Chapter Two
June 14, 1817
Derbyshire, England
Miss Sarah Copeland bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming out her frustration while her charges continued to do whatever they bloody well pleased. The ten-year-old boy and the eight-year-old girl hadn’t been interested in reading from their primers, categorically refused to take on mathematics, and pooh-poohed the idea of entering a debate about current affairs. It seemed the only thing the two wished to spend time doing was creating havoc throughout the schoolroom and littering the floor with bits of paper. What was the purpose of being installed as a governess if the children she oversaw didn’t respect her authority or that of learning?
These children are the devil’s own spawn, I just know it.
Not that she was an expert on children; she had none of her own, and at this point, it wasn’t likely that she’d have a chance. The only reason she had the position she did was in exchange for room and board. And it wasn’t that she was opposed to children. Quite the opposite. They had the capacity to bring joy to everyone they were around as well as infuse one’s day with amusement or gratitude. However… these two were a handful, and due to the situation surrounding them all, they held unspoken power over her and her tenuous position in the household. Yet, she’d been here for five years. During that time, she’d instructed the oldest child, and it had been so much easier when he’d had a desire to learn.
If I’d had the choice, I certainly wouldn’t have come to Derbyshire and this vocation.
With a long-suffering sigh and a slight push of her silver-rimmed spectacles up the bridge of her nose, she looked toward the floor-to-ceiling schoolroom windows. No, this hadn’t been the life she would have chosen for herself. Once upon a time, she’d expected to tour London and perhaps Europe as part of a musical ensemble, for her talents lay in playing the flute. For the longest time, it had been her only passion as well as an escape, and she’d practiced every opportunity she’d had, for the dream of the stage had glimmered brightly. She’d wanted that life—lusted after it really—for she could have been onstage, clad in sumptuous gowns and glittering jewels while listening to the applause and acclaim of people in the audience.
For years, her parents had scrimped and saved so that she could go to London and audition, but they’d died unexpectedly. That’s when Sarah had discovered their pockets had been to let for years, and the coin they’d supposedly set aside had been as mythical as the dragons in storybooks, lost with the ship that had sunk and taken their lives. Her musical aspirations had been dashed.
Along with the rest of her future.
Without funds, she’d been forced to throw herself onto her great uncle’s mercy and his literal doorstep, which was how she’d landed her current position. Yet, such a life of drudgery hadn’t halted her secret hopes. Despite her advanced age and unwed status and the life of pseudo-servitude, Sarah hadn’t given up the dream of having a family of her own. Being a spinster, as well as a poor relation, didn’t lend itself well to opportunities, for her great-uncle rarely entertained. He was a skinflint and hated to part with the coin. Another reason she only drew the scantest of incomes, but she always carried a tiny kernel of hope deep down that her fortunes would somehow magically change.
That was the wonderful thing about hope: one could never have too much of it, and she refused to give up her dreams until life had shown her that they were absolutely rubbish and unattainable.
A childish grunt brought her out of her thoughts. She glanced at her charges. The girl currently stood on a chair in an attempt to retrieve her brother’s tin solider collection that he’d hidden on a top shelf days before. Constantly, the two bickered about their possessions until she wanted to tear out her hair.
One of the brightly shining hopes dulled around the edges. No, with the limited coin in her possession, there wouldn’t be a trip to London any time soon where she might have found word of a better position with an appropriately grateful family or even tried to audition with a musical troupe.
“Mary, come down off the chair. You are not a monkey.”
“But it’s not fair George hides his things from me. We’re supposed to share.” A whine had set up in the girl’s voice that set Sarah’s teeth on edge. “I want to play with them.” She strained up onto her tiptoes, but she still couldn’t reach her objective.
“You have plenty of your own toys,” Sarah reminded her. As her spectacles slid slowly down, she looked at the child from over their tops. “But now is not the time for play. We’re studying geography, remember.”
The ten-year-old boy crossed the room. He tugged on the hem of Mary’s dress until she came off the chair. “You only want to knock my toys about and break them seeing as how most of yours are beat up. I’m saving those soldiers for a great battle when Papa gives me a tin horse. My birthday is coming, and I’ve told him I want one.”
Ah yes, another opportunity for the indulgent parents to spoil the children. It wouldn’t harm the little dears to not possess everything they immediately wanted. “Please sit down, the both of you,” Sarah asked. “We are not discussing battle tactics or the greatest generals in history. In fact, I intend to return to world geography.” So help her, she would drum this information into their heads if it was the last thing she did. They needed to learn about the world around them—the world far away from the dull life found in Derbyshire. As the children took seats at the table, Sarah pointed to a place on the small globe that rested in front of her. “Now then, who can tell me how large the Holy Roman Empire is?”
“Oh, Miss Copeland.” A groan followed George’s outburst. “No one cares about that.” The tow-headed boy shrugged. “It’s not exciting, you see.”
“Exciting or not, you need to learn this, so you won’t be a bacon-brained idiot when you’re grown and sent out into the world.” Sarah prayed for patience while a sliver of jealousy wormed through her chest. Once George was grown and out of university, he’d no doubt partake on a trip to either America or the Continent. Lucky devil. While she whittled away at her remaining years, trying to put something intelligent between the ears of his sister. “I want you to become a scholarly adult who can think for himself.”
“I’ll wager Papa doesn’t know this sort of thing,” he said with a wave of a hand. “And he’s well-to-do and important. No one asks him about stodgy old things found on a globe.”
Yes, her great-uncle happened to be a baronet, but that didn’t mean anything if he hadn’t the capacity to conduct himself as a kind and compassionate person, which he was grudgingly. Annoyance twisted up her spine. She narrowed her eyes on the boy. “Don’t follow blindly in his footsteps. Why not make something of yourself?”
“He’s a success so I will be.”
At least he had confidence. “There’s more to life than that.” She blew out a breath in frustration and put her spectacles back into place. “What do you wish to converse upon then?” She asked because it was easier to give into curiosity than argue. There was only so much of that she could endure before becoming mentally exhausted.
The grin curving the boy’s thick lips was both awkward and horrid. “You.”
“Me?” She gaped at him, the spitting image of her great uncle, with his dirty blond hair, chinless visage, and rather stout build. He looked at her as if she were a bug pinned to a board. “Whyever for?”
“Papa said you’re here because you have no place else to go.” Apparently, that was his opening salvo, and he lifted an eyebrow as if he dared her to deny it.
“This is true enough.” She’d never made a secret of her life history, but the fact that these children knew it rankled. For that matter, how had she become the subject of familial discussion? She touched a finger to the silver locket she wore about her neck on a silver chain. It contained tiny miniature portraits of her parents shortly after they’d been married, and beside her flute was the most valuable possession she owned. “When my parents perished several years ago, I was left without recourse, so I sought out my great uncle, who is my father’s only sibling—your father.” If he hadn’t consented to take her in—since her mother had been an orphan—Sarah would have been in dire straits indeed.
The boy watched her with his beady eyes. “Papa also said that you’ll always be a governess, even though you haven’t any training, for you’re too old now to attract a man.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “You’ll forever hang onto Papa’s kindness until you die, no doubt.”