Sorry for the looong delay (by my standards, that is...)I had no internet connection for the whole of yesterday. Without much ado about nothing, Here's chapter 21! (bear with this one...it is essential for my story to get closure, and it shows Rachel in a different light from the sweet-tempered governess we know her to be)
CHAPTER 21
The first day of the New Year came and went, January morphed into February, and soon the spring air was cheerily invading every corner of Carillon Hall. Warmth permeated the chilly corridors, and the children swooped over the gardens out of sheer joy in being outside again. The gardeners started grumbling about their precious flower beds being wrecked by marauding little Herringfords, and in the last week of March Miss Warren took it upon herself to propose a picnic in the little dell off the woods surrounding the Hall. Sunlit and filled with crocuses at this time of the year, it would be simply lovely to behold. This suggestion was greeted with much alacrity by her students.
“What a lovely idea, Miss Warren!” Diana exclaimed ecstatically. “It would be so lovely to go to Blossom Vale, we have not walked that far for months!” To Alicia she whispered, “I really long to be free of the house again and go off on our own for some time. We can be completely free and act as we want without fear of being reprimanded by Mama or Papa.”
But plans were changed a bit when Rachel went to gain the permission of said ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’. Mrs. Herringford cracked a genteel smile at the notion of sitting under the temperate sun for a whole day. Mr. Herringford got his work completed so that he could be undisturbed. The whole family got ready to lounge around in the flower-filled meadow, even Brian – to Rachel and the Herringford girls’ understandable dismay. He is sure to tear the wings off every butterfly he sees, after trampling on every bloom in sight, Rachel thought mournfully as she went to discuss the all-important question of the picnic basket with Mrs. Talcott.
Xxxxx
Diana and Alicia had had the same notion. “We can’t let him blight our day out, Ally,” Diana said determinedly. “He will despoil the place, make Miss Warren run after him the whole time, and dampen everyone’s mood. We must keep him back somehow.”
“Easier said than done, Di,” Alicia replied imperturbably. “Can you see Brian staying back when there is pandemonium to be created?”
“Alas, most true indeed are the doom-laden words escaping your prescient lips. Gone, gone are the lovely days when my beloved brother was strung up by a leg. Ah, when will he leave for school and torture the schoolmasters instead of us?” Diana struck a dramatic pose to make her younger sister dissolve in giggles, before straightening up.
“I believe that we might see to it that he takes his milk like a good boy. Milk will make him grow big and strong enough to bother every unassuming creature in his path.” She winked at Alicia, making the other girl draw back a little in alarm. “What are you planning, Di? I do not, repeat do not like the glint in your eyes!”
Diana shrugged nonchalantly, before whispering in the other girl’s ear, “Well, you have to admit that I do share some blood with the greatest scourge mankind has ever known. It cannot but show on occasion; but I assure you that I will try to only use my gift for the betterment of mankind.”
Xxxxx
Brian developed a slight tummy-ache an hour before the party was ready to set out. It soon developed into bowel problems and there was no way he could go with them to the Vale. Mrs. Herringford stayed back to nurse him and try to ‘tease his appetite with some nourishing gruel’. Mr. Herringford had to go to fetch a doctor for his ailing son, who reported that apparently the child had ingested some mildly poisonous berries or herbs that irritated his insides, and will be perfectly fine again in a couple of days. On hearing this he was relieved enough to permit his older children to go along and enjoy themselves as planned, since Brian was in no danger and the poor things would be in the way at home in any case. Miss Warren was an adequate chaperone.
Within an hour the delighted maidens were already on their way to have an unblemished picnic, adroitly altering their plans for the day that sprawled gaily before them sans elders and monsters.
“You are evil,” Alicia whispered to Diana out of Rachel’s hearing. “Why thank you, sister dearest,” the latter replied with a grin.
Xxxxx
The girls had a glorious time together. They ran in abandoned fashion across the woods the moment they were away from anyone’s scrutiny, and plonked down their things under some trees before sitting down and absorbing the golden splendor around them. At such moments Rachel forgot that she was supposed to be their guide to proper decorum, and became as lighthearted as they. After all, at heart she was but a teenager herself. They waded in a little creek, splashed pebbles in its clear water like boys, wove flower garlands for each other and started a contest of quoting poetry glorifying nature. Rachel even succumbed to pressure and taught her charges the rudiments of climbing a tree.
