you, miss?”

“I’m Julia Foster. I’m here to see Mrs. Emmitt.”

“Very good. Come this way.” She started down the steps and smiled over her shoulder. “I’m Lydia, one of the housemaids. Are you here about a position?”

“Yes.” Remembering her encounter with the brooding chauffeur, she decided not to add any more details. As they reached the bottom step, the
heavenly scent of baking bread and roasting meat floated toward her. She breathed deeply, savoring the smell. Her empty stomach contracted, reminding her that she had walked off the simple breakfast of porridge she’d eaten at seven.

Lydia led the way past the kitchen. Julia glanced through the doorway and saw two young women and a man in a white chef’s jacket chopping vegetables at the table in the center of the room. He said something to one of the women, but his French accent was so strong Julia couldn’t understand him.

“You’ll want to mind your p’s and q’s with Mrs. Emmitt,” Lydia said, continuing down the hallway. “She’s a stickler for proper manners and such. But you’re smart-looking. That should help it go well for you.”

“Thank you,” Julia murmured, though she wasn’t sure that was the right response.

“This is it.” Lydia stopped in front of a closed door. “Mug’s parlor, at least that’s what we call it.” She grinned and nodded. “Go on, then. Give it a knock, and good luck to you.”

Julia nodded to her, sent off one more silent prayer, then rapped on the door while the maid disappeared into another room.

The door swung open, and a stern-faced woman who appeared to be about sixty looked out at her. She wore a plain navy-blue dress with a cameo pinned at the high neck and a set of keys clipped to her waistband. Small, wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

“Good day, ma’am. I’m Julia Foster.”

“Come in. I’ve been expecting you.” She motioned toward the straight-backed chair by the fireplace while she lowered herself onto the settee. “Do you have your letters of reference?”

“Yes ma’am.” Julia took the letters from Reverend Langford and Lady Farnsworth from her handbag and gave them to Mrs. Emmitt.

The housekeeper pursed her lips and read Lady Farnsworth’s letter first. “She says your family has been acquainted with hers for many years.”

“Yes, my father served as her family physician since the time of her marriage to Lord Farnsworth.”

“I’m not sure what that has to do with you.” Mrs. Emmitt opened and read Reverend Langford’s letter next, her stern expression never softening. “It says you’ve been out of the country for twelve years. Is that correct?”

Julia nodded. “Our family has been serving in India since 1899 with the London Missionary Society.”

Mrs. Emmitt’s nose wrinkled slightly as her gaze dipped back to the letter. “You were a teacher there?”

“Yes, we opened a home for girls and ran a medical clinic for the village.”

Memories of India came flooding back—the overflowing marketplace, heavy with the scent of spices, the magenta flowers climbing the stone wall surrounding their home, the colorful embroidered saris of the women, and the beautiful dark faces of their girls … her students and the flowers of their ministry.

“Miss Foster?”

Julia blinked. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“How do you intend to teach the social skills our young ladies need to learn to enter society when you’ve been raised in”—she looked at Julia over the top of her glasses—“such a heathen environment?”

Heat infused her cheeks. “I was raised in Fulton by loving Christian parents who passed on their godly values and manners. I attended the village school until age twelve, then my mother taught me at home until I was fifteen. My training continued under my parents’ guidance when we traveled to India. My experiences there have given me unique opportunities to see God at work in the world and to interact with all types of people.”

Mrs. Emmitt took a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her nose. “Yes … all types of people.” She folded the letters and handed them back to Julia. “We’ve had a difficult time finding a governess. There are few qualified candidates in the area.”

Julia wasn’t sure what to say to that remark, so she kept silent.

Mrs. Emmitt sighed and gave a resigned nod. “Sir William has two children. His son, Andrew, is nine, and his daughter, Millicent, is six. Andrew
will most likely be going away to school within the year, but he needs someone to help him prepare. Millicent has poor health. She needs careful attention and should not overexert herself.”

Julia nodded, her hopes rising. Did this mean Mrs. Emmitt was satisfied with her qualifications?

“The children’s mother passed away three years ago, which may be the reason Andrew has had such a difficult time.”

Julia tensed. A difficult time? What did she mean?

“Sir William is also the guardian of his two young cousins,” Mrs. Emmitt continued. “Miss Katherine Ramsey turns eighteen next month, and Miss Penelope is fifteen. The girls have been raised here at Highland, and it’s been quite an adjustment for them to grieve their father’s death and see the estate passed to their second cousin once removed.” Mrs. Emmitt sent her a pained look. “It has been an adjustment for us all.”

Julia swallowed, trying to take it all in. “So I would be teaching Sir William’s children as well as the two young ladies?” Reverend Langford hadn’t mentioned Katherine and Penelope. No wonder Mrs. Emmitt wanted to know if Julia was prepared to teach social skills. Katherine was old enough to be presented at court and take part in the London social season.

“That’s correct.” Mrs. Emmitt nodded. “You would oversee all four, following a program for their education and training set out by Sir William.”

Julia had never taken part in the season, but her mother had, and she could probably advise her on how to help Katherine prepare.

“If that’s agreeable to you, I will take you to meet Sir William, and he can finish the interview.” Mrs. Emmitt stood and waited for Julia’s reply.

“Yes ma’am, I would be happy to meet him.” Julia rose.

“Come along then.” Mrs. Emmitt left the parlor and led the way up the stone staircase, past the green baize door, and into the great hall.

Julia’s eyes widened as she gazed up at the beautiful carved ceiling that arched high overhead. Richly colored tapestries and paintings of distinguished people hung on the paneled walls. Were they the past owners of Highland? A large fireplace with an elaborate marble mantle stood in the
center of the wall on her right, and opposite that, a grand oak staircase rose to an open gallery one floor above.

Mrs. Emmitt glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t dawdle.”

Julia dropped her gaze and hurried after the housekeeper. There would be time to take in the splendor of the house after she spoke to Sir William—if she got the job. A shiver of anticipation raced down her arms.

A stout butler in a neatly pressed black suit, white shirt, and black tie stepped forward to meet them. A touch of silver in his dark hair gave him a distinguished appearance. His excellent posture and calm expression announced he was a man of dignity and authority.

“Mr. Lawrence, this is Miss Foster. I am interviewing her for the position of governess. Is Sir William available to meet with her?”

Mr. Lawrence looked Julia over and gave a curt nod. “I’ll see.” He stepped through a nearby doorway, and she heard him say, “Miss Foster, the woman applying for the position of governess, is here to see you, sir.”

“Who? Oh yes. Have her come in.” Sir William’s voice seemed to carry a note of irritation.

Mr. Lawrence stepped out the door and nodded to them. Julia took a deep breath and followed Mrs. Emmitt into the room. Bookshelves lined the wall on the right, and opposite the door, three tall windows looked out on the side gardens. In the corner a man sat at a beautifully carved desk with his back to them. He put his pen aside and turned to face them.

A shock wave jolted Julia. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man she’d met on the lane, the man she supposed was the chauffeur. Her stomach tumbled to her feet, and her hopes fell with it.

“Miss Foster, please take a seat.” Sir William stood and nodded toward an overstuffed chair. His gaze shifted to the housekeeper. “That will be all, Mrs. Emmitt.”

The housekeeper stiffened. “Perhaps I should stay and—”

“That won’t be necessary.” His steady gaze made his meaning clear.

Mrs. Emmitt gave a curt nod, then turned and left the room. The butler followed.

Julia swallowed and sank into the chair.

“So, Miss Foster, you’ve come seeking the position of governess for my children and my two cousins?”