Page 20 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

“Very well. I shall ask my questions; if you answer correctly, you can have the rest of the day to yourself. Let us start. Who is our present monarch?”

Charlotte grinned at her with an impish sparkle in her eyes as she bent forward.

“You seek to trick me, Miss Haddington. You think I will say, George, the Prince Regent, but he is merely the Regent. The monarch is his father, George the Third.”

Lydia nodded; she'd expected the daughter of a duke to know the answer.

“And what is his title?” she asked eagerly.

“The King of Great Britain and Ireland, of course,” Charlotte fired back. “Is that the difficulty I ought to expect from your questions? For if it is, I ought to prepare my dollies for a walk in the garden.”

Lydia swallowed. She didn't want to admit it, but a spark of irritation had ignited in her belly. Charlotte was not just haughty; she was downright condescending. How had she turned out this way, she wondered. Nicholas, while confident, had never been this contemptuous. She knew Charlotte was a mere child and a product of her upbringing, but Lydia could hear her father's voice in her head.

Modesty is the biggest virtue. One must always be humble, no matter one's station.

Charlotte was neither modest nor humble and Lydia was determined to change that.

“Very well then, let me make it a little more difficult. Who was our first proclaimed queen who was not a queen consort?”

“Queen Ma...” Charlotte snapped her mouth shut and looked at Lydia; her hazel eyes squeezed shut. “Repeat the question.” A demand, not a request. Lydia carefully repeated her words when Charlotte pursed her lips.

“You want me to say Queen Mary, but it was Lady Jane Grey. She was proclaimed Queen but not anointed. And if you are trying to trick me, you might wish me to say Mary Queen of Scots, who was made queen at six days old,” she crossed her arms and looked at her triumphantly.

Lydia had to admit, she was impressed. This was often an overlooked part of history regarding her pupils. “Very good. But how were the two Queen Marys related?”

This utterly stumped Charlotte, and she blinked rapidly. “They were... they were not related.”

Lydia could not help but grin. “Oh, but they were. Do you mean to tell me you did not know?”

Charlotte clenched her jaw. “I... they were... aunt and niece,” she said firmly.

“Close, but no,” Lydia replied. Suddenly she saw the resemblance between father and daughter quite clearly as the vein she so prominently noted on Nicholas' forehead also popped on his daughter's.

“What does it matter how they were related?”

“It matters a great deal. They were cousins, giving Queen Mary of Scotland a claim to the English throne. It is what shaped much of our nation's history. Although it seems you did not know that.”

Charlotte pushed her chair back so hastily it banged on the floor. Then, she clenched her hands into fists.

“It matters little,” she hollered. “You tricked me. You.... you horrible commoner.” She turned and rushed for the door. Calmly, Lydia got up.

“Lady Charlotte, you strike me as a sour loser. Is this how you would have me react had you answered correctly? To trudge away in a rage?”

Charlotte turned and glared at her out of eyes so dark they made Lydia shudder.

“I am not trudging away. I am hungry.”

Lydia glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was hardly ten in the morning. She suppressed a smile, for it was evident that Charlotte did not like having her weaknesses pointed out.

“Is that so? Well, if you are indeed hungry, then I suppose we can end our lesson for now. However, if you are leaving because you have discovered that there is still room to learn, I will say I am sad. But, alas, not everyone can know everything; some must make do with the little they can absorb,” she shrugged and turned away from Charlotte to focus on the old globe in the corner instead.

She waited for a reaction. She'd half expected Charlotte to run away, but instead, she heard her muslin gown shift as she swayed.

“I can absorb more knowledge; I'll have you know. I can know everything.”

Lydia turned and looked straight into those familiar hazel eyes.

“Can you?” she challenged the girl, who stomped her right foot.