an unexpected governess 3 (lotrips au, dom/elijah)
Title: An Unexpected Governess
Fandom: Lotrips AU
Pairing: Dominic/Elijah
Ratings/Warnings: Crossdressing. Also, a warning that there's still no Dom yet. Lots of other people to introduce first, it turns out!
Notes: Concocted by oneangrykate, here. Technically, Lord Bernard should instead be addressed as Lord Monaghan, but I found that confusing, so I'm disregarding accuracy for the sake of readability. The conversation between Bernard and Elijah is done in a style that I felt honor-bound to include in this story, since it was a frequent convention in Victorian narratives; but for the record, I hate this style of dialogue! Crazy Victorians!
*
The journey to Westmarch was not brief, and on the way, the footman enlightened me of more even than I might have enquired about the Monaghans.
Like many a large country estate, Westmarch seemed to constitute its own small nation. At the summit of this little world stood Lord Bernard Monaghan, now chiefly retired after a distinguished career in service to the Crown.
Lord Bernard had sired two children with his first wife, and all was well and happy til he was bereaved of her company by a wasting illness. He was left with the comfort of two descendents, male and female, Sean and Miranda.
Miranda being the very image of her mother, Lord Bernard could not bear to be parted from her; therefore as a condition of her marriage, he asked that she should remain within his purview. Fortunately her husband, one David Wenham of the ---ton Wenhams, showed his respect to Lord Bernard by accommodating this fond requirement.
Indeed, both of Lord Bernard's progeny by his first bride were extremely well matched. Sean had found a bride in Catherine Blanchett, of a very well-established family in ---ingham, not so distant relatives of the Monaghans; for, being of such a rarefied pedigree, the Monaghans had little choice in many cases throughout their history but to seek out mates among their connexions and cousins.
In company, they were most imposing, these five, forming a solid wall of forceful profiles and golden hair. Yet their very suitability, their homogeneity, seemed to suggest that perhaps the branches of the family tree had not spread quite so widely as they ought.
Lord Bernard himself had meantime taken another bride. The second Lady Monaghan wanted children of her own, and this wish was indulged; she bore him a third child, a son, Dominic.
"It would have been much better if the last one was a girl," opined the footman. "Another heir coming along at the tail end of the line like that, what do they expect but that he'd go acting up?"
"Is he troublesome, then?"
"I don't know as you'd say troublesome exactly, but he's certainly not quiet. The rest of the Monaghans, they keep themselves to themselves, as you'd say. Not Mr. Dominic. He's in London now, matter of fact. They say he spent a season or two in society, but nobody knows what he does there now. Not business, most likely. When he's out here to Westmarch, he's not much of one for business; but he likes farming, always talking to the tenants about their lots and seeds and things!"
Though the footman talked and talked, he could tell me little else of interest about the family, and indeed, though he was an inexhausible fount of information about their holdings, their lineage, their marriages and children, even down to supplying dates; nevertheless, he seemed to be ill supplied with the usual sort of gossip that hovers about a prominent family like so many crows and buzzards, waiting to swoop and peck. He could give me no clues as to the character of the individuals I was due to serve.
And so when the carriage arrived, I disembarked and made my way to the house, girded with a great deal of information but with no insight to prepare me for what I might find.
*
Westmarch was a very fine manor house, massive, solid, somehow rough and noble in its edifice. The interior was appointed in stately old style with heirlooms and keepsakes; a fifty-year-old chair here, a four-hundred-year-old door there, each item with an aura of history, each created by expert craftsman, made well and made to last for generations. A smattering of fashionable Japonisme items lodged uneasily among the classic ornaments; in this, I thought I detected the hand of the second Lady Monaghan.
I was received with cool but exceedingly correct hospitality by the staff. They were punctilious, very strict in manner, and I had little choice but to respond in kind; indeed, such coolness I hoped would benefit me in my ruse, which would only be improved by distance and a dearth of close familiarity.
Still, my reception was so brittle that I almost feared that no one would bother to prepare me for my duties or apprise me of my charges, for they seemed in no hurry to broach the topic. At last, timidly-- trying with all my forbearance to be properly ladylike and deferring-- I begged to be informed, and the housekeeper finally condescended to explain.
Sean and Catherine had a son and a daughter: Thomas and Emma were their names, twelve and ten respectively. David and Miranda had a son of their own, Daniel, also ten. The boys had both been at school, but they had recently been ill, and it was decided to keep them home for a year before sending them off again.
