Chapter Text
The Interview
“Mary told me those girls belonged to Alexander Colbourne,” Tom walked into the parlor. “Small wonder they were so objectionable.”
“Tom!” Mary admonished.
“Well, you cannot deny that the man is a miser and a recluse and owns not one quality I could call admirable.”
Charlotte had seldom seen Tom give so strong an opinion on a man. “What has this Mr. Colbourne done to cause you such offense?”
“He’s tried at every turn to obstruct my improvements, Charlotte,” Tom explained. “If he had his way, Sanditon would still be a fishing village.”
“I never heard you mention him before,” Charlotte found it curious that Tom felt so strongly about the mysterious Mr. Colbourne.
“That’s because I prefer not to think of him. In truth, he is rarely seen outside of his estate.”
“After the death of his wife some years ago, Mr. Colbourne largely withdrew from society,” Mary explained.
Arthur leaned forward, speaking with an ominous tone, “They say the precise circumstances of her death have never been explained.” He grinned mischievously.
“Oh, Arthur,” Mary shook her head at her brother-in-law in amusement.
*****
Charlotte Heywood turned onto the road to Heyrick Park, her eyes roaming the tree-lined path and the fields beyond. A herd of dairy cows spotted the field, grazing on the lush grass. Ahead of her, the stately manor appeared. She approached the door, wondering what it would be like to grow up in such a home, on such an estate.
Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled the bell next to the double wooden doors. After a few minutes, the doors opened, revealing the housekeeper she had met the day before.
“Miss Heywood,” she said. “I was not expecting you to return. Was there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, please. You said yesterday that you were looking for a new governess for Miss Markham and Miss Colbourne. I came to inquire about the position.”
The housekeeper looked pleasantly surprised, her eyes narrowing as she studied her. Charlotte thought she saw a hint of amusement as she nodded, but couldn’t fathom why. “Come with me. I’ll see if Mr. Colbourne is available to see you.”
“Thank you, Mrs…?”
“Wheatley,” she nodded as Charlotte followed her into the hall. “You may wait here.”
Mrs. Wheatley disappeared down a hallway, leaving her alone. She stared up at the portrait of a beautiful young woman hanging above the fireplace. Was this the late Mrs. Colbourne that Mary and Arthur had spoken of?
“Miss Heywood?” Mrs. Wheatley returned. “You may leave your things here and follow me. Mr. Colbourne can see you now.”
Charlotte removed her hat and gloves, setting them on the table. She followed the older woman around the corner into a study. Two walls were lined to the ceiling with books, and two large windows looked out onto the drive. Mr. Colbourne sat behind his desk, busily writing, his head down. A wiry-haired gray lurcher lay at his feet under the desk.
“Mr. Colbourne, Miss Heywood is here about the governess position,” Mrs. Wheatley addressed him. “She was the young lady that returned the girls from the parade.”
He glanced up briefly, his brown eyes taking her in. He was younger than she'd anticipated, and his brown hair was tousled as though he’d repeatedly raked his fingers through it. Surprisingly, his cheeks were unshaven, something rarely seen in a gentleman of such means. Still, Mary had said he had left Society many years ago, so she supposed a reclusive man such as himself simply didn’t care.
“Thank you,” he nodded and then called the housekeeper back. “One moment, Mrs. Wheatley.”
“Seven fifteens,” he said brusquely, not looking at her.
Charlotte frowned, unsure if he was indeed speaking to her. “I beg your pardon?”
“What are seven fifteens?” he repeated expectantly as he folded the note he’d been writing.
“A hundred and five,” she replied confidently.
“Capital of Argentina?”
“Buenos Aires.”
He quickly scrawled across the outside of the note. He’s left-handed, she noted idly. “Do you play an instrument?”
“Pianoforte. A little,” she admitted. She was most definitely out of practice.
“Mrs. Wheatley, will you see this is delivered today, please?” Mr. Colbourne handed the note to his housekeeper.
“Sir,” she said, taking the note and turning to leave the room.
He picked up a stack of notes from his desk, flipping through them. “Pouvez-vous tenir une conversation en français?”
