Compromising Miss Milton. Michelle Styles

of your fables, Prunella Blandish? This one does bear some semblance to last week’s tale about the lion eating buttercups.’

      ‘It is the truth…this time, Miss Milton. Honest, there is a naked man. You could see everything—all the way to kingdom come.’ Nella’s bottom lip stuck out and she shook her golden curls. ‘I watched him and watched him and he has not moved. He lies there, feet dangling in the water, head resting on a log.’

      ‘And what was this naked man of yours doing before he started lying there? Swimming?’ Daisy strove to keep her voice calm. She refused to enquire about what this everything-to-kingdom-come that Nella had seen was. If Nella’s tale was true, and if they did encounter this man on the way back to the house, she would explain in a quiet but firm voice about common decency and the necessity of wearing something when bathing.

      Nella’s reactions were only natural, the result of being a lively twelve year old. But what would Mrs Blandish say once Nella related the tale? And Nella’s sister? A tiny pain appeared behind Daisy’s eyes. She needed this position and its wage.

      No one ever set out to be a governess, least of all her. But Felicity had to look after their niece, and the annuity from her father was barely enough for one to manage on, let alone three. There was little to be done about falling sickness, but she completely agreed with Felicity that Kammie must be kept at home. It was Felicity, not she, who bore the hardest burden. Daisy’s sole contribution was to provide what funds she could.

      ‘How should I know, Miss Milton, what the man was doing before I saw him?’ Nella adopted her butter-wouldn’t-melt face. ‘You always tell me to refrain from speculating.’

      ‘It is a lovely afternoon in July.’ Daisy kept her voice light and tried to regain some of her authority. ‘I do hope you came away without saying anything. It would have been the height of bad manners, Prunella, to interrupt a man’s bathing.’

      ‘He wasn’t bathing. He was lying there in his altogether…’ Nella’s brow wrinkled and she clasped her hands under her chin, the very picture of injured innocence. ‘That is the very honest truth, Miss Milton.’

      Daisy frowned, tapping her fingers against the basket.

      How many times had she heard those words—‘the very honest truth’—over the past few months, only to discover that Nella had managed to exaggerate or somehow twist the story until it bore little resemblance to the actual sequence of events? This tale would stop here.

      ‘You solemnly promised your dearest mama no more tales or untruths.’

      ‘I know what I saw, Miss Milton…’ Nella pushed her bonnet more firmly on to her head. ‘I’ll prove it. Don’t you want to see the man? Judge for yourself?’

      To see the man? Daisy set her bonnet more firmly on her head and smoothed the pleats of her black stuff gown. Nella made it seem as if she was some sort of sex-starved spinster who had nothing better to do than spy on men bathing. She had a healthy appreciation of the masculine form, but the consequences had to be considered. Someone had to contain Nella’s enthusiasm.

      ‘It is not a question of want, Prunella, but of decorum.’

      ‘It would be the Christian thing to do.’ Nella’s being positively glowed as the idea took hold in her brain. ‘To see if he was in trouble and needed our aid. He could have gone over the waterfall, or have been attacked by brigands…or…’

      ‘I do know my Christian duty, thank you, Prunella. And I endeavour to do it. Always. As you should.’

      Daisy checked the little watch pinned to her gown. Nearly half past three. Did they have time to investigate? She could then deliver the ‘Importance of Always Telling the Truth’ lecture for the seventh time in as many days when Nella’s falsehood was revealed.

      ‘It is time we returned to the house. Your dear mama and sister will wish to know where you are. There may be arrivals to greet. Gilsland Spa is quite the rage this year as London remains in solemn mourning for our late lamented king.’

      ‘Susan isn’t interested in new arrivals. Susan’s sights are fixed on Lord Edward because he is the younger grandson of an earl and she wants a title.’ Nella paused and wrinkled her nose. ‘But Mama says that if anyone more eligible comes along, Susan had best be prepared to change her mind. Papa is worried about Lord Edward being to let in the pocket. Susan agreed eventually. A carriage is worth more than a handsome face.’

      ‘Nella!’ Daisy stared hard at her charge. ‘Your sister cannot be that mercenary.’

      ‘Susan told Mama the very same thing this morning.’ Nella swayed on her toes. A broad smile crossed her face as she lowered her voice. ‘I listen at doors.’

      ‘Then your sister is to get her London Season after all.’

      ‘Susan is quite convinced, though, that Lord Edward can be brought up to snuff and has begged Mama to keep the house for another month. It will save the expense of a London Season next year and the water will soothe dearest Mama’s nerves.’

      Nella’s voice replicated the exact intonation of Miss Blandish’s overly refined tone. With difficulty Daisy forced the laugh back down her throat.

      ‘You should not listen in on private conversations. It is neither clever nor useful.’ Daisy practised her best governess stare. ‘And you should certainly never repeat them to anyone.’

      ‘How can I learn anything interesting otherwise? Nobody tells me anything.’

      ‘It is far from ladylike. Your mama wants you to become a lady. You will want to make a good match, just as your sister does.’

      ‘Who wants to get married? Marriage is all practicality and good breeding. I want to be a lady explorer.’ Nella waved her hand with airy disdain. ‘I am going to discover lost continents and find buried treasure. And I have not been anywhere yet—even Susan has been to France.’

      ‘Even lady explorers are ladies first. And explorers pay attention to their geography lessons.’ Daisy winced slightly at her prim words, so reminiscent of her own governess’s—glittering dreams were well and good, but they often vanished in the cold light of reality. Once she had dreamed of exploring the world. Now she settled for independence.

      Nella tilted her head to one side as her eyes shone with mischief. ‘Do you think Susan would be interested in seeing my naked gentleman?’

      ‘Prunella! Control your mouth and your thoughts! A lady acts with propriety and honesty at all times. The man in question does not belong to you. And you have no idea of his antecedents and so cannot make a judgement about his status.’

      Nella screwed up her nose. ‘But do you think Susan would be interested in my discovery?’

      ‘I doubt it.’ Daisy struggled to keep her voice withering. She could well imagine Susan Blandish’s face squeezed up as though she had tasted a particularly sour plum if Nella mentioned the word naked. ‘Knowing things and informing other people of them are two different things. Discretion and tact should be your bywords, even when you are a lady explorer.’

      ‘I am glad I have you, Miss Milton.’ Nella reached out a grubby hand and squeezed Daisy’s pristine glove. ‘You never worry about such things as fashion and how to catch a viscount. You understand about exploring and never wanting to get married.’ Nella batted her lashes. ‘I wouldn’t have interrupted you for any other reason. I know how much you enjoy your letters from your sister. It is just that I feel one must try to help and do one’s Christian duty. Mama gave me a lecture on the very subject yesterday after I objected to meeting Mrs Gough, the vicar’s wife, who smells distinctly of lemon barley water.’

      Daisy permitted a tiny smile to cross her face as she recognised Nella’s tone. Perhaps after all she would reach some sort of rapprochement with her pupil. The whole episode would provide fodder for several letters to her friend Louisa Sibson. ‘Where is this sight that you wish me to see?’

      * * *

      Daisy