The Lost Governess

Daylight and a storm cloud

              The day was bright and warm. The birds sang a happy song as tadpoles swam about the elegant ponds of the Teglev estate. Shura, however, was not out enjoying the day. It was 3:00pm, and she had not received word from Dmitri. They agreed to write everyday and decide when they would meet. Typically, she would receive his letter by midday, but she was not yet in possession of the day's word.
She gazed out her window at the golden sun. "Where is his letter?" she asked herself. She glanced at the journal before her, but she didn't want to write. She missed Dmitri. It had been three weeks since the engagement, and Shura had grown rather fond of the idea of marriage.
        Despite not wanting to marry Dmytri originally, they had agreed to learn to love each other in the coming years. That comforted Shura, although some mornings she would look in the mirror at the bruises on her chest and grow angry. She then would march down the stairs to breakfast to find that less bread was being served and the sugar dish for the tea disappeared.
         After the meals which Alyona demanded to lessen, she would instruct Shura of good manners, posture, fashion, and etiquette. Some of Shura's tutors, such as her algebra and biology tutors, stopped arriving every afternoon to instruct her. Alyona deemed them unnecessary, which was possibly the only dismissal of routine Shura was happy about. Her lessons of languages, history, religion, piano, and dance continued but was joined by Madame Baudelaire, an uptight French noble woman who helped Alyona teach Shura etiquette. She insisted upon lessening the amounts of food young Shura was served, an idea that Alyona adored and ordered to be carried out immediately. She also showed Alyona's tailors a French way of tying Shura's corset.
"Donne moi," Madame Baudelaire ordered in French, "Give me." The tailors handed her the laces of Shura's corset. Madame Baudelaire pulled the corset tighter than the strength of two tailors could muster, to which Shura shrieked. She could feel her ribs crushing underneath the corset.
"Hush!" Madame snapped at her.
"Madame, I can't- can't," Shura gasped for air.
"Be silent, you foolish girl! Resilience is key!" Madame handed the laces to a tailor and ordered, "Hold them as tight as this," and then she turned to speak to Shura face to face.
"What is my first rule? No speaking unless you are spoken to. Did I not make myself clear?" She stood in front of Shura, who's vision began to fail her.
"You are being spoken to now, so speak!"
"Ye-yes..." Shura croaked softly, and Madame couldn't hear her. Instantly, a slap came to Shura's face as quickly as the riptide. Her rings left a mark on her face, but Shura didn't realize it, for she fell backwards unconscious.
When she came to her senses, Madame was hovering over her with a disgusted look on her face, with Alyona mirroring her. Madame lifted her hand again, but Shura rolled out of the way. Her corset had been ever so slightly loosened from around her. With shaking knees, Shura lifted herself until she stood upright. She stared at her mother and Madame with cold, ferocious eyes. She wanted to make them wear corsets as tight as they put on her, take their bread away from them, but instead she bolted out the door. Madame shouted from the room, but Shura ran until she reached the ballroom downstairs. She spotted her father strolling through the gardens, and dashed towards him. He would protect her.
The moment she stepped into the garden, she froze in horror. She remembered the only top she had on was her corset, and she ducked into the bushes, hidden from a gardener who hastily turned away upon her entrance.
She shook while crouching, and then footsteps approached behind her. She glanced behind her to see her father standing over her. He knelt down to give her his overcoat.
"What has happened?" he asked gently.
"I can't do this anymore. Madame Dagger must leave." she declared in a deadly low voice.
"Madame Dagger?"
"Yes, in French, Baudelaire means 'dagger' or 'little knife.'"
"Why do you call her that?"
"Because she stabs my happiness with her ways."
"Oh? What has she done?"
"She pulled my corset so tight that I screamed. When I told her to take it off, she slapped me for speaking when not spoken to. Then I fainted. I couldn't breathe, Father, she was suffocating me!"
Alexander noticed the ring mark on his daughter's cheek and sighed.
"Let's get you inside."
When they entered the house, Madame and Alyona stood in the ballroom with their arms crossed.
"Alexandra," Alyona began, but Alexander lifted his hand as a way of saying, "No." Alyona was silent.
Shura rushed to her bedroom and dressed herself in the loosest dress she could find. She winced at the bruises on her ribs, and she noticed a section of her ribcage on her right side that was looking disfigured, almost like it was cracked. She shuddered, and laid on her bed weeping.
Tanya entered, her face flushed with excitement. "Shura, come out quickly!" she exclaimed.
"What is it?" Shura groaned, not wishing to move due to her throbbing ribs.