It was understood that being a mere female governess, I would not be able to properly further their educations; but it was hoped that I would instill good habits and gentlemanly manners in them until they could properly resume their studies.
I was showed my bare little lodging-room, the library, and the schoolroom, and given a bit of tea to refresh me after the long journey. I was then informed that before I could retire, I would be seen by the master of the house.
Most irregular, and yet the steward assured me that Lady Monaghan harbored little enthusiasm for the quotidian workings of the household, whereas His Lordship found the subject keenly interesting, having been deeply involved in the minutest workings of the estate for most of his life, as often as his other duties permitted it.
And so I was received by Lord Bernard himself: a handsome man near sixty, still retaining all the power and bearing of his strongest years; a leonine lord, with a proud mien and a glorious mane. I was much impressed.
Though his person was imposing, he was very cordial to me, indeed, a perfect model of a noble gentleman, very refined, observing all the niceties of greeting with impeccable grace. "He hoped I was not too tired out by the journey; he trusted that I would be comfortable in my room."
These were presented as statements, not as questions, and I replied accordingly with as much gentility and gratitude as I knew how to muster.
He recieved my answer with a nod, and chose his next words with care. "It was understood that my employment might best be viewed as a matter of some circumspection. As a young lady of gentle birth sadly obliged to seek employment, might I prefer to go under another name entirely?"
"His discretion and consideration were very noble, and gratefully received; but Wood being a not uncommon surname, such a precaution would not be necessary. My thanks were very much tendered for the solicitude of the thought."
"I was very well-spoken for one so young; he believed I was sixteen?"
"He was correct, and too kind in his charitable observation."
"There was no charity in him; my manner was a credit to my family. I could depend upon the Monaghans to speak nothing that might cast aspersions upon the Wood name or fortunes; on the contrary, they would have nothing but the warmest words for our house, and the subject of my employment would never be disclosed by any Monaghan, or any employee. Discretion was very highly prized at Westmarch."
I began to see what his words portended, and why he chose to admit new servants to the household himself. Something in the way of an oath of fealty would be required in order to serve in this house. "I would endeavor to redeliver the favour, and nothing of my employment, nor any word of slightest disparagement toward Westmarch or its denizens, would ever pass my lips."
This seemed to satisfy him, and the interview ended soon after.
*
And so my life as a governess at Westmarch began.
I soon found that the personal requirements of disguising myself as a girl were the least of my concerns. While the corsets, caps, bonnets and petticoats never grew more comfortable, nevertheless, I became inured to them; not so, with some of the more exterior aspects of my masquerade.
As the eldest living son of a well-regarded family, I had been accustomed to being heard out. My ideas had always been welcomed, my discourse honoured (or perhaps humoured, at the least).
Now, as a dependent of the house, a female, and a servant, I had the ear of no one, the attention of no one, the interest of no one.
Even my young charges looked upon me with boredom and disdain. It was a puzzlement to me, and a sore disappointment.
Hannah and I were both good with young ones; not for nothing had we so looked forward to Rebecca's child, for we had ever been fond of children, and that fondness had always been rewarded in kind.
As myself, I had always been able to forge a bond with younger kith and kin. But whether it was due to my changed station in life, the falseness I was forced by circumstance to portray, or the qualities of these particular children themselves, I simply could not find the heart in any of the three of them.
They fidgeted and woolgathered and failed to heed me. My attempts at discipline were met with impertinence:
"What do you care how we behave?" said fair-haired Thomas. "You're only here to cause trouble."
"I'm here to teach you," said I. "It would be no trouble at all if you would simply mind me and apply yourselves."
"In novels, the governess always tries to marry the son of the house," said Emma.
"But Mr. Thomas is the son of the house," I replied, "and he's only twelve. Even if I were to idle here to make such an attempt when he reaches the age of majority, he's three times removed from the title."
"I suppose you would have to kill our grandfather, then," said the little ghoul matter-of-factly, "and all our fathers and uncles as well."
"She'll poison them, I suppose," said Daniel, who never said a word to me directly, only speaking of me to the other two.
"I have no intention of poisoning anyone," I said, privately thinking to myself that if I did have such designs, I would be most inclined to slip a few drops of laudanum into the children's tea and put an end to all this ludicrous misbehavior. "Now open your French text, no more dawdling!"
