A Governess for the Brooding Duke(63)

“I’m very sorry about the cold water again this morning, Miss Darrington,” she began, her pretty little face so downcast that Georgette began to worry.



“Daisy, you must not trouble yourself. I am washed and dressed as you can see, and I have survived the experience. In truth, I am so used to it now that it does not trouble me. And it must not trouble you, Daisy, please.”



“You might be used to the water, Miss, but you cannot possibly this breakfast,” Daisy said, casting her eyes down to the plate of toast so burned it was barely recognizable.



Not only was the toast burned to cinders, but what she thought must have been a rather sizeable piece of pound cake had been pulverized into crumbs on the plate.



“I am so sorry, Miss,” Daisy said, a tear rolling down her face. “I really thought that things were getting better.”



“Oh Daisy, do come here,” Georgette said and pulled the maid into her arms and hugged her tightly. “I really cannot bear to see you so upset over this.”



“But they are hateful, Miss, really they are.”



“I know they are, Daisy,” Georgette said, rather thinking that if she did not have Daisy to look after in that moment, she would have wept herself.



“And they really want you to leave Draycott Hall.” Daisy sniffed loudly. “But I could not stand it if you did. I would miss you so much.”



“Believe me, Daisy, I am not going anywhere. Whatever it takes, they will not win.” Georgette was surprised by her own firmness. “They really have pushed me just a little too far this week, Daisy. This is not the first time I have had this conversation. Poor little Ffion, bless her sensitive heart, was also worried that I would leave. Their behaviour is quite unforgivable, Daisy. But do not worry; I am going to put a stop to this.”



“Oh, Miss,” Daisy said, her voice full of fear.



“Do not worry, Daisy. I shall do it all on my own account. I shall not mention you at all. After all, as far as they are concerned, you are simply delivering their appalling meals. They do not know of our friendship, nor shall they ever. It is our friendship, Daisy, and not a thing to do with them.”



“Thank you, Miss Darrington,” Daisy said, straightening up and drying her eyes on her handkerchief.



“Now you just leave the tray here and do not worry about another thing,” Georgette said, her tone full of confidence.



“Yes, Miss Darrington,” Daisy said and made to turn. Then, quite suddenly, she turned back again and flung her arms about Georgette’s neck. “Good luck, Miss,” she said, and then released her and hurried away down the corridor.



Leaving the tray on the table outside her room, Georgette walked back in for a moment and closed the door. She took several deep breaths in an attempt to steady herself. In truth, the breakfast was such an open declaration of hatred that she could not really look upon it without tears springing to her eyes. However, she knew that now was not the time for tears.



It was also not the time to placate her enemies any longer. She realized that it would not matter what she did or how much she kept their bullying to herself, they would never relent. She had rather convinced herself with one good meal that the tide had turned, and turned in her favour.



Knowing now that the tide would never turn, Georgette decided that she would give up on the notion of turning the other cheek. However, she would not take the matter to the Duke. She still did not know quite how things stood between them and, in truth, she did not relish the idea of meeting with him face-to-face.



No, she would simply go down into the kitchen and confront the housekeeper, the butler, or both. Whilst the cook had undoubtedly prepared the meal, she would have done so upon their instruction. When she had spoken to her previously about the lack of meals for the children when their luncheon had not been delivered, the woman had looked both ashamed and afraid in equal measure, and Georgette had known that she was not willingly a part of things. She was simply used as ammunition, in the way that the dreadful servants would use anybody who came into their path.



Georgette looked into the little glass that she had brought from home to make sure that her appearance was absolutely immaculate.



She was wearing a gown of dark burgundy which was very plain in its cut and rather high in the neckline. It had been a gown that she had not particularly been fond of in her London life, and yet since she had become a governess, it had become a favourite of hers. Not because she thought it made her look attractive in any way, but rather because it made her look smart and professional as she thought a governess should. And she was really rather glad that she had put the gown on that morning, for it very much summed up her current mood and her intention to undermine the household staff completely.