"Your father is confronting Madame Dagger!"
Shura leaped up and rushed into the hallway. The two of them creeped near the main corridor, from where they could hear the voices from a large parlor.
"I just want what is best for your daughter." it was Madame Dagger, spewing lies, Shura thought.
"Harming my daughter in these ways is not what is best for her. She needs to be taught etiquette in a safer, more influential way." Alexander replied sternly, using a tone Shura had never heard before.
"Alexander," Alyona spoke with a defensive voice, "Madame Baudelaire knows what she is doing. I trust her completely. One day, both you and Shura will be thanking her just like I am doing so now. Shura is behaving as the foolish little girl she is, and with Madame's teaching, she will no longer have such an attitude. We're making her perfect for Dmytri, and for the world."
"I believe that Dmytri knows Shura is already perfect, and wouldn't you agree that the Alkolovs would not be pleased with the treatment of their future daughter in law?" Alexander pressed.
Alyona looked at her husband with the shock of a thousand lightning bolts. "Shura is not nearly perfect, and change is needed. The Alkolovs too will be thanking Madame and I."
"Madame Baudelaire, you are dismissed. The future of your services under my roof will be determined momentarily. Please return to the foyer." Alexander said flatly.
Shura and Tanya ducked behind the wall and watched the fuming Madame Dagger march down the grand staircase. Nothing came from the parlor where the fate of Madame Dagger's instructions were being determined. Finally, Alexander said, "You could teach her. You arranged this marriage so it is time you step up to help her." Alyona sat in silence for a moment before swiftly disappearing out of the parlor. Alexander sighed, "She never can do the right thing, can she?"
Shura entered the parlor. "So she's staying?"
"No. I won't let her. I will find a way to dismiss her. Don't worry, dear," he replied.
"How so? Mother will never give in."
"I think I know a way." a gleam danced in his eye. Shura nodded her head and left the parlor, trusting her father.
Shura met Tanya in the corridor. "He says he'll find a way to dismiss her." she didn't look hopeful. "I have a message for you," Tanya replied, changing the subject.
"Oh?" Shura asked.
"It's from your Dmytri,"
"Oh, good! I've been waiting for his letter for a long time now! I wonder what was the delay?" She took the small envelope and read the message aloud.
"'Dear Shura, I am sorry for the delay. I woke with a headache and was abed until midday. Shall we meet for a walk at four o'clock?' The poor thing, a headache! I must write back." She dashed to her bedroom and wrote out a quick letter that stated her regret and approval of the walk.
At four o'clock Shura awaited in the foyer of her home for Dmytri. When he arrived, he greeted her with a kiss on her hand. Shura chuckled and said, "Why so formal?" he shrugged with a smile and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He took her hand and they walked out to the garden.
Arm in arm, they strolled through the flowers and down the stone paths. Finally, for once in her stressfully infuriating day of corsets and tutors, Shura felt relieved. She laid her head on his shoulder and he asked, "How was your day, Sasha?" he had been calling Shura by the pet name of Sasha, as when they were young children Dmytri had a speech issue and couldn't pronounce "Shura." This became a source of teasing from their families, but Shura was fond of the name Sasha, so it was designated as his personal nickname for her.
"Well, I had the usual circus of tutors. It seems to never end," she said with a sigh. "I'm very sorry to hear that," he replied gently. When he spoke, Shura smelled something that reminded her of the night of their ball. What was it? Then she remembered he had a headache earlier, and asked, "How are you feeling now?" Dmytri's eyes were suddenly fixated on a distant oak tree. "I am feeling much better, thank you." but Shura didn't hear him. What would she be thinking of from the ball?
Champagne. Headache.
"Sasha?" he asked, seeing her glazed eyes in daydream. She jolted back to reality, "Oh? I'm sorry. I am glad you are feeling better." she then went quiet.
Perhaps she didn't smell champagne. Maybe she was smelling flowers that were also at the table that night. Dmytri wouldn't casually drink, would he? No, he's not the type. Shura quickly tried to push it out of her mind.
"I suppose I am a little tired. I worked hard on a new dance routine today. Would you like to see it, Dima?" she brought her attention back to Dmytri, away from alcohol. "Of course!" he replied and they walked back to the mansion and into the ballroom. She put an elegant tune on the gramophone and danced her routine. After her last spin as she landed into her last position, her foot slipped and she lost her balance. Just as she began to fall, Dmytri rushed to her side to catch her.
