The Governess: Balford Manor

Sarah Brandford was an old maid of 22 whose father had recently died leaving her penniless, alone and unprotected. Her godfather had recommended that she become the governess to the Earl of Barclay. He had a strange proposition for her, a proposition she could not refuse and feared to accept. Before she could sign the agreement, he had seduced her into submission. Would she become both governess and mother to his child.

SAMPLE

Sarah Brandford had thought that life would never change. Her father would live forever and would take care of her into her dotage, although he had called it taking care of him. Old maids, even well educated old maids, needed fathers or brothers to support them. The opportunities for women to take care of themselves were few and far between - unless they were willing to become a companion to a dowager, enter a nunnery or some other service that would pay their way. A chaperone for another old maid was definitely not for consideration since Sarah was only 22 herself. She had no siblings, her mother having died giving birth to her; no brothers, no sisters with generous husbands, no uncles or aunts. And now her father was dead ? killed by a runaway horse and a handsome carriage on his way home from the shop ? and she was alone in the world with no one to look after her.
It had been her godfather who had suggested the governess position at Balford Manor. He and the Earl were old friends. He had been a little confused about exactly what the position entailed, not knowing how many children the Earl had at the moment, but he had mentioned a salary that was more than generous and had acted as liaison to set the appointment.
Now here she stood before the oaken door of the Earl’s townhouse hoping against hope that she would be suitable and that the dreadful terror of an unknown future would be over. She daydreamed about teaching wonderful babies to be intelligent, reasoning citizens. She could think no further than the next fifteen or twenty years of taking care of other people’s children, saving her pennies and then perhaps retiring or moving on to another family perhaps this time as a chaperone or a companion. It was not a lovely picture, but it was the one she had. However, even that picture was dependent on this job.
The Butler opened the door to her knock and showed her in.
“His Lordship will be with you in a moment,” he said with a leer playing around his mouth and a bold appraisal of her body in his eye. She was a little shocked at the way he looked at her; surveying her as if she was a common woman or perhaps something worse.
“Thank you,” she replied, her voice cold and controlled. She handed him her cape, deciding to ignore the boldness of his stare. If she ignored him perhaps he would be embarrassed enough stop. If she acted the lady perhaps he would stand on notice that he had crossed a line with her and treat her with the deference to which she would be due as one of the upper level household. Old maids had little to protect them save their dignity. She leaned on hers.
It always surprised Sarah that no man had wanted her during what she had once thought of as her courting years. Sometimes she feared it was her brains. She couldn’t help but engage in conversation with the gentlemen who came to dine with her father and more often than not they had resented her. Sometimes she worried that it was her direct look. She could not pretend a shyness that she didn’t feel. When she was honest with herself, she knew it was the limits of her dowry. Her father had never been a wealthy man, her dowry had never been large enough to overcome her other obvious faults.
She had known the draw back had never been her looks. She was a strikingly beautiful woman. Her tawny curls flashed with light blond highlights courtesy of her long dead mother. Her surprisingly deep brown eyes fringed by thick black lashes were a gift from her father. Her lips were full and red; her cheeks always tinted pink ...