The Silent Governess by Julie Klassen

Author:Julie Klassen
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: FIC042030, Governesses--England--Fiction
ISBN: 9781441207500
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2009-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

The lower lake is now all alive with skaters,

and by ladies driven onward by them in their ice-cars.

Mercury, surely, was the first maker of skates. . . .

—S.T. COLERIDGE, THE FRIEND, 1809

One afternoon in February, Edward stepped into the schoolroom only to find Miss Keene and the children about to step out, bundled in coats, caps, mufflers, and gloves.

“Where are you all bound for?”

“We are going ice-skating,” Audrey said. “Do come along!”

“Ice-skating? I have not strapped on skates in years.”

Andrew tugged his hand. “Come along, Cousin Edward, do.”

“I haven’t the foggiest notion where my old skates might be.”

Miss Keene pulled the largest blades from the trunk with a flourish and held them before him.

“How . . . fortunate,” he grumbled.

A few minutes later, cocooned in his beaver hat, coat, and gloves, much like the children, Edward led the way as the small troupe tromped through the snow into the village, then along a well-trod path to the mill. He explained that the miller diverted water from the mill leat every year to fill a skating pond behind the mill.

“Very obliging of him,” Miss Keene said.

Edward considered this. “I suppose it is. I have never thought of it before.”

Using an old millstone as a makeshift bench, Miss Keene helped Audrey strap skates to her half boots while Edward assisted Andrew with the same.

“Wait for me, Andrew, and I shall come out and help you,” Miss Keene called, tightening Audrey’s final strap.

Edward eyed the blades still lying on the millstone. “Are you not skating, Miss Keene?”

“Oh no, my lord. I don’t think it would be proper. I only brought that pair in case one of you tore a strap.” She glanced around at the few skaters on the pond. “Besides, I shall be more surefooted in my boots, and more able to lend a steadying hand.”

“Not fair of you at all,” he said in mock sternness. “Insist I come, then sit out yourself? Come, now. What may not be proper in London or in your prim girls’ school is perfectly proper here.”

“I . . . Oh, very well. I shall give it a go.”

“That is more like it.”

She strapped on her skates before he finished his own, and hurried onto the ice to assist Audrey, who was flailing her thin arms and appeared about to fall. Andrew was busy chop-chopping the ice as he marched along, not falling, but not really skating either.

“Glide, Andrew, glide!” she called.

Edward skated to Andrew’s side and held his mittened hand. Miss Keene took Audrey’s arm and attempted to steady her while quietly instructing her on proper technique. Suddenly the girl’s arms flailed again—her feet flew out before her and she fell back, taking Miss Keene down with her. They both slammed hard against the ice. Edward gave an empathetic wince and skated quickly over, leaving Andrew to his own devices. He crouched over their prone forms. “Are you all right?”

“Mortified and sore, nothing more,” Miss Keene quipped, sitting up.

“I am sorry, miss,” Audrey said, scrambling to her feet and wearing a pained expression.

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