*
I led a very solitary existence at Westmarch for several weeks. My time was divided in bleak intervals between the schoolroom, the library, and my own small room.
It earned no notice that I did not socialize among the staff, for a governess always inhabits a strange sort of position in any household: too refined to become acquainted with the working folk who make up most of the rest of the staff, but too reduced in station to be accepted by the family as anything like an equal.
I wrote my sister very clandestine and careful letters almost daily, and devoured her equally discreet replies like a starving man would eat a bountiful meal, for her words were my only company.
Even if I had not been so peculiarly placed between the staff and the family, I still had no hope of friendship, for I was always wary lest anyone examine me too closely, and discern the secret that I had so far kept hidden.
Still, being only human after all, I could not help but harbor some longings to interact with a fellow-creature. But soon I repented that I ever wished for any consideration, for it become clear that there was one person whose attentions I attracted: and once these attentions were bestowed upon me, I did not enjoy them in the least.
Lord Sean, that golden first son, proved a dissolute and ungentlemanly fellow whenever he encountered-- or truth be told, accosted-- me in the corridors or the library. A lady would never speak of it, but I was and remain no lady; and so I reveal without compunction that on nearly every such occasion, and indeed on almost every occasion that I ever witnessed him, Lord Sean was in his cups.
"Miss Wood," he began one such encounter, cornering me in a passage. "There you are. I have been meaning to ask you! How old are you?"
"Sixteen, sir," I answered, and tried to dodge beneath his arm, which was braced against the wall to bar my way.
He caught me easily. "Only sixteen, eh?" His eyes traveled from my cap to my slippers and back again. "Very young. Yet you presume to teach. Perhaps, mistress governess, you ought to have a few lessons yourself."
"I am always learning, sir, in order to become a better teacher; here, see, I have an essay written by your son on the Magna Carta, and I shall find books in the library so that I can judge his work, and discuss it with him, and extend his knowledge."
Undeterred even by my mention of his child, Lord Sean leaned closer. "There are far more interesting things you could be extending, my dear, little, sixteen-year-old, Miss--"
What the rest of this proposition might have been, I cannot record, for at that juncture I succeeded in squirming out from under his listing body and escaped to the schoolroom, where he dared not follow.
***
Fandom: Lotrips AU
Pairing: Dominic/Elijah
Ratings/Warnings: Crossdressing. Also, a warning that there's still no Dom yet. Lots of other people to introduce first, it turns out!
Notes: Concocted by oneangrykate, here. Technically, Lord Bernard should instead be addressed as Lord Monaghan, but I found that confusing, so I'm disregarding accuracy for the sake of readability. The conversation between Bernard and Elijah is done in a style that I felt honor-bound to include in this story, since it was a frequent convention in Victorian narratives; but for the record, I hate this style of dialogue! Crazy Victorians!
*
The journey to Westmarch was not brief, and on the way, the footman enlightened me of more even than I might have enquired about the Monaghans.
Like many a large country estate, Westmarch seemed to constitute its own small nation. At the summit of this little world stood Lord Bernard Monaghan, now chiefly retired after a distinguished career in service to the Crown.
Lord Bernard had sired two children with his first wife, and all was well and happy til he was bereaved of her company by a wasting illness. He was left with the comfort of two descendents, male and female, Sean and Miranda.
Miranda being the very image of her mother, Lord Bernard could not bear to be parted from her; therefore as a condition of her marriage, he asked that she should remain within his purview. Fortunately her husband, one David Wenham of the ---ton Wenhams, showed his respect to Lord Bernard by accommodating this fond requirement.
Indeed, both of Lord Bernard's progeny by his first bride were extremely well matched. Sean had found a bride in Catherine Blanchett, of a very well-established family in ---ingham, not so distant relatives of the Monaghans; for, being of such a rarefied pedigree, the Monaghans had little choice in many cases throughout their history but to seek out mates among their connexions and cousins.
In company, they were most imposing, these five, forming a solid wall of forceful profiles and golden hair. Yet their very suitability, their homogeneity, seemed to suggest that perhaps the branches of the family tree had not spread quite so widely as they ought.
Lord Bernard himself had meantime taken another bride. The second Lady Monaghan wanted children of her own, and this wish was indulged; she bore him a third child, a son, Dominic.
"It would have been much better if the last one was a girl," opined the footman. "Another heir coming along at the tail end of the line like that, what do they expect but that he'd go acting up?"