He caught her in his arms, and held her for a moment. They looked each other in the eyes, smiling. Shura embraced the content moment, and she kissed him on the cheek. "You caught me," she said in awe. "I always will, my Sasha," he replied, gazing into her eyes. Shura was filled with warmth and hope. As she was held in his arms, she imagined him holding her in years to come, and a spark of anxiety went through her.
Tanya slipped into the ballroom, intending to inform Shura of a quarrel erupting between her parents over Madame Dagger, but she decided not to freeze the ice she saw breaking between Shura and her fiance, and so she exited the ballroom.
Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering snapped the couple out of their moment. Dmytri jumped as Shura gasped, nearly falling out of the jolted Dmytri's arms. "What was that?" Shura exclaimed, staring at him in shock.
"I don't know!" he replied in disbelief. Shura trotted out to the foyer and sprinted up the grand staircase. Dmytri caught up to her, who froze in horror when she realized the situation.
From inside a parlor, she heard her mother shouting, "Why can't you just listen to me, for once?" and her father calmly replied, "Alyona, I am trying to do the right thing for her..." Shura knew that they were speaking of Madame Dagger, and she spun to face Dmytri.
"You'd better go. I'm sorry." she said nervously.
"Is everything alright?" he asked in concern.
"No- I, yes. Everything is fine. They're just being a little petty." she took his arm and began rushing down the stairs. "But thank you for walking with me and letting me dance."
"Any time, Sasha." he responded, glancing up the stairs. "Are you sure everything is alright?"
"Yes, yes." Shura's face was flushed. "We shall write tomorrow?"
"Yes, of course."
"Perfect." she stood on her toes for a brief moment to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Goodbye, Dima."
"Goodbye, Sasha." he bid farewell and left for home.
Shura did not want him to know her parent's chaos. She didn't want him to worry or know the terrible things her mother does to her. She feared his guilt of the pain she goes through for their engagement. He already knows she didn't want the engagement, but as she grew closer to him, she looked forward to the wedding slightly more. She didn't want him thinking he was responsible for Alyona's abuse.
She started for the stairs, when Tanya rushed to her. "I want to warn you, your mother, she's... well upset." she anxiously glanced over her shoulder. "I know. Did you hear glass shatter? I wonder what she threw at him this time." Shura replied with an eye roll.
"I sent Dmytri away. I can't let him see this mess." Shura continued.
"You don't want him to see your mother's harm to you and your father?"
"Well, I fear his feeling of guilt. He might think that it's his fault that she's doing all of this."
"But his parents may be able to convince her otherwise."
"She's not one to change her mind based on others' opinion. Also, she would suspect that I complained to them and that I wasn't being the good fiance she wants me to be. I was told to never voice my feelings or opinions, not even to Dmytri. She'll be only more aggressive if she knows I informed the Alkolovs about her abuse."
"You could tell him not to say anything."
"He wouldn't listen. He cares too much, which I suppose can be a good thing, but in this case it would further harm me."
Tanya shook her head, "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say, I'm afraid." "Don't you worry about it." Shura sighed. The two of them crept up the staircase to the closed door of the parlor. They pressed their ears to the door, trying to hear the argument.
"You must stop this madness. Her health is failing. You're starving her, and her ribs are nearly broken. You are harming her in so many ways, how could you do this to your own daughter?" Alexander exclaimed.
"How dare you! I will raise her as I desire. I am doing what is right for her in this society. The women run the home and raise the children. Mind your own business. Respect the rules that I am teaching our children. What kind of example would you be if you don't demonstrate what I'm teaching them?" she fired back.
"I have a right to step in. Who made these rules that you claim to be so important? These are my children and I care for them, unlike you. Shura is fainting, starving, and screaming. Is this what you want for your daughter? Really? Just today, she ran outside after that woman you brought into our house almost broke her rib. Then, she slapped her for showing her pain. She was so desperate to get away she ran out into the garden in her corset. Why can't you realize she is suffering more than benefitting from this engagement you forced her into?" Alexander was roaring.
"I do not care that she was upset. I do not care if she was in pain. I want her to be taught what she needs for marriage, and if she cannot bite her tongue enough to obey, then she is bringing this upon herself. And as for her running into the garden wearing her corset, she was being foolish. If she could have enough patience for us to take it off of her, then she wouldn't have run outside looking like a whore." Shura, having heard this from the other side of the door, gasped as loud as thunder, when Tanya, on instinct, slapped her hand over her mouth. "Hush!" she hissed. Shura looked at her in shock. "I am sorry. That was out of line for me to do that." Tanya whispered and lowered her eyes. "No, don't be." Shura put her hand on her arm. They turned back to the door to hear Alexander's response.
