Rebecca Smythe: Witch in Training || ONC 2021

Becky the Governess

The estate was bounded by neat hedges and well-manicured lawns which ended at the line of fig trees separating the Plimpton's property from that of their neighbors. A large white house vaguely resembling a wedding cake stood at the center of all that green. Rebecca's stomach growled and she clutched the leather handle of the case that Alston had given her. She knew she must be hungry but her mouth was suddenly very dry. She had spent her whole life in the tiny village of Shettlewood and this was by far the grandest property she had ever seen.

She felt cold beads of sweat begin to form on the back of her neck. Surely people with this much money would never believe that she had been educated by any reputable institution. Although Rebecca hated to admit it, the most educated woman she knew was Elizabeth Clark and even Elizabeth had only been tutored through primary school.

She considered making a run for it. She had actually heard of Codwater, where the Plimpton's home was situated, and thought she could make it into the city proper with little trouble. She was looking around for the nearest signpost when she heard a loud shriek to her left and found herself thrown from her feet and onto the cold damp of the gravel path beneath her.

Squinting against the glare of the bright blue sky, Rebecca saw two pairs of dark eyes and two heads of curly black hair.

"Well she's definitely not a psychic," said one of the figures with displeasure. "And her reflexes are much slower than the last one's."

"And she smells funny," the other said, prodding her with a stick for good measure.

"Alright boys, leave the poor woman alone!" A third voice had joined in the chaos.

"But mom!" whined the first boy. "We were only getting to know the new governess."

Rebecca's stomach lurched. It was too late to run. She only saw one viable course of action- to desperately try to salvage this disaster of a first impression. She hurriedly got to her feet and briskly brushed the dirt from her skirts. She pursed her lips in a way that she thought a governess might, attempting to look both stern and dignified.

Before her were two boys of about ten years of age, a tired looking woman with soft almond-colored eyes and wispy brown hair. She was wearing so many strings of pearls that it looked like she might collapse beneath their weight. Behind them stood a man in his early thirties with dark curly hair and haunting sea grey eyes.

"Mr. and Mrs. Plimpton I presume," said Rebecca, drawing out her vowels the way Elizabeth Clark did.

"Oh heavens no!" said the woman. A flush instantly colored her cheeks. "I'm Abigail Plimpton and this is Caldwell, our Warlock in residence." She indicated the man with the sea colored eyes. "These are my boys, Wilfred and Charles." The children were completely identical. Even Mrs. Plimpton couldn't seem to tell them apart for she made only a vague hand gesture in their general direction when she said their names. "Boys, could you introduce yourselves to your new governess?" Mrs. Plimpton's tone was pleading.

"Of course, Mum. Anything for you," said the first twin. "I'm Warles."

"And I'm Chilfred."

"We're nine and a half," they said in unison.

With tremendous dignity, they both bowed very deeply to Rebecca before running away in a fit of laughter and disappearing into the rows of hedges. Mrs. Plimpton looked thoroughly embarrassed but not surprised in the slightest.

"I am so sorry about their manners. You know how children can sometimes be- especially the gifted ones."

"Of course, I understand completely," Rebecca said, attempting to give Mrs. Plimpton a knowing nod. Truthfully she knew nothing about children but the Plimpton offspring seemed positively terrifying.