"Is he troublesome, then?"
"I don't know as you'd say troublesome exactly, but he's certainly not quiet. The rest of the Monaghans, they keep themselves to themselves, as you'd say. Not Mr. Dominic. He's in London now, matter of fact. They say he spent a season or two in society, but nobody knows what he does there now. Not business, most likely. When he's out here to Westmarch, he's not much of one for business; but he likes farming, always talking to the tenants about their lots and seeds and things!"
Though the footman talked and talked, he could tell me little else of interest about the family, and indeed, though he was an inexhausible fount of information about their holdings, their lineage, their marriages and children, even down to supplying dates; nevertheless, he seemed to be ill supplied with the usual sort of gossip that hovers about a prominent family like so many crows and buzzards, waiting to swoop and peck. He could give me no clues as to the character of the individuals I was due to serve.
And so when the carriage arrived, I disembarked and made my way to the house, girded with a great deal of information but with no insight to prepare me for what I might find.
*
Westmarch was a very fine manor house, massive, solid, somehow rough and noble in its edifice. The interior was appointed in stately old style with heirlooms and keepsakes; a fifty-year-old chair here, a four-hundred-year-old door there, each item with an aura of history, each created by expert craftsman, made well and made to last for generations. A smattering of fashionable Japonisme items lodged uneasily among the classic ornaments; in this, I thought I detected the hand of the second Lady Monaghan.
I was received with cool but exceedingly correct hospitality by the staff. They were punctilious, very strict in manner, and I had little choice but to respond in kind; indeed, such coolness I hoped would benefit me in my ruse, which would only be improved by distance and a dearth of close familiarity.
Still, my reception was so brittle that I almost feared that no one would bother to prepare me for my duties or apprise me of my charges, for they seemed in no hurry to broach the topic. At last, timidly-- trying with all my forbearance to be properly ladylike and deferring-- I begged to be informed, and the housekeeper finally condescended to explain.
Sean and Catherine had a son and a daughter: Thomas and Emma were their names, twelve and ten respectively. David and Miranda had a son of their own, Daniel, also ten. The boys had both been at school, but they had recently been ill, and it was decided to keep them home for a year before sending them off again.
It was understood that being a mere female governess, I would not be able to properly further their educations; but it was hoped that I would instill good habits and gentlemanly manners in them until they could properly resume their studies.
I was showed my bare little lodging-room, the library, and the schoolroom, and given a bit of tea to refresh me after the long journey. I was then informed that before I could retire, I would be seen by the master of the house.
Most irregular, and yet the steward assured me that Lady Monaghan harbored little enthusiasm for the quotidian workings of the household, whereas His Lordship found the subject keenly interesting, having been deeply involved in the minutest workings of the estate for most of his life, as often as his other duties permitted it.
And so I was received by Lord Bernard himself: a handsome man near sixty, still retaining all the power and bearing of his strongest years; a leonine lord, with a proud mien and a glorious mane. I was much impressed.
Though his person was imposing, he was very cordial to me, indeed, a perfect model of a noble gentleman, very refined, observing all the niceties of greeting with impeccable grace. "He hoped I was not too tired out by the journey; he trusted that I would be comfortable in my room."
These were presented as statements, not as questions, and I replied accordingly with as much gentility and gratitude as I knew how to muster.
He recieved my answer with a nod, and chose his next words with care. "It was understood that my employment might best be viewed as a matter of some circumspection. As a young lady of gentle birth sadly obliged to seek employment, might I prefer to go under another name entirely?"
"His discretion and consideration were very noble, and gratefully received; but Wood being a not uncommon surname, such a precaution would not be necessary. My thanks were very much tendered for the solicitude of the thought."
"I was very well-spoken for one so young; he believed I was sixteen?"
"He was correct, and too kind in his charitable observation."
"There was no charity in him; my manner was a credit to my family. I could depend upon the Monaghans to speak nothing that might cast aspersions upon the Wood name or fortunes; on the contrary, they would have nothing but the warmest words for our house, and the subject of my employment would never be disclosed by any Monaghan, or any employee. Discretion was very highly prized at Westmarch."
I began to see what his words portended, and why he chose to admit new servants to the household himself. Something in the way of an oath of fealty would be required in order to serve in this house. "I would endeavor to redeliver the favour, and nothing of my employment, nor any word of slightest disparagement toward Westmarch or its denizens, would ever pass my lips."
