A Governess for the Brooding Duke(61)
“I know it is not true, Your Grace because I would not speak Welsh with the girls knowing that Mrs Wells was coming. I do allow the girls to speak Welsh on occasion, Your Grace, but it is most certainly not when any of the servants might hear.”
“Miss Darrington,” he said, letting out a great breath of exasperation.
“I knew she was lying, Your Grace,” Mrs Wells said with a great air of satisfaction.
“I was not lying, Mrs Wells. I know that you did not hear me speaking Welsh at half-past three in the afternoon because I never do. And I have been open in my other activities, have I not?”
“You should be ashamed,” the nurse said, and the Duke looked at her sharply.
“No, there are people in this household that should be ashamed, Mrs Wells, but I am not one of them.” Anger suddenly overtook her, and Georgette knew that she would not suffer the injustice a moment longer. “You have lied this day simply to suit the dreadful passion for spite that you, Mrs Griffin, and Mr Pearson share. And you have done it with little regard for those children, for I have heard you bully them most cruelly. And do not think that I do not know that it was you who saw to it that the children were not fed simply to spite me. You, Mrs Wells, should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself. You are a grown woman, a nurse for goodness sake, and yet you bully and terrorize two tiny girls who have lost their own parents and everything they have ever known.”
“Miss Darrington!” The Duke began to rise from behind his desk.
“Your Grace, if you cannot see the truth of it, I do not know what else to say,” Georgette said, looking at him with blazing eyes. “And it breaks my heart to know that you would overlook the fact that a meal was withheld from your own flesh and blood, and yet you are quick to admonish me for something as simple as allowing two little girls to hold onto the last things they remember.” Tears were streaming down her face freely.
“Miss Darrington, you really must try to calm down,” the Duke said, advancing upon her.
“I cannot calm down, Your Grace,” she said angrily. “For I have witnessed bullying in this household, and I have witnessed such a dreadful determination to overlook it. Eleri and Ffion are not evil or low-born. They are two little girls who rather strike me as being almost entirely alone in this world. That is the shame of this house, Your Grace.” And with that, Georgette raised her hands to her face and covered her eyes.
“Well, I never,” Mrs Wells said, her voice full of delicious scandal.
“Leave us, Mrs Wells,” the Duke said firmly.
“Certainly, Your Grace.” The woman’s voice was so full of self-satisfaction that Georgette raised her head and glared at her.
Her lumpen and uneducated countenance showed most clearly that Mrs Wells knew she had won. She was going to leave the room whilst the Duke of Draycott dismissed the governess who had got above herself.
“Now!” the Duke bellowed, and Mrs Wells’ eyes opened as wide and as round as saucers.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she said, turning to scurry from the room.
In truth, Georgette rather wished that he had dismissed her from the room instead. She was so angry and upset and so afraid for the children that she could not control her emotions and she knew it. As she continued to stand in front of him, she bowed her head once more, desperately searching in the sleeve of her gown for a handkerchief.
“Here, take this,” the Duke said and pressed his own clean white handkerchief into her hand.
“Thank you,” she mumbled and hurriedly blotted at her tearstained face.
For several moments, neither one of them spoke. Georgette very much knew that she had said everything she could possibly say and more, and she knew that she ought not to say anything else.
However, it rather seemed that the Duke had been overcome with awkwardness again, and the confident firmness with which he had spoken to her upon her arrival seemed to have disappeared.
“I beg you would excuse me, Your Grace,” she said in a flurry when she thought he would not say a single thing.
“Miss Darrington, I cannot let you leave here in all this state,” he said, his voice very much gentler in tone.
“I am tired of my treatment in this house,” she said, her voice trembling once more. “I have been fed the most appalling food, and I have had to suffer to see those little children treated so cruelly simply as a means of upending me. And if it were not for the girls, I should hand my notices to you now.” The tears began to flow again, and she knew she must finish everything she wanted to say before she broke down into sobs. “But how can I leave them here? How can I leave them to be used by the servants as ammunition against the next governess who comes along? And yet, how can I bear to suffer another day under this roof, amidst so much hatred, and from every direction?”