The Governess of White Stag Hall

Everything Changes

(image: Alvaro Serrano on unsplash)

Edith was grateful for the drive to the Pierces'. If nothing else, it gave her time to think on what she wanted to say.

The carriage eventually rattled to a stop in front of a row of expensive, recently constructed townhouses called the Green. She hadn't ever had cause to visit the area herself, but she remembered hearing of them as such things always caused a stir among the fashionable and those who sought to emulate them. At least, they were impressive to the eye–if not a little gaudy. Like most things the wealthy enjoyed.

Edith checked the address again. Two-twenty-eight was near the end of the row and Edith took a moment to ready herself before knocking at the door. There was a pause, which seemed to stretch on for a short eternity, and then a rigid, ancient-looking man, whom she could only assume was the butler, answered.

"I have an appointment with Mr. Arden Pierce ," she explained. "My name is Edith Belle."

She held out her card and the butler took it from her with two fingers which were knotted and gnarled like the roots of a great tree. Then he motioned her inside.

The butler said nothing as he departed, presumably to speak to his master, and Edith was left alone in the foyer, where the whole house seemed to close in on her. London's noises and smells were suffocating and inescapable outside, but there was palpable gloom in the air of the home. The foyer was done up with dark wood floors and paneled walls, which were very fashionable, but did little to make it feel warm or inviting.

"Miss Belle."

Edith snapped back to herself with a start and looked up, meeting the eyes of a tall man on the winding staircase. He was elegantly dressed and handsome, even though his cheeks were gaunt and that his dark hair was flecked with gray. His eyes seemed sad and there was something gentle and nonthreatening about his demeanor.

"Yes," Edith said quickly, forcing a smile.

The man descended the stairs quickly and then extended a hand to her as he approached. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Arden Pierce."

"Edith Belle. I want to thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice."

"Of course, of course," Pierce said dismissively. "My wife's cousin had nothing but glowing praise for you and I'm terribly sorry to hear about your father. Please, this way. We'll speak in my office."

Edith nodded and followed close on his heels.

The rest of the house was much the same as the foyer had been, though the dark furnishings and the dour, oil paintings of sour-faced people were a strange contrast to Pierce himself. He seemed kind, cheerful even and the bleakness of his surroundings did not at all suit him.

Pierce paused to open a door and then waved her into a sitting room near the rear of the home, which was furnished with the same dark colors and plush fabrics. Despite how light flooded in from outside it seemed to be swallowed by the heavy velvet of the draperies and the black walnut of the furniture.

The man directed Edith to an elegant settee and took the armchair opposite. "I thank you for coming," he said. "I know the rain makes a mess of the streets. My wife complains of them endlessly when we come to London."

Edith shook her head. "It was no trouble."

Pierce just smiled in reply and the exhaustion and pallor which hung so heavily upon him briefly vanished. "I'm glad to hear that," he said. "So, Hart's letter said that you are interested in becoming my daughter's governess?"

Well, he was nothing if not direct. Edith decided to do the same. "That's right," she said. "Of course, I was not educated for the purpose of educating others, but I assure you that I received the schooling of a proper, young woman and I was largely responsible for my sister's education."