Estelle
Ipushed a Victoria primer in front of Augusta after trying more than a dozen other texts. “Try this one.” It was a young reader for small children aged six or seven. I had used one similar for the twins.
Augusta enunciated each word. “If we do no ill we go to joy. But if our way be bad, we go to woe.”
“Well done.” I was pleased that after two days of examination, I had finally found a text that Augusta could read with ease. It was becoming increasingly clear to me why Lady Camden had insisted upon a governess for her daughter. Augusta excelled at mathematics but struggled in other subjects because of her inability to read well. She adequately applied herself, but the work frustrated her easily.
Augusta grimaced. “Thank you for not telling me I’m stupid.”
My brows rose. “Why would I do that?”
“All the others did.”
“That’s shameful.”
“Why else would I despise all my governesses? I could never perform well enough to please them.”
I wondered if her struggle to read had created a wedge between her and her mother too. While I could read with ease, I saw myself in her. My parents had also had high expectations for me, and I had spent long hours in the school room. Impressing them became an obsession to me.Father’s serious manner always left me wondering where I stood with him—if he really knew I existed. But with Mother, it had never been a question. While I know she loved me, I felt she cared more when I had accomplished something noteworthy. She wanted to prove to the English world that her Irish heritage had not held her daughter back.
“Augusta, has your mother kept you isolated because of your studies?”
Augusta played with a bent corner of her page. “Not entirely. I am free to visit friends—although there are only two I care for in Rivendale. The Lovelace sisters are exceptional company. They are rarely permitted visitors, but we often write back and forth as if we live thousands of miles apart instead of just the few between us.”
“I should like to meet them—when they are free next.”
“They would like you; I am sure of it. I will write to them and arrange a meeting at the first opportunity.”
I bit my bottom lip. Would they like me? I had not made many friends with other young ladies. I was too busy with my studies. I thought back to my original question. “What other outings can you take?”
“Oh, afternoon tea or picnics and the like. But they can be dreadfully boring unless the Lovelace sisters are in attendance. There isn’t anything else terribly exciting in our corner of the country. I could join the Ladies’ Sewing Society, but I’m only adept at making yarn balls for Gingersnaps. As for country dances and balls, Mother does not permit me to attend those—not until I have shown vast improvement in my studies and overall decorum. I fear I may never have a Season at this rate.”
As much as Augusta had fought off her governesses, I had a feeling that it had only been after years of trying—and yet, it had not been enough.
After my parents’ death, I asked myself if any of my efforts had been worth it. My entire existence revolved around pleasing them. But since learning was the only pursuit I knew, I threw myself back into my studiesat the same relentless pace that had been set for me before. All while Reginald had slipped into Father’s previous role—solemn and unaware of my existence.
I blinked away the memories, my fists unexpectedly clenching. This was not about me. It was about Augusta. I had come to terms with my own missed Season, but it did not sound as if she had. “Do you long to attend balls and have a Season?”
Augusta’s gaze swung to mine. “Would you believe me if I said no?”
I tried to keep my face impassive. I thought those were every young lady’s dream. “What is it that you want then?”
Augusta smiled. “No one has ever asked me that question. I suppose it would be diverting to attend a ball or two, but I will always prefer the country to London. I adore riding my horse through the open fields with the natural smells and sights of nature all around me. The only enticement of a Season would be to find a husband.”
“What about reading?” I glanced at the text in front of us.
She took longer to answer this time. “I rather hate stumbling over my words when I read aloud. I don’t want to be embarrassed any longer.”
These were motivations I could work with. “I suggest we focus on what you want then and keep practicing your reading. We will sprinkle in a variety of subjects to please your mother and see if we cannot at least get you to a ball by the time we are through. But absolutely no more snakes in beds.”
Augusta adopted an innocent expression. “I would never terrorize my friends.”
Friends. I rather liked the sound of that. I tried not to let it go to my head and tapped the selection. “We should get back to work. Can you tell me what this means?”
Augusta sighed. “If I continue to remain in my current state of ignorance, woe unto me and my future.”
I tried to stifle my smile. “Your comprehension is not the problem, which is a good sign.”
“No, the problem is that I would rather be out there than in here.” Augusta pointed to the window. Sunshine poured through it, creating a haze in the air above the small library table we sat at. “Miss Lewis, I know I promised to try my hardest as a thank-you for your accepting this position, but don’t you think we have been at this long enough? How about that boating lesson I promised you?”
