Dangerous Letters

Chapter Twenty-One

Letter XXXVII

February 03, 17–

Dear Mother and Father,

I have been feeling guilty as of late, because I have been considering leaving my position as governess, and yet I know that will be greatly upsetting to Villette who becomes more attached to me with every day. She refuses to allow her handmaid to wait on her, instead preferring that I attend to all of her little rituals of the day. I believe that I have had some positive influence on her; I have coaxed her from some of the rigidity of her habits, and more taxing commands. However, I have worried that her present dependence has created an impediment for the new Marquess ----------, to whom Lette remains unforgivably rude.

The Marquess is set to take a trip away with the Master, and I have decided to speak to Lette in their absence about her present conduct. How poorly it reflects upon me! I must have words, must speak very firmly to the child; her father has a remarkable tolerance for her insolence in almost all cases and thus it falls to me, I think, to remind her of the behaviour owed to a young Lady. Her night-time adventures too, I cannot continue to abide – not when the weather is wintry miserable and terribly dreary.

Oh, dearest mama, papa! I should be very reluctant to leave my little mademoiselle. How should she fare? Perhaps I could continue to write to her. Though, with children, sometimes it does not take very long for them to forget you at all. Then again, Villette is not like other children.

This is but a short and rather melancholic letter but it should not dampen the happy sentiment that I may be returning home, where I shall see you both much sooner than either of us had cause to hope! This is dependent, of course, on my securing an alternative employment – but I have written to Lady F---- on the subject and, furthermore, with a reference from a Marquis (for I am certain he will oblige) I think myself in the best of positions to now find something closer to home.

With love, etc,

CB

PS.

I am back in my room and have ensured that Villette is tucked in for the night. Something else has happened; Ms. Pennyworth has been turned away! I came in from the cold this evening, from where my letter left off, and walked into the most dreadful row. It was Madam L--- and Ms. Pennyworth is such a dreadful shouting match that I thought they would come to blows. Her ladyship was there, in tears. The Master too, very grave and unfriendly. Villette was my immediate thought and I rushed up the stairs; she was in her room, brushing her doll's hair very neatly. I told her not to worry about the commotion downstairs but she seemed entirely unconcerned and, after checking she was definitely unperturbed, I came back down to find that Ms. Pennyworth had been given her bags.

She was still in a furious temper and was crying out to the Master – "you haven't gotten rid of me, no no, this isn't the last of me. I know what you are about Sir, yes I do, mark my words". They had to force her to leave and she was pushed out into the cold – the Marquis ordering the footmen to ensure that she was escorted away before he went to comfort her ladyship who was utterly wracked with misery. At one instance, she said to him, "please call her back? She may be a very angry woman, but she has cared for me very well over the years."

The Master refused. He said that he would not tolerate such behaviour in his home and could not abide her language – which, he added, is not fit to be spoken in front of his wife nor daughter. I hastened to reassure him that Villette was fine. He thanked me and bade that I return to my room – chastening the others to do the same.

"The woman is not permitted onto my estate," he closed, "and if you see her again, you will tell me at once."

Privately, I feel bad for Ms. Pennyworth. She should not, of course, have acted so imprudently but I do believe that she had only the ladyship's interests at heart. I should try to be a friend to the Mistress in Ms. Pennyworth's absence, for I am sure she will miss her sorely.