When Simon Carling showed up on the first page of The Wanton Governess, he was only a secondary characterâthe annoying brother of the hero, James. But he coaxed, cajoled, and even wheedled (although he will deny that) to get a starring role in his own story. âIâm brilliant, devastatingly attractive, and utterly incorrigible,â he told me. âYou know you canât resist.â
Fine, but if I had to work at it, so did he. I pitted him against a heroine with plans of her own and invoked the aid of a saint as well. This story is the result. Three guesses⦠Who won?
Hampshire, 1802
âItâs a toe bone,â Beatrix March said, and went on rummaging through her little leather chest.
Eudora, the eldest of the Ottersby sisters, dropped the silver reliquary onto the bed with a tiny shriek. âA bone?â
Beatrix refrained from rolling her eyes, but only because she was Eudoraâs governess and had to set an example of ladylike behaviour. âA twelve-hundred-year-old toe bone belonging to St. Davnet. Itâs a holy reliquary, and itâs been in my family for centuries. Aha!â She pulled a folded paper pattern from the bottom of the chest and spread it on the coverlet. âHereâs the one I was looking for. Beetle wing appliqué is very popular just now. This will make a lovely reticule.â
Eudora made an unenthusiastic sound of agreement. None of the Ottersby girls showed much interest in embroidery, but Eudora was the worst, because all she ever thought about was love. She picked up the little reliquary again, this time with only the tips of her fingers, and shook it. The bone rattled inside.
âGently, please!â Beatrix said. âHoly relics should be treated with reverence.â
Eudoraâs fingers tightened around the tarnished silver box and chain. âDoes one pray to it? Is it magic?â
âAccording to legend, it bestows family harmony upon the possessor.â Beatrix repacked several scarves and a paper of pins.
âFamily harmony?â Eudora pouted. âHow boring!â
âNot at all,â Beatrix said, without expecting her pupil to understand. The Ottersby household was the most unharmonious sheâd had the misfortune to work for, but Eudora had never known anything better. âHarmony is extremely important. In a family bound together by love, where everyone respects and cares for the others, all have a chance to flourish. In a family full of discord and strife, no one is happy.â She put out her hand, and Eudora dropped the reliquary into it with a petulant sigh.
Beatrix set the reliquary on a folded shawl, packed the rest of her fabric and silk threads on top, and buckled the lid shut. She pushed the chest under her bed and stood. Pointedly, she said, âI hope that when you marry, you will strive for love and harmony with your husband.â
Eudoraâs face paled. âThat will never happen. Mama will make me marry someone rich and horrid, because the only man I will ever love is afraid to talk to me!â
Unfortunately, this was all too likely. Lady Ottersby had grand ambitions for her daughters. Beatrix didnât believe in allowing relatives to get in the way of living oneâs life, which was why she had chosen never to marry. One never knew what men were really like until it was too late (or almost too late, in her own case). Beatrix had escaped marriage by a hair and wouldnât recommend it to any thinking woman.
Eudora wasnât given much to thinking, though. Shy Mr. Conk, who was reasonably well-off and lived in a neighbouring village, would make a good husband for her, if only he could be induced to stammer out a proposal.
âAll he needs is a good, sharp nudge,â Beatrix said.
âIâve been trying to nudge him for months,â Eudora retorted. âIt will take much, much more than that.â
I should never have mentioned love, Beatrix told herself two days later, when she realized that the reliquary was gone.
After the first shock of loss, she wasnât entirely surprised. Mr. Conk had dropped by the following day, sat tongue-tied with the ladies for ten minutes at most, and then escaped to the stables with Lord Ottersby to inspect a newly-purchased hunter. That evening, a determined stubbornness had crept into Eudoraâs already sullen demeanor, and when Beatrix had greeted her at the breakfast table the next morning, sheâd averted her eyes.