"How could you call your daughter that? She was frightened, she did the right thing. And we both know you wouldn't have taken the corset off of her if she waited. She was protecting herself."
"From what? Discipline? Teaching?"
"Your abuse. Your controlling ways. Your suffocating tendencies are shredding your daughter in every way possible."
Alyona picked up a glass dish and with a shriek, thrust it at Alexander with all her might. Alexander stepped out of the direction of her throw and simply walked over to a small table with a bottle of wine and glasses. He poured a glass and handed it to her. She snatched it from him, and gulped the alcohol down in one sip. Just as she almost raised her hand to throw the glass at her husband, she handed it to him reluctantly for another drink. 
So, the next two hours consisted of the continuous cycle of Alexander fetching his domineering wife alcohol. Shura had eventually grown bored of eavesdropping the silence and demands of wine. She left to the courtyard, in a desperate attempt to clear her mind from the day.
"Could it be possible that I... love him?" she asked aloud. It was eight in the evening, the gardeners were long gone. She was alone in the dimming sun and vibrant scenes of the roses. The crickets chirped and the chipmunks returned to their tree branches for slumber. She sighed and walked to a rose bed.
"I know he cares for me, but I cannot forget the pain... I didn't want this, or him. I didn't want this marriage, but I can't give up. He might be crushed if I stop trying to love him and block him out of my daily life. But I cannot force my feelings and ignore what I truly believe." she buried her head in her hands. "Why must it be so hard?"
"I don't know either." said a sad voice behind her. Shura turned around to find her father.
"Father, I- how long have you been here?" she asked, confused.
"No matter that, shall we take our walk?" he replied, calm as usual. Even after hours of battling his wild wife, he was still composed and ready to listen to his daughter's issues.
"Yes, but what about Mother? She allowed you to stop serving her drinks?"
"Sergei is with her to keep her under control."
"Good luck to him controlling her."
"Well, keep her company, I suppose."
"As much as you know I love her binge drinkings, why don't we just stop giving her the drinks? We are not helping her at all."
"It's part of my plan, Alixsha, you will see." Shura stared at her father. He wants to contribute to her drunkenness?
"Let's take our walk," Alexander said, changing the subject. They climbed their coach and travelled to the Neva River. The night was warm and the sky was clear.
"How did your day go with Dmytri?"
"Good! We took a stroll and I performed my new ballet routine."
"So you are growing more fond of him?"
"Father, I never disliked him. I simply am stressed about Mother. I think that this could work, if I don't... shatter."
"Shatter?"
"I think I can be happy with Dmytri if I don't give up. If Mother pushes me over the line and I get too frustrated with her ideals, then I might give up on trying to build my relationship with Dmytri. But, throwing out Madame Dagger would certainly help."
"I am trying as hard as I can. When she gets enough liquor, she won't remember tonight. That's when we'll take action."
"Take action-" Shura suddenly decided not to question her father's plan.
"Don't you worry about it."
"Alright." they were quiet for a moment.
"Do you think that this would work better if she wasn't part of the engagement at all? I know you were upset about an arranged marriage in the first place."
"Of course I was upset about the arrangement. Now, I've understood that Dmytri and I could make this work, but I still have to deal with Mother. If she kept her hands off my lessons, food, and corsets, then I would certainly be content with the engagement." Alexander replied with a simple nod.
They returned home, to Anya's greeting at the door. Often, Anya would inform Shura that she was ordered to return to her chamber, but not this evening. Alyona likely couldn't remember she had a daughter.
"Are you returning to Mother?" Shura asked before climbing the stairs.
"Yes." her father replied.
"Well, tell her that her whore of a daughter says 'Good evening.'" a sly smile crossed Shura's face as she subtly confessed her eavesdropping, while such a wave of shock had never before come over Alexander.
"I see you heard her?"
"But of course!"
"Well she could not have been more out of line. Ignore her, I'll make sure she never repeats those words again." he replied firmly.
Shura nodded, and went to her sitting room. She gazed at the moon from the chaise by her windowsill.
"I think I love him. I think he might be worth the pain and abuse of Mother. But that may not be a problem after tonight." She spoke softly to the moon. She knew the glowing Luna in the sky couldn't truly hear her, but strangely it was Shura's one true comfort. She felt as though the moon listened and absorbed her words better than anyone in her life. She would always lurk in the dark of the night, when Shura felt free of the tyranny and abuse. She sat in silence for a few moments, taking in the peace of her suite. A small pain erupted in her.
She missed Dmytri. She wanted him sitting with her, on her chaise in the moonlight. She simply wanted his company, his warm kindness that Shura doted upon. She wanted him here, to tell him she loves him. But he wasn't.