Two and a half hours after arriving in the enchanted place Rachel was lying on her stomach in a most un-ladylike posture writing a long letter to the Trevelyan sisters, describing the loveliness around her and her contentment with life at present. Alicia had taken her sketchbook along, and was involved in drawing her sister who was sitting in the shade provided by a small tree playing a soft tune on her flute. She was trying to compose a melody commemorating the beauty around her, and had an intense look of concentration and introspection on her face. With her ash-blonde hair in a loose plait hanging over one shoulder and a forgotten flower tucked midway in the hair, Diana looked like the spirit of spring come to life and her fascinated sister tried her best to capture the magical moment.
This beautiful tableau was rudely disturbed by the inelegant arrival of a stranger in their midst. A young man suddenly marched up to Diana from a nearby clump of trees and impatiently chastised her without any preamble whatsoever, “You keep on dong it wrong! The problem is with the ending of the song. The breath control is faulty in the second half – you need more strength of lungs before you can carry the tune to the heights you are attempting. If it doesn’t work you’d do better to alter it. Perhaps a short trill to bridge the two notes together rather than trying to lift it too much?”
Diana was by then staring open-mouthed at him. So were Alicia and Rachel, who had hurriedly resumed a more decorous position at this curious man’s entry. What did he think he was doing, barging in like that and passing judgment on her music without even introducing himself? Diana’s face slowly became pink with anger and she stood up, glaring at this rude boy. Indeed, he was nothing more than a boy after all; he could not have seen not more than eighteen summers at the most. And here he was, offering criticism like an acclaimed musician without even a semblance of any opening!
It was Rachel who spoke up, seeing as Diana was shocked out of her speech. Possibly, nothing like this had ever happened in the fifteen years of her sheltered life. Rachel took on the mantle of the governess and inquired politely, “To whom do we owe the pleasure of conversing with, gracious Sir?” A steely undertone was evident in her voice. No one discomfited her students and got away with it. Oh, Rachel knew how to unsheathe her claws with the best of them!
The boy became aware of the others present in the glade, and perhaps realized for the first time that he might have made a social faux-pas. His tanned cheeks attained a slight flush as he pushed a distracted hand into his windswept dark hair. “I am Justin Ashton, Miss…” “Rachel Warren, good Sir,” was the saccharine answer. He bowed to her gallantly. “…Miss Warren. I am sorry for interrupting in this unpardonable manner, but I could not stop myself from speaking when I discerned that the young lady,” he gestured vaguely in Diana’s direction, “was repeatedly making the same mistake over and over and was unable to figure out where the problem lay.”
Rachel’s demeanor did not soften down. If anything, her eyes narrowed and she glared at the unknown youth. “Do you mean to say Mr. Ashton that you have been listening to her play for a long time? Perhaps you were spying at us while we were unaware of anyone else’s presence? I do not need to tell you about the impropriety of such an activity, I presume.” The glare which she sent at the hapless stranger following these words ought to have incinerated him on the spot.
No one would believe that she was only a year or so older than poor Mr. Ashton curling up in front of her, contemplated Alicia in wonder. In this moment, she is every inch the threatening chaperone chastising a man misbehaving with her charges.
She is so endearing! Ally concluded with a grin.
Justin backed away a step automatically, his blue eyes flashing alarm. He certainly didn’t think that endearing would have been an applicable term for Miss Warren at this point! “Oh, you misunderstand me, Miss Warren. I have not been looking at you three; not before entering this place, that is. I was…some distance away when I heard the song. Since it was being repeated persistently I guessed that someone was attempting to compose a new tune, and when the musician could not figure out where the mistake lay I felt that it should be explained to him, or…as the matter might be, her.” He waved in Diana’s direction again without meeting her eyes, once again pushing his hand through his hair. It was pretty clear to his female audience that this was an unconscious indication of his nervousness, and Alicia smirked inwardly.
Poor Mr. Ashton, she thought, he certainly doesn’t appear to be at ease right now…but then, he is being cornered by indignant females from at least two sides!
By then Diana had regained her powers of speech, and her indignation bubbled forth. “So you consider yourself to be such a great connoisseur of music that my playing jarred on your sensibilities? Did you stop to consider that perhaps I wanted to work out the kinks in my playing by myself? It is my first composition – I wanted it to belong exclusively to me, imperfections and all!” she was heaving emotionally by the end of her diatribe.
