Stories of the Night

governess.

"Governess Lady. Governess Lady. Governess Lady."

Standing in front of the airport mirror, Japonica Lady spoke her new title over and over. She changed the emphasis on the words and tried to imagine them in a genuine English accent rather than her fake one.

One of the stall doors clicked open and a woman eyed her warily as she moved to a sink. Nica only smiled. Travel-weary strangers couldn't stamp out her excitement. She dried off her hands and grabbed the handle of her ratty suitcase.

Her phone jangled from the pocket of her coat while she headed for Ground Transportation. She unbuttoned the pocket and dug the device out. The number wasn't familiar to her so she hastily answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Japanika?"

She chuckled. Her name in the lilted accent sounded nearly romantic.

"This is she," she responded.

"This is Harry from Camden Manor. I'm here at the airport to collect you. Have you deplaned yet, Miss?"

"I have and I'll be outside in just a second!"

"Splendid. I will be waiting in a black sedan by Door Five. If you have any troubles, phone me back at this number."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be right out."

Her strides hastened as she hurried towards the transportation exits. Ads for London tours flashed across televisions and hung on banners along the walls. Uniformed people and restless family members stood about with whiteboards and "Welcome Home" signs. She read the placards on the ceilings, maneuvering around lost foreigners. At finding the correct number, she pushed through the door and stepped outside. A brisk wind flushed out the line of taxis and cars picking up pedestrians. Nica squinted in the brightness of the sun until she spotted a black sedan that wasn't a taxi. She beelined for it.

A man stepped out of the right side of the vehicle just once she was within reaching distance. She stopped short with a breathless smile.

"Please tell me you're Harry."

He turned to her, a thick mop of dark hair hanging over his forehead. A set of coal-black eyes peeked out from the fringe. His lips were a rosy, chapped red. He couldn't have been older than nineteen or so-no facial hair or wrinkles that she could see. Though she might have expected a butler's uniform or something similar, he was dressed in dark jeans and a sweater with a knit vest on top. His figure was thin and long, almost exaggerated in proportion.

"I am. And you are Miss Japanika, I hope?" He also smiled but it was close-lipped.

"Nica is best," she said, though she liked how her name sounded on his tongue.

"Nica it is then." He took her suitcase and stowed it in the trunk. "How do you do? How was the flight?"

"Long." She laughed in spite of herself as he opened the door to the backseat.

On the drive, they discussed her delay due to the snowstorms in Chicago and how rude people in a hurry could be. Harry assured her that the pace in Camden would be significantly slower.

"How are the children?" she finally asked. "Oliver and Katie?"

"Oliver has been fishing at the pond all morning and Katie was putting her dolls together for you when I left."

Nica's heart fluttered. "I can't wait to meet them."

"They have hardly been sleeping since their aunt informed them of your hire."

"Me either," she said quietly, grinning.

The ride to Camden lasted for two hours. They stopped halfway to use the restroom and eat lunch. Harry had brought along ham and cheese sandwiches with a steel thermos of black tea. Sitting at a bench beside a willow tree at a rest park, they nibbled on the sandwiches and sipped the warm brew from small travel mugs. Nica's mouth twisted up at the flavor.