I went through some of the clothes, and Roger was right. His late wife was quite a bit smaller than I was. I found a few dresses that needed some alteration to fit me. The fashions had not moved on too much in the few years since these were last worn, so I struggled into a yellow striped dress, with a lacy bodice.
I spent some time on my hair, and then found a small make-up box amongst the chests. I reddened my lips slightly, using a little dark pencil to my eye lines. There was a tub of something blue, so I dabbed a little on each eyelid and looked at the result. I had absolutely no idea about how women were supposed to look, even had I been a twentieth century female, I should have been equally new to this game. My brain told me that painted females were most likely prostitutes, so only modicum of makeup was permitted. Indeed, my knowledge of these times was limited, but I was aware that the fashionable males would often be more powdered and pampered than their female counterparts.
It was a wonderful adventure, so I found it difficult not to smile inanely all the time. My heart soared with the thrill of expressing myself as I had so longed to for all those years. The agency was right. I would accept conditions about which my twentieth century female contemporaries would have complained bitterly.
I smiled at my reflection, catching a twinkle in my eyes. Not at all bad, I smiled some more and blew myself a kiss.
I spent some time checking through the clothes, selecting a dozen dresses that would alter without much problem. One of my pre-programmed skills was needlework and dressmaking, and I was staggered at how easy it was. I quickly unpicked the seams, noting that sensible dressmakers had used sufficient material to allow for alterations. Such was the quality of the garments, that they were probably expected to last a good few years, so allowances were made for their owners to add or lose weight during that period.
It took me most of the morning to alter the clothes, but in the end I had sufficient of a wardrobe to keep me going for a while. I heard some commotion downstairs. Guessing that Maud and my charge had returned, I left my room and went down the stairs to meet them.
They were in the drawing room, a room I had yet to enter, but I simply followed the noise.
Katie was in a very pretty white dress with roses thereon. Her dark hair was quite long, falling in ringlets across her shoulders. She was a startling pretty girl. Maud, however, was about thirty, and was dressed in a dark red dress, looking rather austere. She too had dark hair, curled into ringlets that looked faintly silly on a woman of her age and general demeanour. She had a permanent expression of disapproval, focussed on her mouth that turned down, making her look miserable.
“Ah, Jane. Maud, this is Jane Chauncey. Katie, say hello to your new governess. Jane, this is my sister Maud and my daughter Katie.”
I greeted Maud, and then looked at Katie, who was glaring suspiciously at me out of her big brown eyes. She took in my yellow dress.
“That’s my Mama’s dress,” she announced, and Roger laughed.
“Yes Katie, it is. I have given Jane some of your Mama’s old clothes, as she finds herself without clothes until her luggage can be sent for,” Roger said.
Katie did not take this news well, glaring at me, almost daring me to attempt to exert authority. I took the dare.
“Katie. You need to wash your hands before lunch, so I think it would be nice for us to have a little talk before lunch anyway. So, please come with me,” I said, opening the door for her.
“I don’t have to,” she said.
“Katie,” I said, very quietly, as I would speak to a Marine who needed words of advice, “You are sadly mistaken. You do have to, and believe me, I am the last person you ever want to make angry.” I met her stare, holding it unwaveringly.
My tone of voice contained such menace that she paled visibly, and her mouth opened. She looked at her father, who simply smiled and said, “Katie, you will do exactly what Jane says.”
I thought she would resist some more, but she lifted her chin and flounced out of the room. I smiled at Roger, nodded to his sister and followed the little spitfire out of the room, closing the door behind me.
Katie was standing in the hall, glaring at me, with her arms folded.
“Upstairs, if you please,” I said.
“Shan’t! You cannot make me.”
I smiled, lifting her off her feet and slinging her across my shoulder in a fireman’s lift. She screamed and kicked, but I had a very strong grip. I took her to the bathroom and plonked her onto the floor. She stood looking rather fearfully at me.
“Now Katie. It is time you understand some truths. I am your worst nightmare. I am stronger than you are, wiser than you are, and can scream far louder than you can. Your Papa pays me to teach you the things that he wants you to learn, and he chose me because I am very good at what I do. I will not bend to your temper or tantrums. If you become horrid, I will be twice as horrid to you. On the other hand, if you are nice, then I will be twice as nice. You never know, we may even begin to like each other.
“So, you can forget being a selfish little strumpet, it is time to learn those things that will make your life even better. You will be able to learn how to make people give you what you want, by just being a very nice person, and never by stamping your foot and screaming.”
She frowned.
“How?”
“By learning the special secret of life.”
“What is that?”
“I can’t tell you, as that’s cheating. You have to find it out for yourself. If you do as I say, you will find it out very quickly, but if you try to make my life difficult, you may die a miserable old woman and never know it.”
She glared at me, but I could see conflicting emotions struggle in her mind.
“Go and wash, now, if you please,” I said, pointing to the basin.
She opened her mouth to say something, but then thought better of it. She turned and washed her hands. I watched as she dried them, so I washed my own hands.
“Miss Jane?” she said.
“Yes Katie.”
“Are you very strong?”
“Very.”
“Are you stronger than my daddy?”
“Probably. But I would never let him know that.”
“My Mama never could carry me like that.”
“Well, I can, and if you ever make me angry, you will discover what else I am capable of.”
“Were you angry with me?”
“No, merely displeased.”
“Why?”
“Because you were an obstinate and rude little girl, and that displeases me.”
“My other governesses were not like you.”
“Oh?”
“They were ninnies.”
“Believe me child, I am not a ninny.”
“I know that. Can you ride?”
“Of course.”
“I want to learn to ride astride, but the groom says that ladies must learn side saddle.”
“Side saddle is for ninnies. I will teach you to ride astride, and to fence, fish and lots of other things that your Papa must never know about.”
“You can fence?”
“Of course. I can do lots of things that would cause your aunt Maud to have the vapours.”
“Will you teach me?”
“If you are good.”
“How good?”
“Very, very good. I want you to be a picture of politeness and delight. But when we are alone, you can be yourself,” I said.
Katie grinned.
“I think you will be fun,” she said.
“Be very careful, Katie. Remember, you do not want to make me angry,” I said, looking hard at her. She looked down, with a cheeky dimple in her cheeks.
“I will do everything that you tell me to. Is that all right?”
“If you manage to do that, then I will teach you to ride. If you manage a week, then I will show you how to fence, and a month, I will show you how to shoot.”