“Oui, monsieur. Je peux parler français.”
Finally, he looked at her, indicating for her to sit. “Please.” He stood and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning against the edge with his booted feet crossed at the ankle and his arms crossed over his chest. The dog raised her head at the movement of her master, wondering why her sleep was being interrupted. “You have already met my daughter and my niece?”
“Yes, sir,” Charlotte’s head was starting to spin at the onslaught of questions.
“And that experience was not sufficient to deter you?” She thought she saw a glimmer of amusement in his warm brown eyes. He seemed to be challenging her in some way.
“On the contrary.”
“What did you make of them?”
She smiled, remembering her encounter with Leo and Augusta the day before. “Miss Colbourne has a keen imagination and Miss Markham a sharp wit.”
“By which you mean they are respectively feral and insolent,” a smile flickered quickly across his face.
“If I had meant that, sir, I would have said so,” Charlotte insisted. She was not going to back down.
“What those children require is discipline,” he said as he walked back around his desk and sat down. “Someone who will take them in hand. Leonora is nine years old and, despite what she seems to think, a girl. Augusta, on the other hand, is…well, you’ve met her. Her attempt to assert her maturity only proves the fact that she is still a child.”
“I believe independence of spirit is something to be encouraged,” Charlotte said with conviction.
“Really?” he challenged. “My brother and I had a governess who met independence of spirit with a leather belt. That’s how I learnt to behave.”
“Then I feel very sorry for you and your brother, sir.”
That seemed to give him pause for a moment, his face thoughtful…and perhaps a little surprised at her response. “I assume you have a letter of recommendation from your previous employer?”
She reached for her bag as she stood. “No, but I brought some work to show you. I have eleven younger brothers and sisters. I’ve been helping our father with their education for the past year.” She pulled the samples of worksheets she’d spent hours creating for her siblings from her bag and handed them to him.
“Then you are not a governess at all,” he said as he flipped through her papers. “You are here under false pretenses.”
She ignored his comment, unsure if he was teasing or serious. “I have some classical learning. Homer, Heraclitus. The English poets, of course. A deal of Shakespeare. Mathematics.”
“What use are poetry and mathematics to Augusta?” he demanded, his eyes flashing. “Society asks that a woman be accomplished, not learned. Trust me, Miss Heywood, I know what happens when a woman falls short of society’s expectations.”
There was something about his eyes and tone of his voice that made her believe that something had happened in his past, something that caused him to still feel resentment, anger, or pain…perhaps all three. It was clear that his experience was strongly coloring his opinion of what his daughter and niece should be taught by their governess. Charlotte had no interest in merely teaching young women and girls to become meek wives and mothers who withheld their opinions, if they even had them, simply because that was what Society expected of them.
“Then society is wrong, sir!” she said emphatically. “Why should your girls be deprived of an education on account of their sex? I would seek to open their minds to the world around them, not encourage them to be meekly submissive. So if that is what you are looking for, I apologize for wasting your time.”
She grabbed her portfolio of papers from his desk, turned on her heel, and walked out. She paused in the foyer, stuffing her papers back into her bag before she quickly put her hat and gloves back on.
Mrs. Wheatley appeared from the hallway. “Thank you, Mrs. Wheatley,” she nodded politely. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” With that, she walked out the door.
Disappointment quickly replaced the frustration she’d felt as she walked away from the imposing house. She had hoped that by securing a position as governess, she would be able to make an argument to her parents that she be allowed to stay in Sanditon rather than return to Willingden. Without a means of supporting herself, she would have no other option.
She turned at the sound of rapid, light steps on the gravel path behind her to see the gray lurcher that had been sleeping under Mr. Colbourne’s desk following her. Smiling, she crouched to greet the dog, scratching her ears. At least you approve of me, sweet girl.
The dog turned and ran back to the house, and she continued on her way, pondering what she would do next now that the governess position had not worked out the way she’d hoped. She thought back on her conversation with the master of the estate.
