The Governess

By Rebecca Jones

In the ancient duchy of the Westhills where the citizenry have been ushered into a new age of prosperity and peace, there remains one final hurdle to the cementing of the legacy of Duke Elliot. This hurdle assumed the shape of the young noble, Richard- the one and only son of the great Duke and his Duchess Elena.

The characteristic arrogant and dismissive traits of the nobles from time seemed to have been thicker than any orientation which the young noble did receive at birth so that he grew into a brash and insensitive youth. The citizenry loathed him for his attitudes and smelling a certain failure of his reign, the great Duke planned ahead of his son's leadership.

The introduction of a governess into Richard's life had a twist of fate that even the Duke had not seen.
Would this unexpected twist be something to be thankful for? Would the duchy of the Westhills be better with the presence of the governess? Find out in this story of bittersweet love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca Jones
• Release date: Jul 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463667644

Rebecca Jones

Rebecca Jones has a lifelong love of history, especially English and American. Her romances range in setting from Medieval times to the Twentieth Century. She writes entertaining books for her readers to enjoy.She loves walks in the countryside and having afternoon tea with family and friends.When not writing, you can find her trying to keep up with her husband and three kids and exploring the different parts of the world.

Book preview

The Governess

Copyright © 2019 Rebecca Jones All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 1

The hooves of the horses touched the hard earthen ground with a final decisiveness when it was evening. It had been a long ride from the gaming forest for the young noble Richard and as was rite for him, he usually made a stop just by the mouth of the town, the boundary that separated the vast gaming forest from the open duchy, the macadam itself a new witness to the fact that the town was opening. One day, he would reign supreme over the duchy. He thought of this and he smiled.

There really was nothing to lose. He was prepared. He turned to the company which had followed him on the hunt today- a group of three of his finest guards and a maid that had served as the butler. The small gash on her face, the purple stain of cold congealed blood pocketed in the flesh of dead skin reminded him of the correction he had applied upon her for being such a clumsy servant. It was exactly how he intended to rule.

People could not afford to be lazy. Being lazy was a sign of weakness and the duchy of all places with all the advances it could make and all the riches the nobles could derive from it, certainly did not need lazy and clumsy people like her. He had struck her more than a dozen times and he still saw the fear in her eyes. He was sure the incident of her pouring the wine away would never repeat itself and it pleased him like a disciplinarian father that the people of the kingdom viewed him that way.

Father. He thought of the old Duke Elliot who was his father and hissed. The man had gone soft with time. The true test of his legacy had come in the day of his youth when he had held the duchy under his firm grip. Now, there was nothing. He could do other than sit back in his castle all day and read his books and drink wine and if the events of the day threatened his peace of mind, the old man would call for a gathering of fellow geronto-cratic nobles like himself and with the excuse of public decision making they lavished their time on wine and vain discuss. The people did not fear father. But they did him and that was all that mattered for the Duke's time was over anyway. To further establish the strength of his blood claim on the throne, staining it like the slime of a festival broth on the plates of the guests who had had their fill, the duchess of the duchy could have no other child after he was born.

The best physicians had been brought from far and wide the seven places of the world they knew and no one could tell how that had happened. Some had opened their lips and had offered word of a miracle that his birth was. The almost divine pronouncements concerning his birth drove the young noble Richard into more arrogance.

Mother said it often. His arrogance was not a good trait of a noble who would one day rule over the people of the Westhills.

They are good people, Richard mother would admonish him in the course of his tantrums against one of the maid or the guards who had made a silly mistake.

Richard could not pay mind to the fact of their goodness or otherwise, the most important fact of character, he thought was firmness. Mother and father were weak.

One of the horses snorted and brought his attention back to the realm before him and out of the clouds of his endless thoughts that bothered on his attainment of being Duke and how best he could live his life. He looked back to the guards and they watched ok him as though he had been acting an entire play before them that they