"I am at my wits end," the Duke continued. "I know not what to do. Amy is such a lovely, kind, and talented little girl and yet five governesses have quit in the last several years. Those were only the ones who managed to stick the job out longer than a week."
He could feel Matilda stiffen beside him though she continued to say nothing. He knew he ought not have been admitting such things and yet he could not help it. Her silence needed to be filled and he had long since been holding everything inside.
"I do not understand it. They quit, claiming that my daughter is unbearable to be around, that her behaviour is comparable to that of a wild animal and yet, neither I, nor any of the other staff have ever seen evidence of such things."
Matilda was beginning to nod her head now as if she knew and understood everything that he was saying. She did not look at him directly, but he could feel that he had her full attention.
When she finally spoke, her voice was confident and reassuring, "Your Grace, children often have a struggle when it comes to their governess. Sometimes it is all just about finding the right fit."
Though she smiled, Watson was sure that he recognised some uncertainty flashing in her eyes. He was only glad to see that she was not too frightened to speak nor to smile at him. So often he felt as though the new servants he took into his employ were frightened to even look at him and he hated it. He gratefully appreciated the fact that Matilda was not acting that way and hoped that it would be another thing that would ease the transition for his daughter.
"I fear it is my fault," he sighed once more and lowered his head as he felt like it was becoming too heavy for his shoulders. The worry for his daughter had been playing heavily on his mind for many years. "Though her mother and I were never very close," he said, feeling her watching him as if she were looking for something revelatory that might give her some information on his daughter's behaviour.
"You see, our marriage was arranged. I do believe my wife would have been an excellent mother had she been given the chance. She was kind and smart and very nurturing and I was not always the best husband to her."
For several moments, the governess said nothing. Then, to his surprise, she reached out and laid a hand upon his shoulder. It was there only a moment, though it was long enough to offer him great comfort and he held onto the memory of it long after it was gone.
"You must not blame yourself, Your Grace," she insisted, placing her hand back on the book still in her lap. He could feel her watching him and yet could not bring himself to look at her. "You could not have known what would transpire. Many women die during childbirth."
Watson cringed at that, gritting his teeth to stop himself from snapping something repulsive. It was a gut reaction, the kind that always overtook him whenever he thought of his little girl losing her mother. Though he had long since stopped grieving his wife and the marriage lost, he had never gotten over what his daughter had lost in the process.
"I do not blame myself for my wife's death, Miss Percival," he assured her, finally allowing himself to look her in the eye as he added, "I blame myself for never giving my daughter another mother figure. Governesses and servants are all very good, but nothing can compare to the love of a mother."
For a brief moment, Watson feared that he might have offended the woman. Then she smiled and began to nod. "I could not agree more, Your Grace. Though, I do disagree that it is your fault."
Once more he was surprised by her forwardness, with how easily she spoke to him, yet he was not disgruntled by it. In fact, he found he rather liked it and his respect for her only grew.
"You could not have foreseen your wife's death, nor could you rush into picking another wife just for your daughter's sake," the governess continued, and Watson felt as though some of the weight was being lifted from his shoulders.
"Yes, every girl needs a mother figure but that does not have to come from her true mother or even the wife of her father. A mother figure may be anyone a girl looks up to."
Watson was reassured by her words, nodding as he took them in and he could not help but smile when she added, "As I said before, it is all about finding the perfect fit."
I think I may just have found it,Watson thought though he did not dare to say the words out loud in case he somehow managed to put a curse upon the entire conversation.
There was quiet in the room for several moments before Matilda suggested, "I think perhaps I ought to retire for the night, if you will permit me, Your Grace?”
She paused in getting up from the sofa as if waiting for his permission. The sudden urge to keep her there was almost overwhelming. The calming, quiet confidence about her made him wish for her to stay just a little while longer.
“One more moment, if you will offer it to me, Matilda?”
She rested back slightly, clearly stopping in her attempt to remove herself from the room. Looking at him with genuine curiosity, she smiled and said, “Is there something else you wished to discuss, Your Grace?”
“Yes, I am sure Quintin has made you very aware of everything that I expect of you as per our agreement, but I would like to be sure on the matter,” he explained, realising that this was the first time he could actually speak to her face to face on what he expected of a governess beneath his roof.
Quintin had assured him she was well informed on everything, but he wanted to be certain. The last thing he wanted was to lose another governess because something had been missed.
“Of course, Your Grace.” She nodded and then paused, looking at him expectantly.
“As I have made you aware, my daughter is lacking a mother figure and therefore you may be expected to do more than what you might have experienced in your previous positions,” Watson told her.
“Though I have most of Amy’s education in hand, there are things that I cannot teach her and others that I feel a tutor would not be able to help her with either. Things like needlework and other such feminine things.”
Matilda started to smirk at him then, her eyes gleaming as though she found something humorous.
“Is something amusing, Miss Percival?”
Her eyes still sparking, Matilda pressed the tips of her fingers against her pursed lips, looking as though she was trying her hardest to hold back her laughter. It did not anger Watson as he might have expected it to and instead, he found it rather endearing.