If only her father had given her that one thing. If only he had given her time, for surely that was not something he had gambled away also.
Chapter 2
“Do take a seat, Miss … Miss …?” Mr Shelford Winstanley, proprietor of the Winstanley Employment Registry, had clearly forgotten her name the moment she had given it.
Had she described herself as the Honorable Miss Georgette Darrington, then perhaps he might not have forgotten it quite so readily. However, Georgette knew that when one was penniless and homeless, to describe oneself in such a way was simply ridiculous.
“Darrington. Georgette Darrington,” she said, a little impatiently.
“Yes, of course,” he said and smiled at her. He had rather a long nose, and his small, beady eyes were quite close together. All in all, Georgette rather thought that he looked like some sort of bird of prey. “And please do take a seat, Miss Darrington,” he insisted again, this time holding a chair out for her.
“Thank you, Mr Winstanley.”
Georgette had only ever heard of employment registries because that was where her father tended to procure servants for his own household. And he had always referred to such establishments as servant registries because, in truth, that was exactly what they were. Everybody of her acquaintance referred to them as servant registries, and she could not help thinking that Mr Winstanley was somehow trying to give himself airs or at least give his little establishment airs, at any rate.
When she had first told her dearest friend, Henrietta Sheridan, of the dreadful circumstances in which she found herself, she had barely been able to speak the words. When she had finally come to tell Henrietta that she intended to find a good servant registry and offer her services in the hope of employment, she had simply cried. And Henrietta had cried also.
“Is it really so very bad, Georgette?” Henrietta had said, dabbing at her eyes with a crisp white handkerchief as Georgette herself did the very same.
“It is as bad as it can possibly be, Henrietta. The house in which we now sit in is soon to be sold to the highest bidder so that my father’s gambling debts might be paid off.”
“But surely there will be something left?” Henrietta had said hopefully.
“The attorney rather thinks that the proceeds from the sale will just about cover my father’s debts. There will be nothing left.”
“And must you really go to a servant registry office?” Henrietta had said, stumbling over the words.
“I have talked the whole thing out with Mr Wharton, and he can see no other path to choose. After all, I have no family. I have no near or distant cousins, nor anybody with whom I might stay. If I do not seek work as a governess, I shall have nothing. At least as a governess I shall, if nothing else, have a roof over my head and food to eat.”
“And, in truth, you will not be treated as one of the servants.” Henrietta, good friend that she was, had hurriedly dried her eyes and done what she could to appear optimistic.
“No, I shall not be exactly treated as one of the servants, but I shall not be one of the household either. I shall be neither one thing nor the other, shall I? Is that not the very tragedy of the governess?”
“I am sure that it would be far worse to be one of the servants, Georgette. At least you will be able to study and have pride in the fact that you are teaching all which you yourself have learned. You will be an educator, my dear.”
“Oh, Henrietta, whatever am I going to do without you?” Georgette had said, smiling through her tears. “Who will pretend that all shall be well when I am alone and do not have you with me?”
“I am not pretending, my dear. And even if we are parted, I shall write to you constantly. We shall still be friends, Georgette, wherever you are.”
“And I fear you shall be my only friend, Henrietta.”
“But you have so many friends and acquaintances, my dear Georgette. You really must not think that way.”
“Oh, Henrietta. When news of my misfortune is all over London, I shall be friendless. No young lady wants me as a reminder of what a sudden change in fortunes looks like. And none of them shall know what to say to me, so would choose not to speak to me at all than to have to suffer the awkwardness of such a conversation. My friends are not all as you are, Henrietta. You are a true friend, and that is all.”
“So, Miss Darrington, what sort of work would you be looking for?” Mr Shelford Winstanley brought Georgette back to the here and now with his curiously high-pitched voice coupled with the dreadful scraping of his chair as he drew it back.