Instead, she had her mother in another wing of the house, drunk as a sailor who finally reached shore. With her mother were her father and brother who would get her drunk enough to unfold a plan they sealed their lips of around her.
Shura looked at her engagement ring and then stood and went into her bedroom, where her music box stood on her nightstand. She played it every night, thinking of Dmytri. She played it, imagining the ball where they slipped out into a parlor from the dancing and he showed his care for her, comforting her from her mother's corset tying, but he never thought more of the pain she was in that night. That night was, however, only the beginning of the pain in the engagement that Shura began to believe could give her everything she ever wanted in a marriage.
In the other wing of the house, we see the true chaos that was blind to Shura. Upon reentering, Alexander caught a pillow Alyona drunkenly threw at him.
"Where is my whisky? You said you bring whisk," her speech was wildly slurred, and she hardly pushed the words through her lips.
"Sergei, would you mind fetching the whisky?" Alexander asked. When he had left to walk with Shura, his excuse was to fetch her a bottle of whisky from the cellar. He was much too distracted with the walk's conversation to remember the alcohol. Sergei obeyed, and left the parlor.
Alyona was stretched across a sofa, wine glass in hand. "Are you feeling tired, Alyona?" Alexander asked. She shook her head fast, and giggled.
"Well, do you still want the whisky?" Alexander looked tired. Alyona grabbed his collar, and brought his head close to her head, then shouted, "Yes!" which made Alexander break from her grasp with a sigh and an upcoming headache. Sergei returned and poured three glasses. "Father?" he offered Alexander a glass, which he refused. Alyona, on the other hand, leaped from the couch to snatch a whisky glass. Drinking half of it in one sip, she pranced over to the gramophone and put on a record. It was an Italian opera, and she decided to sing along with the violins and cellos. As she began loudly belting in Italian, Alexander buried his head in his hands and rubbed his temples.
Anya glanced in the parlor through the door, and after stuffing cotton in her ears, walked into the room that swelled with opera to retrieve some of the alcohol glasses. Alyona saw Anya and rushed to her, stumbling over herself, and began belting another verse of the opera infuriated Anya's ear. Alyona suddenly paused in the middle of a note, and giggled, before collapsing onto a sofa.
"I see she's back at it again?" Anya murmured to Alexander.
"Yes, and I am very sorry for the opera. You shall return to your quarters, you've done plenty today." Alexander smiled warmly. Anya nodded and exited.
"Are you going to go to sleep, my dear?" he asked softly.
"No! No, never!" she shouted with a giggle. She often sounds and acts like a disobedient small child when she is drunk.
"Alright, Alyona, would you like this bottle of wine?" he raised up an unopened bottle of red wine.
"Yes! Hand it over," she demanded.
"Well, we must discuss something first."
"No disussing, want wine," her speech slurred once more.
"Yes, discussing. We are discussing our daughter."
Sergei cut in and said, "Father, I'm not sure if this is going to work. Why don't we just stick with Plan A?" Plan A? What is that and is there a Plan B? We shall see.
"No daughter. I'm not care. Give the wine." Alyona was nearly shouting again.
"Alright, I will give you wine, if you agree to this."
"What?" she was impatient and uninterested.
"We will fire Madame Baudelaire, then we 'prepare' Shura for marriage in a healthier, safer way. Ok?"
Alyona gave a long, exhausted sigh. "Get rid her. I'm no care." she pointed at the wine. "Give it."
"Ahh, one more thing. Here, sign this." he handed her a fully written letter. It would be sent to Madame Boudelaire. She snatched the pen from him and scribbled her name. She threw it at him, and he said, "Thank you."
"Thank you," she said mockingly. "Give it," he finally handed her the bottle of wine. Once the cork was removed, she didn't care for her glass. She began drinking straight out of the bottle, and Sergei said, "This is what she really won't want to remember." he and Alexander chuckled. They knew she would later be appalled at the drunken her for being so unpoised and drinking out of the bottle.
"Let's get her to bed." Alexander sighed. Alexander went and picked her up off of the sofa. "Hahahaha! I am flying! Where's my wine?" she cried.
"We'll get you your wine when you get to bed." Alexander lied.
When they arrived at their bedroom, she was already knocked out cold in Alexander's arms. They left her on the bed, not bothering to wake Alyona's maid to dress her for sleep. They left her with a pitcher and glass of water, knowing the pain she'd be in come morning.
The house finally went to sleep, anxious of the fury Alyona would be in come morning.