He could not have been more than five and thirty years old, possibly younger. He must have been quite young indeed when he became a father and then a widower. She supposed it must be quite demanding on his time running such a large estate as well as raising his young daughter, and then suddenly his niece, all on his own. She recalled Tom’s words that he was a recluse and Mary saying that he had withdrawn from Society after the death of his wife. Perhaps he was ill-equipped to be raising the girls on his own whilst still in mourning for his wife and was merely doing what he thought Society expected of him.
She felt a little guilty for expressing herself so candidly to him and a surge of compassion for the girls. Augusta had been so angry when she’d said she felt she was a prisoner for the past sixteen months and eleven days. Twelve days now. She was not so much younger than Charlotte herself and yet was dealing with the death of her parents and the upheaval of coming to live at her uncle’s estate. She knew nothing of her relationship with Mr. Colbourne, but it seemed as if the two must be at odds, given her resentful words and his description of her as insolent. There was a pall hanging over Heyrick Park, and it pained her to a surprising degree.
She wished she could have helped in some small way, but it seemed it was not meant to be.
*****
Alexander Colbourne stared after the enigmatic young woman who had just left his study. The room remained charged with her energy, and he felt decidedly unmoored. He could not recall another moment in his life when someone he had just met had left him feeling so flustered. For such a young woman, she had no reservations about sharing her opinions on raising girls to be well-educated, not just accomplished. He’d been struck speechless by the ferocity of her discourse. Her eyes had burned bright with passion, and he’d simply sat there and stared at her in awe.
None of the other applicants in the long stream of governesses had challenged him from the moment they’d walked into his study. Indeed, he’d been advised on numerous occasions how poorly his niece and daughter had been raised, how they were wild and undisciplined. One had adamantly argued that Leonora required a good spanking and had been summarily dismissed before she could take another breath. In all cases, they’d been stern, humorless women who hadn’t been able to rein in their charges.
In choosing a governess for his daughter and niece, he’d thought he was doing what was best for them by selecting experienced women who were well accomplished and firm. Women who could impart not only knowledge of what was expected of young ladies by Society but also instill the discipline and manners that both girls needed. He drew the line at physically disciplining his daughter and niece as his own governess had done. Otherwise, he expected a governess to maintain order while teaching her pupils to be respectable and accomplished young ladies.
He had been surprised to see such a young woman enter his study when Mrs. Wheatley had told him Miss Heywood was there to inquire about the governess position. He hadn’t realized at first that she was the same young woman who had brought the girls back from the parade the day before. He had immediately noted her soft brown eyes and tendrils of brown hair that framed her face. A face that stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in more than a decade. He’d quickly pushed those observations aside, mentally chastising himself.
In stark contrast to his prior governesses, Miss Heywood was young, intelligent, and passionate that Augusta and Leonora should have the opportunity to learn about the world around them, challenging the perceptions of Society that women should be meek, quiet, and only accomplished at womanly pursuits that would make them good wives and mothers. The type of woman Lucy had been raised to be.
Was he trying to force Augusta and Leo into the same mold as his late wife?
When he’d met Lucy, he’d been drawn to her beauty and easy way of conversing with anyone. She’d been charming and engaging and quick to laugh. She came to life when surrounded by adoring suitors and friends, most at ease in social settings that he found awkward and taxing. He’d been content to stand back and watch her as she happily flitted through balls, teas, dinners, and parties like a beautiful, delicate butterfly.
While Lucy could play the pianoforte, sing, paint, and do the finest of needlework with great skill, he’d never been able to engage her in any deep conversation on topics that interested him. She had no interest in history, literature, philosophy, or the sciences. Her French was barely passable, and she knew not a word of Latin. Given the opportunity, she would spend hours sharing the latest gossip but turn her nose up when he tried to tell her about the current state of affairs at Heyrick Park. She had little knowledge of the state of the world unless it had to do with the latest fashions from Paris or rumored pairings and scandals of the Ton. And she preferred it that way.
Giving pause to consider his niece and daughter, he could not view them in the same image as his late wife. Augusta was exceedingly well-read and could already speak French with great fluency. She likely did not need a governess to further her learning, but did need one to teach her the manners and ways of being introduced to Society. Her insolent behavior since she’d arrived at Heyrick Park had only grown worse as time had passed, and he saw no sign that she was ready to enter Society as she so frequently requested.
