“It is not appropriate for me to interview your staff, Hamilton. That is rather your job, do you not think?”
“I will not have you tell me what my job is, Aunt Cynthia. You most certainly do not have the facts which you claim that I myself lack. In truth, I rather wish I had not described my meeting with Miss Darrington. If I had not, then we would not be having this conversation, would we?”
“Oh, Hamilton, but I am glad that you have told me. I think you know as well as I do that the behaviour of some of your servants is quite reprehensible. After all, do you not see that that is why you have lost so many governesses already?”
“Perhaps if the governesses were not quite so confrontational with the servants then they might be treated a little better, do you not think?” he said vehemently, and Georgette almost gasped. She could hardly believe his determination to look around the truth instead of right at it.
“If this governess has been confrontational with the staff then she is the first of them. And I cannot help thinking that it is not without reason, Hamilton. After all, why would a young woman in need of a position such Miss Darrington is, seek to upset things if she did not have genuine concerns?”
Inasmuch as Georgette entirely agreed with Lady Lyndon, still she was not keen to hear herself described in such terms. Of course, it was true; she did need the position. Her fortunes had fallen, and it was her very position at Draycott Hall which highlighted it most clearly. And yet, she could find no comfort in logic.
“Who knows why these women speak as they do?” the Duke said, and Georgette recognized the tone.
It was the exasperated and somewhat patronizing tone he had used when she had first brought her concerns to him. She could quite imagine him sitting back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling in a great show of exasperation.
“Hamilton, that is not good enough. Surely you must see that a competent young woman such as Miss Darrington who, you admit yourself, has already made such great progress with the children, does not speak such things lightly or in an offhand manner. It cannot have been easy for her to have brought such a thing to your attention, especially in giving her first progress report to you.”
“The children are not cruelly treated, Aunt Cynthia. Whatever you think of me, I should never allow such a thing. In truth, I would have hoped for a better character reference from my own flesh and blood.”
“How ironic that you can quote flesh and blood when it suits you and ignore it when it does not.” Suddenly, Lady Lyndon sounded furious.
Georgette swallowed hard. Her mouth had gone dry, and she knew that the longer she stood where she was, the greater the chance of discovery. And yet, despite it all, she could not walk away.
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Eleri and Ffion are your nieces. They are the closest kin you have in this world, and yet you care nothing for them. Even the suggestion that they have been made upset by something that the nurse has said to them should be enough to have you marching through the corridors of Draycott demanding an explanation. But what do you do, Nephew? You do nothing.”
“Aunt Cynthia, I am warning you.” The Duke’s voice sounded dark, and Georgette wondered that he had a single person left in the world to care about him.
“You do nothing, Hamilton. You do not even seek to discover the truth. If there is even the slimmest of chances that those children are being poorly treated in your home, then it is for you to discover it. It is for you to put an end to it. The governess has shown great courage in even speaking to you on the subject for I have no doubt that it is already clear to her that you allow the upper-level servants to act in any manner they please as long as it does not disturb you. I cannot help admiring her for such courage and hope that your casual treatment and dismissal of her concerns does not find that young woman packing her bags and leaving. For if it does, Hamilton, then I cannot think that those poor children have an ally anywhere in this dreadful house.”
“Dreadful house?” The Duke was suddenly bellowing, and Georgette felt herself rather afraid. “If this is such a dreadful house, Aunt, then I wonder that you still attend. Perhaps you would be wiser not to come again.”
“The only thing that keeps me coming is the children. If it were not for them, I should not bother,” She said, and Georgette could hear the woman’s voice break. “No, that is not quite true. I keep coming because of you, Nephew. Because I remember the man you were and because I know that you cannot truly be so very disconnected from the world and everybody in it who would love you.”