Jessica, avoiding the scrutiny of her sisters. She wanted to bury herself in learning and never, ever think of Mannerling again.
But when the lessons were over, there was no escape. Her sisters followed her into the room. ‘What has gone wrong?’ demanded Belinda. ‘Where did you go? I am sure you did not have the headache.’
Jessica slumped down in an armchair and stared bleakly at the rain running down the window.
‘I went to talk to Barry,’ she said.
‘We have been told not to gossip to the servants,’ said Lizzie primly.
‘How else was I to find out why he had not called?’ asked Jessica.
‘So what did he say?’ demanded Abigail.
Jessica told them in a flat voice of what she had learned. ‘You see what this means?’ she demanded. ‘We have no dowries to speak of. We are not even considered good enough to be invited to Mannerling any more, while such as Mary Judd is. I am sorry I have failed you, but there is nothing I can do. Mannerling is lost to us.’
Miss Trumble reflected that surely no governess had ever had such dutiful charges. In the days succeeding Barry’s bad news, the sisters, who had moved on to studying Latin and Greek, applied themselves so diligently to their work that Miss Trumble began to worry about them. When the weather turned fine again, she applied for permission from Lady Beverley to take them for walks and picnics. Lady Beverley gave that permission. She spent most of her days on a chaise longue in the parlour, doing nothing at all. Jessica’s failure, of which she had been told, had seemed to make her mother lose interest in life itself.
Gradually fresh air and exercise and a desire to forget all about Mannerling improved the sisters’ spirits. They became easier and friendlier. They even began to romp around with Lizzie, playing endless games of battledore and shuttlecock.
And that is how Robert Sommerville found them. He had gone back to his own home after his last confrontation with Jessica. But somehow he felt himself being drawn back to Mannerling. He had expected to see her with her family at the fête, but when he asked Mrs Devers about the absence of the Beverleys, she had said haughtily that as Harry would shortly be betrothed to Miss Habard, she did not want any penniless beauty such as Jessica Beverley spoiling things.
In the hope that this latest snub had brought Jessica to her senses, he had ridden over. He dismounted and stood for a few moments watching the happy scene on the lawn. Jessica, animated and flushed and with her auburn hair tousled, was laughing as she darted here and there after the flying shuttlecock.
Miss Trumble was the first to see him. She thought again with a pang that he looked so strong and handsome compared to the feckless Harry. He was wearing breeches and top-boots and Miss Trumble gave a sentimental little sigh. His legs were excellent. The girls saw him. Jessica put her hand up to her tumbled hair and then took it away again, her face hardening. Had it been Harry, she would have rushed into the house to arrange her hair and change out of the old gown she was wearing. But Robert did not deserve such trouble.
Miss Trumble advanced, smiling a welcome. ‘How good to see you, Mr Sommerville. Lady Beverley is resting.’
The girls all curtsied, cold looks on their faces. They had all heard Jessica’s speculation that Robert had turned Harry against her.
But when they were all gathered round the table under the cedar tree, the very fact that they had given up hopes of Mannerling made them realize that Robert was a charming man. He talked easily of his own home and the improvements he planned to make and then he asked if Jessica would walk with him for a little. Miss Trumble gave her permission and Jessica rose and went with him, wishing now she were wearing something prettier.
‘I wished to speak to you in private,’ he said. ‘My behaviour when I last saw you was not that of a gentleman. Pray accept my humble
But when the lessons were over, there was no escape. Her sisters followed her into the room. ‘What has gone wrong?’ demanded Belinda. ‘Where did you go? I am sure you did not have the headache.’
Jessica slumped down in an armchair and stared bleakly at the rain running down the window.
‘I went to talk to Barry,’ she said.
‘We have been told not to gossip to the servants,’ said Lizzie primly.
‘How else was I to find out why he had not called?’ asked Jessica.
‘So what did he say?’ demanded Abigail.
Jessica told them in a flat voice of what she had learned. ‘You see what this means?’ she demanded. ‘We have no dowries to speak of. We are not even considered good enough to be invited to Mannerling any more, while such as Mary Judd is. I am sorry I have failed you, but there is nothing I can do. Mannerling is lost to us.’
Miss Trumble reflected that surely no governess had ever had such dutiful charges. In the days succeeding Barry’s bad news, the sisters, who had moved on to studying Latin and Greek, applied themselves so diligently to their work that Miss Trumble began to worry about them. When the weather turned fine again, she applied for permission from Lady Beverley to take them for walks and picnics. Lady Beverley gave that permission. She spent most of her days on a chaise longue in the parlour, doing nothing at all. Jessica’s failure, of which she had been told, had seemed to make her mother lose interest in life itself.
Gradually fresh air and exercise and a desire to forget all about Mannerling improved the sisters’ spirits. They became easier and friendlier. They even began to romp around with Lizzie, playing endless games of battledore and shuttlecock.
And that is how Robert Sommerville found them. He had gone back to his own home after his last confrontation with Jessica. But somehow he felt himself being drawn back to Mannerling. He had expected to see her with her family at the fête, but when he asked Mrs Devers about the absence of the Beverleys, she had said haughtily that as Harry would shortly be betrothed to Miss Habard, she did not want any penniless beauty such as Jessica Beverley spoiling things.
In the hope that this latest snub had brought Jessica to her senses, he had ridden over. He dismounted and stood for a few moments watching the happy scene on the lawn. Jessica, animated and flushed and with her auburn hair tousled, was laughing as she darted here and there after the flying shuttlecock.
Miss Trumble was the first to see him. She thought again with a pang that he looked so strong and handsome compared to the feckless Harry. He was wearing breeches and top-boots and Miss Trumble gave a sentimental little sigh. His legs were excellent. The girls saw him. Jessica put her hand up to her tumbled hair and then took it away again, her face hardening. Had it been Harry, she would have rushed into the house to arrange her hair and change out of the old gown she was wearing. But Robert did not deserve such trouble.
Miss Trumble advanced, smiling a welcome. ‘How good to see you, Mr Sommerville. Lady Beverley is resting.’
The girls all curtsied, cold looks on their faces. They had all heard Jessica’s speculation that Robert had turned Harry against her.
But when they were all gathered round the table under the cedar tree, the very fact that they had given up hopes of Mannerling made them realize that Robert was a charming man. He talked easily of his own home and the improvements he planned to make and then he asked if Jessica would walk with him for a little. Miss Trumble gave her permission and Jessica rose and went with him, wishing now she were wearing something prettier.
‘I wished to speak to you in private,’ he said. ‘My behaviour when I last saw you was not that of a gentleman. Pray accept my humble
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