Leonora was in dire need of someone to take her in hand and not only educate her as befitting a child of her standing but to steer her towards becoming a young lady as she got older, rather than the wild child who ran around in a pair of his old breeches, waving sticks and playing with toy soldiers. Raised without a mother, she was often left to her own devices, roaming freely around the estate, climbing trees, and catching frogs, rather than learning to comport herself as a young lady should. So disinclined was she to learn her lessons that she often disappeared, leaving the various governesses to either wring their hands when they couldn’t find her or turn in their notice as they declared they could no longer rein her in. As if they’d ever been able to.
It was clearly evident from the string of failed governesses that something had to change in his approach to choosing someone for Leonora and Augusta. Shaking himself out of whatever spell he was under, he jumped up from his desk, grabbed his coat, and strode quickly to the hall. He would have to hurry to catch Miss Heywood before she made it back to town.
Xander had Hannibal saddled as quickly as possible and mounted, pressing his heels into the horse’s sides. He directed his horse towards the cliff path, pushing him into a cantor. As he rode through the field, his thoughts spun. He told himself that he was chasing her down because she was the only applicant for the governess position. He desperately needed a governess, and there were no other options available. Despite Miss Heywood’s relatively strong opinions and lack of experience, he could grudgingly admit that she was a quick thinker and her strong will just might be what was needed to put Augusta into her place.
Up ahead, he spotted her walking along the cliff towards town. He guided Hannibal to give her a wide berth so he could approach her from the front. “Miss Heywood, you did not wait to hear my decision.”
She blinked up at him, clearly surprised he had ridden after her. “There hardly seemed much point.”
“The position is yours. Presuming you still want it?”
She nodded, seemingly stunned that he was offering her the position after she had lectured him in his own study less than half an hour earlier.
“You start on Monday.” He tipped his hat and turned, briskly kicking Hannibal to ride back to the house.
*****
Florence Wheatley had been quite surprised to see Miss Heywood exit the study in haste and unescorted by Xander. The young lady had taken her hat and gloves, thanked her, and quickly left. But even more surprising was the sight of Xander abruptly leaving his study a few minutes later, pulling on his coat and calling for his hat. Without a further word, he’d headed towards the stable.
She had no idea what had happened between him and Miss Heywood that would have caused both of them to make such hurried departures. From what she had witnessed before she’d left the room, Xander had been rather dismissive in his questioning of her, despite the need for a governess and lack of any alternative applicants. She didn’t know if it was Miss Heywood’s young age that made him question her so brusquely or if it was merely frustration from having to interview yet another governess. But she’d always known him to be respectful, and any of his staff would attest that he was a fair and honorable employer.
It wasn’t that much later when Xander reappeared, striding into her small private office as she was reviewing the week’s grocery order. She raised her eyes, scrutinizing him. “I noticed Miss Heywood left rather quickly. I take that to mean she didn’t meet with your approval?”
Xander cleared his throat, “On the contrary. Miss Heywood will begin on Monday.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. He seemed to be trying to display a level of nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Strange that she didn’t seem pleased to have been offered the position when she left so abruptly. And I noticed you did not see her out. Did something happen, Xander?” Having known the young master since birth and essentially raising him since childhood after his mother had passed, she had no compunctions about referring to him by his family nickname when the two of them were alone.
His cheeks flushed. “Miss Heywood has some…strong opinions that she doesn't mind sharing. But she at least seems intelligent, well-read, and willing to take on the girls even after meeting them.” He twisted the ring on his finger, as he always did when flustered. “She has no experience beyond teaching her own brothers and sisters. However, I’ve decided to give her a trial, seeing as there’s been no luck finding any other suitable governesses. We’ll see how she does once Augusta and Leonora get their hands on her.” He turned toward the door before pausing and looking back at her. “I’d wager a shilling she doesn’t last the week.”
Interesting, she thought to herself. He sounded almost impressed by the young woman. Something about Miss Heywood has made a crack in his shell, small though it may be.
“I’ll wager a shilling she does,” she gave him a pointed look.