“Yes, he saved me from certain ruin,” she murmured with a fair amount of sarcasm. Heat slapped at Sarah’s cheeks, and once more her respect for her great uncle plummeted. “I don’t know that my age is necessarily a detriment to finding a match. There have been women older than me who’ve succeeded in that endeavor.”
George snorted. “It doesn’t appear as if you’re having much luck.”
The bald fact sent prickles of hurt into her chest. “There aren’t many places in Derbyshire to meet interesting people. That is hardly my fault.” Why the devil was she discussing something so personal with this small human? She didn’t need his judgment or condescension. “Besides, four and thirty isn’t all that old.”
Mary’s burst of laughter contradicted that statement. “Well, it’s not exactly young, is it?” She exchanged a knowing glance with her brother. “She’ll always be an old maid.” Then she turned her bright-eyed gaze back to Sarah. “No doubt I’ll be married before you.” Children were often terribly, horribly honest, and this was no exception. “And I plan to marry a man with loads of coin so I can always have the best, preferably in my come out Season.”
As dumbfounded as she was, Sarah kept a stranglehold on her temper. It wouldn’t do to show how much their conversation perturbed her, for they’d merely run and tattle to their mother, who would then tell her husband, and Sarah’s shaky foothold within the household would be forfeit. After pressing her lips together, she released a long sigh as her annoyance dissipated. “That’s enough personal talk for the day. Shall we return to our lessons—”
“Not yet, Miss Copeland.” Mary, with the typical unabashed confidence of an eight-year-old, interrupted. Interest sparkled in her blue eyes. “Are you an old maid? Mama said it’s an unfortunate thing to be, for that means no one will ever take an interest in you. Only a desperate man would look twice at an old maid.” She stared critically at Sarah with a slight frown. “You don’t really have much in the way of looks, but your hair is pretty. It’s like gold in the sunshine.”
Oh, dear heavens, make it stop.
“Thank you for the compliment.” However, she’d been forthright and strove to instruct the children the same. “It is a rather unfortunate thing, and the moniker doesn’t help, but the position itself isn’t so bad.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “I’d rather be an unwed old maid than a woman the same age trapped in a bad marriage. Being leg-shackled to a man with a temper or a violent streak is no way to live.” Of this she was certain. Never would she find herself attracted to someone like that.
“I have another question.” George looked up from the paper he was folding. “Papa said no one will ever marry you because you’re long in the tooth.”
“I hardly believe that’s true. Anything can happen.” At least that was what she kept telling herself. “Life is full of miracles.”
He snorted. “And you’re difficult besides. Always making demands.”
Both children stared at her with predatory anticipation.
Ah, so then asking for wood for her grate or food for her belly and enough of a monthly stipend for personal items was demanding, then? A flash of hot anger speared through her, but she reined it in by willpower alone. Of course, if given a choice, she wouldn’t have put herself in this position where she was treated little better than a servant, but only just. The trouble was the fact that the world was dominated by males who thought they knew best, and none of those thoughts was to make life better for people who didn’t directly benefit them.
But the children waited for answer, and in this, she would attempt to educate them as well. She lifted her chin a notch. “In this day and age, a woman—especially one without a man or family to look after her—needs to stand up for herself. That’s quite different than being difficult. It’s a matter of survival.” She held up a hand when George would have interrupted. “Kindness, compassion, and empathy is needed in our world, and it’s up to the men in charge to start showing it. No one should ever forget that the people who work for wages are the ones who support those who enjoy their leisure hiding behind a title.”
Dear heavens, if she weren’t careful, she’d say too much and then land in the soup for sure.
“What can women do?” George asked, as if the very idea appalled him. “They’re not as intelligent as men, and they’re a fat lot weaker.”
Ah, so despite her teaching, he’d grow into a prick anyway. “They can quietly guide men into doing what’s right.” And if that doesn’t work, a good smack to the back of head ought to set their brains into the proper mindset.
“But, you’re old, Miss Copeland,” the little miss continued, gazing at her with a critical eye, apparently like a dog with a bone when it came to the subject of age. “And your dresses are boring. Plus, you wear spectacles. Men don’t like that.”
Despite herself, Sarah blurted out, “How would you know?” She shoved the maligned eyewear back into place. They had a tendency to slip when she was annoyed or aggravated.
The girl shrugged. “Mama said so.”
So then, the gospel according to the wife of a no-name baronet. “I can’t afford to dress with frivolity or fashion. Besides, as you two have both pointed out, who would I see?” Though she despised that her circumstances had more than once been the subject of gossip—and in front of the children—she couldn’t deny it was the pitiful truth. Before the wad of bitterness in her chest could rear its ugly head, she tamped down on it. “Regardless, I’m not certain all of these reasons are the only ones I’m not wed. It’s quite a simple matter, really.” When they both stared at her, she continued. “No one has asked for my hand.” At least it was another truth. Even before she’d been forced to plead for her great uncle’s kindness, her ability to attract a man hadn’t resulted in a husband, let alone an outing or a dance. She’d been nice enough and polished enough, but men in the country didn’t have need for an intelligent woman whose natural inclination fell to music.
George kept folding his paper into what would soon be a hat. He’d recently learned the trick from one of the grooms. “I think it’s because you’re not a looker.”
Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “I’m hardly ugly.” In fact, just that morning when she’d washed her face and had peered into the mirror, she’d noted that her skin was as clear and vibrant as that of a younger woman. Her color was good, a nice strawberries and cream complexation. Sure, her vision required correction with the spectacles, but she wasn’t blind yet.
“It’s telling anyway, isn’t it?” He shrugged as if he didn’t much care on the matter.
Oh, these children were rude and spoiled. She had no choice except to play nice with them, for being a governess here was her last chance at respectability—and if she were given a favorable recommendation, a chance to gain a position with a better family in London. Which was one more steppingstone to where she needed to go. “Whether or not my looks are an impediment to a marriage is a private matter. I am quite done discussing this matter.” She tapped a geography book with her index finger. “Let’s return to lessons, shall we?”
“Not right now, Miss Copeland.” The boy rolled his eyes in a fair imitation of his father. “If someone did ask for your hand, would you marry him?”
Why wouldn’t this wretched child let the matter drop? Sarah put her finger on the globe and gave it a spin. What must it be like to have the freedom to travel the world to go wherever she wished without being a hanger-on to the edge of someone’s charity? “If a man asked, I suppose I would accept—if we got on well enough.” Doing so would take her away from this life of drudgery and not fitting in with either class. Plus, hopefully a marriage would mean putting more than a few counties between her and these children who had no manners. If he were supporting, she might be able to chase the dream of music on a stage…
“What if a man doesn’t ask you?” Mary asked with a pout as her brother donned his hat and wandered the schoolroom.
“Oh, good heavens, Mary, what do you think?” Sarah snapped off before she could recall the words. She swallowed a wad of unshed tears that lodged in her throat. “I’ll continue on here and teach the two of you until you’re old enough to go off to school.”
“That’s forever,” the girl said with a fair amount of disgust in her voice.