Justin smiled apologetically and rubbed the back of his neck, which was becoming a bright red out of mortification. “I – guess I didn’t consider that, no. I am really sorry, Miss…” but Diana made no attempt to introduce herself, leaving him fumbling on. “Ah, um, what I was saying is that – I did not think of it from that point of view. I was working on a composition of my own, and your playing was rather breaking my concentration. So I decided to help you along. It was meant to be a friendly gesture.”
And it would have secured you the peace you required in the bargain, no doubt, Rachel thought to herself.
“What composition were you working on, Mr. Ashton?” Diana asked, curious despite herself. “Are you a writer?”
“Oh no!” he laughed heartily at the notion. “I can barely write enough to pass my classes in University. No, I was composing a song; incidentally, one on a flute.” He took out a slender silver flute from his pocket deprecatingly and displayed it as Exhibit A in his defense. “You can understand how distracting it was to hear another flautist playing at such a time. Creating music strips me of social civilities, I am afraid.”
Diana was still skeptical. “And how come we did not hear you playing, but you were bothered by my flute?”
He grinned sheepishly. “I was up in a tree a hundred feet away, trying to ensure privacy. Sound carries over from here since it’s a valley, I guess.”
By then the sight of the lovely silver flute had destroyed most of Diana’s complaints about his presence. She longed to hear the notes which the instrument could produce. Surprising her chaperone, sister and quite possibly herself, she blurted out, “Will you play something for us?”
Xxxxx
The rest of the afternoon was spent in Justin’s company, which certainly improved with time. He was a friend from college of one of the boys in the neighborhood, and was here on a short visit. He was enjoying himself hugely; but sometimes the crowds got too much for him when the urge to compose took over, and then he usually ran to the woods to spend some, as he put it alliteratively, ‘meaningful moments with myself and music’. His father was a prosperous lawyer in London and Justin was studying to follow in his footsteps in the near future, though his heart belonged exclusively to music and all its manifestations. He was really talented with the flute, and Rachel could understand his impatience with Diana’s faulty playing on hearing his own compositions; the boy was almost professional in his genius.
His expressive eyes sparkled animatedly, and his voice was certainly captivating once he started talking on his favorite topics. He was a gentle soul as well, and even Alicia managed to lose her natural timidity around him and his teasing banter. Rachel took to him after realizing that the boy was evidently well brought up and discourtesy was the exception rather than the rule with him. As for Diana, she was already roping Justin into an animated discussion on preferred composers and instruments within a quarter of an hour, all the while gazing upon him with adoring eyes. Rachel decided that she would really have to talk with her elder charge seriously after returning home about such behavior. Her beauty and candid expression of feelings could be pretty potent for the other sex in large doses.
It just won’t do; she must act more sensibly. I wonder if she knows how lethal those melting eyes and a cooing voice can be for a susceptible young man, she thought amusedly. Justin kept on losing the thread of the conversation more than once whenever he chanced to look upon Diana for too long.
Finally it was time for the girls to return home. Diana seemed to fidget nervously all of a sudden and Justin did not know what to do. Neither of them wanted the delightful meeting to come to an end, but end it did eventually.
“Can I invite him over to our house?” Diana wondered with a blush. “He is such a gentleman; I cannot imagine Papa or Mama finding any fault with our continuing a…a friendship…with him. And oh, he is such a divine musician! I can learn ever so much from him. But can I really invite him to our house? Will it seem too forward? Oh Lord, will it appear brazen and unseemly?”
Alicia sensed her sister mentally wringing her hands, and almost laughed at her obvious dilemma. Oh Di, you owe me for this one, she thought before turning towards Justin with a bright smile. “It was a lovely experience meeting you Mr. Ashton. I am sure my parents would like to meet you and hear your wonderful compositions for themselves; they adore good music and we have so few musicians around here. Will you come and visit us sometime at Carillon Hall?” she finished sweetly, flashing an anxious look towards Miss Warren for approval.
She had never invited anyone to her home in her life, and it suddenly struck her that perhaps it was improper in her to issue invitations when her governess and elder sister were both present. Miss Warren inclined her head slightly in acquiescence even while her eyes signaled a warning – while she would let it pass this time, such impetuosity would not always be encouraged. Alicia was growing up, after all – she must be taught that young girls did not act like this. She sighed. Looks like I am going to talk seriously with both of them about decorum and propriety tonight. Ah me!