This seemed to satisfy him, and the interview ended soon after.
*
And so my life as a governess at Westmarch began.
I soon found that the personal requirements of disguising myself as a girl were the least of my concerns. While the corsets, caps, bonnets and petticoats never grew more comfortable, nevertheless, I became inured to them; not so, with some of the more exterior aspects of my masquerade.
As the eldest living son of a well-regarded family, I had been accustomed to being heard out. My ideas had always been welcomed, my discourse honoured (or perhaps humoured, at the least).
Now, as a dependent of the house, a female, and a servant, I had the ear of no one, the attention of no one, the interest of no one.
Even my young charges looked upon me with boredom and disdain. It was a puzzlement to me, and a sore disappointment.
Hannah and I were both good with young ones; not for nothing had we so looked forward to Rebecca's child, for we had ever been fond of children, and that fondness had always been rewarded in kind.
As myself, I had always been able to forge a bond with younger kith and kin. But whether it was due to my changed station in life, the falseness I was forced by circumstance to portray, or the qualities of these particular children themselves, I simply could not find the heart in any of the three of them.
They fidgeted and woolgathered and failed to heed me. My attempts at discipline were met with impertinence:
"What do you care how we behave?" said fair-haired Thomas. "You're only here to cause trouble."
"I'm here to teach you," said I. "It would be no trouble at all if you would simply mind me and apply yourselves."
"In novels, the governess always tries to marry the son of the house," said Emma.
"But Mr. Thomas is the son of the house," I replied, "and he's only twelve. Even if I were to idle here to make such an attempt when he reaches the age of majority, he's three times removed from the title."
"I suppose you would have to kill our grandfather, then," said the little ghoul matter-of-factly, "and all our fathers and uncles as well."
"She'll poison them, I suppose," said Daniel, who never said a word to me directly, only speaking of me to the other two.
"I have no intention of poisoning anyone," I said, privately thinking to myself that if I did have such designs, I would be most inclined to slip a few drops of laudanum into the children's tea and put an end to all this ludicrous misbehavior. "Now open your French text, no more dawdling!"
*
I led a very solitary existence at Westmarch for several weeks. My time was divided in bleak intervals between the schoolroom, the library, and my own small room.
It earned no notice that I did not socialize among the staff, for a governess always inhabits a strange sort of position in any household: too refined to become acquainted with the working folk who make up most of the rest of the staff, but too reduced in station to be accepted by the family as anything like an equal.
I wrote my sister very clandestine and careful letters almost daily, and devoured her equally discreet replies like a starving man would eat a bountiful meal, for her words were my only company.
Even if I had not been so peculiarly placed between the staff and the family, I still had no hope of friendship, for I was always wary lest anyone examine me too closely, and discern the secret that I had so far kept hidden.
Still, being only human after all, I could not help but harbor some longings to interact with a fellow-creature. But soon I repented that I ever wished for any consideration, for it become clear that there was one person whose attentions I attracted: and once these attentions were bestowed upon me, I did not enjoy them in the least.
Lord Sean, that golden first son, proved a dissolute and ungentlemanly fellow whenever he encountered-- or truth be told, accosted-- me in the corridors or the library. A lady would never speak of it, but I was and remain no lady; and so I reveal without compunction that on nearly every such occasion, and indeed on almost every occasion that I ever witnessed him, Lord Sean was in his cups.
"Miss Wood," he began one such encounter, cornering me in a passage. "There you are. I have been meaning to ask you! How old are you?"
"Sixteen, sir," I answered, and tried to dodge beneath his arm, which was braced against the wall to bar my way.
He caught me easily. "Only sixteen, eh?" His eyes traveled from my cap to my slippers and back again. "Very young. Yet you presume to teach. Perhaps, mistress governess, you ought to have a few lessons yourself."
"I am always learning, sir, in order to become a better teacher; here, see, I have an essay written by your son on the Magna Carta, and I shall find books in the library so that I can judge his work, and discuss it with him, and extend his knowledge."
Undeterred even by my mention of his child, Lord Sean leaned closer. "There are far more interesting things you could be extending, my dear, little, sixteen-year-old, Miss--"
What the rest of this proposition might have been, I cannot record, for at that juncture I succeeded in squirming out from under his listing body and escaped to the schoolroom, where he dared not follow.
***