“I believe that your friend Paul Benetton is coming to Carillon Hall on Tuesday with his parents for tea, Mr. Ashton,” she said. “It would give us great pleasure if you were to come with them.” The unsaid part was obvious – we cannot invite you on our own, but we would be most pleased to renew our acquaintance through proper channels.
Alicia didn’t care; what counted was the end result. She flashed an uncharacteristically mischievous grin at the tomato-red face of Diana, before lowering her lashed demurely and listening to Justin’s delighted acceptance of the offer. For a man who burst upon her with a rebuke, he seemed to have impressed Diana plenty. This needed to be encouraged – and if she had to bear the censure of her parents and Miss Warren for her unwarranted actions, so be it. That was what sisters were for, after all.
Xxxxx
Diana was understandably distracted on their way back home and Rachel and Alicia exchanged sly glances with each other, but decided to be merciful and carried on a merry conversation between themselves that required little or no input from her. It is like their personalities have been reversed, thought Rachel in amusement. Diana’s lovesickness seems to have silenced her chatter and unleashed Alicia’s impish side. Now whether that is for the best or not, time will tell!
The sun was almost setting when they returned home. Sally met them at the door and took their spencer jackets off with a smile and inquired after their day before informing Rachel casually, “A letter has come for you Miss. I’ve kept it in your room safely.”
“Thank you, Sally. Is it from Kent or London?” Rachel asked absently as she untied her bonnet strings. It had to be from Miranda – her brothers had written to her only yesterday and Lucy had sent a few words in their mother’s letter a few days before that. It might be from Cassie brimming over with Little Hanstead news, of course. Unless Grace, that chronically poor correspondent, had deigned to spare some time from her family for her poor toiling sister…
“The letter was sent from London, Miss.”
All Rachel’s whimsical wonderings came to a halt. London? The only reason someone was writing from there would be if something bad had occurred…
She was about to bolt for her room when she was stopped by a discreet cough from behind. “Miss Warren,” Mr. Garner murmured, “Mrs. Herringford would like to see you in the parlor. If you would come with me…”
Rachel went to her employers in an impatient daze. I need to read that letter fast, she kept on telling herself. Why couldn’t they call me later? What is so important? Her heartbeat sped up. Has Brian taken a turn for the worse? Oh God, I don’t want the child to die, little fiend though he may be…
Her fears were put to rest on seeing the calm demeanor of the lady seated alone in her room. Mrs. Herringford beckoned her into the room before folding her hands decorously together.
“So how did your day go, Miss Warren? I hope you enjoyed yourself while my son was writhing in agony here?”
Rachel winced discreetly. She had learnt to take all barbs with equanimity by now, but some hits went to sensitive places. “How is Brian now, Madam?” She inquired politely. “He is better,” was the chilly answer. “Doctor Frost has prescribed rest and light food for a day, and there is an herbal concoction which my baby needs to drink at regular intervals. Little though you seem to care.”
“We wouldn’t have gone on with our plans if his malady had not seemed to be slight in nature, Madam. The girls had their hearts set on this outing for so long that it seemed to be a shame to stop them; and Mr. Herringford also gave his permission when I asked him before leaving.”
Mrs. Herringford tossed out this distasteful fact with a movement of her head. She was angry with the girls for enjoying themselves while she and her darling Brian had to stay back so ignominiously, and she intended the woman standing before her to be aware of the fact. But suddenly she remembered why she had called her in the first place, and her lips thinned even more. Miss Warren had something else to answer for as well. She leaned forward and charged forth without any preamble.
“Miss Warren, how do you know Miss Miranda de Manley?”
Xxxxx
Rachel’s heart almost lurched to a stop, before accelerating to a dangerous pace. This was really, really unexpected. Were her doings finally found out? “Wh-Why are you asking me this, Madam?” she hedged.
“Do not act coy with me, Miss Warren. I want to know the answer to a simple question. She has written to me to personally ask permission for you to go to London to attend some sort of soiree at her town house. She wants you to visit her for two or three days, citing –what was it again? Ah, yes –your old friendship as the reason behind her intense desire to meet you again after many years. So I was wondering – how is it that I never knew that you have such fashionable friends?”
Rachel's first emotion was relief. So it had been Miranda who wrote to her from London, after all. But what was this about a soiree? Why was she inviting Rachel of all people to a London party, knowing fully well that her time was not her own?
“Err, we met in…yes, we have been friends for a long time, though we mostly keep in touch through letters. She had been in Kent recently; I didn’t know that she had returned to London.” Rachel’s voice faltered as the other lady kept on gazing at her unwaveringly. “I do not need to go to her town house if you would rather I didn’t, Ma’am. I am sure that she would understand…”
“Oh, don’t let us cavil in such a manner,” Mrs. Herringford interposed impatiently. She waved a hand. “You know perfectly well that I cannot refuse such an influential person. Even if she wanted to keep you for another month away from your duties I cannot refuse,” she sneered. “Therefore, without much ado I give you leave to attend this party and keep your little friends happy. Just remember to return soon.” Heaving a martyred sigh she dismissed the governess from the room.
Well, she certainly loves to overreact, Rachel thought wryly. But the end result was so propitious that Rachel preferred not to criticize her employer’s actions and simply swept up to her room to read what Miranda had to say for herself.
Xxxxx
The letter was lying innocently on her bed, and she snatched it up in a moment.
“Dear Rachel, (it read)
“I hope you are in excellent fettle and welcoming the coming of spring with all the enthusiasm it deserves. I shifted back to London yesterday since my friends kept on insisting that I must not forget my bounden duty of entertaining them like the consummate hostess that I am. Ah, I am already missing my divine estate! The flowers were just peeking out shyly when I left…the meadows would be overflowing with them in a week’s time, I warrant. But I must not complain; I love my London life also, and it is really nice to be back in society after all those lonely months. I suppose I should consider myself to be lucky that I have two such enchanting places to dwell in, and let matters rest.
“The purpose of this letter is not only to rhapsodize about my current turn of fortunes but also to invite you to Rosemary Haven, my house in Town, for a little ball to be held on the 6th of April. I have been longing to meet with you in the flesh for ages, but always held back knowing that you may not get leave so soon after…all that. But now ample time has passed, and I thought that I might utilize the power of the de Manley name to twirl the circumstances a little. In fact, there is a deeper plan behind this invitation of mine.
“I know that your meetings with your family have been shortened after that month on my account, and I have always felt extremely guilty about this fact even if you were a dear and never tasked me with it. Therefore what I propose is this – you come up to London ostensibly to stay at my house, but you may live at your sister’s place till the night of the ball itself if you feel like it. Rest assured that I would adore having you with me in my house; but I thought that I should offer to be selfless and suggest the brilliant idea which occurred to me. Do not hesitate to acquaint me with your decision either way…both would give me equal pleasure and friends should not hide their feelings from each other. Even if you are unable to attend for some reason or the other, I beg you to be unhesitatingly frank with me. I do not know if it is a bad time for you to come now, and I would certainly not force you to attend my gathering – but I would be lying if I did not say that meeting you once again would make me extremely happy.
“Keeping any probable unpleasantness in mind, I have personally written to your employers about getting you some reprieve. I know that the lady for one would not have been accommodating enough if the proposal were to come from you directly. I must admit, it was a funny experience to write to them as Miranda de Manley…I almost felt like throwing a few ‘sirs’ and ‘madams’ in for good measure!
“So I will keep my letter short and sweet in hopes that you will ponder on my request all the quicker for it, and will put me out of my misery with your answer as soon as possible (Does it not sound like a horrid marriage proposal? I almost feel like sweeping you a courtly bow while flourishing a ring in your face! Though it would be most inappropriate…).
“Adieu for now, my fair friend. In hopes of seeing you soon, I remain,
Your loving friend,
Miranda de Manley
“p.s: Oh, did I tell you that Andy would have returned to England by then, and would be in attendance on the night of the ball?”
--xx--xx--
AN: Sooo...He's coming back!!! Three cheers for the Return of Andrew! I just wanted to give an indepth picture of the two girls before we shut the door on them. They really are darlings, and Rachel doesn't always know their potential, I believe. Therefore, I just had to have one chapter where we would get to see them in their own right instead of through Rachel's eyes.
(psst...we will get to see into Andrew's thoughts as well! But that's later - yes, later! Be patient!)
And how did you like seeing Rachel's fiercer side? :)
Finally, Merry Christmas to all you lovely people out there!