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no-nonsense dress that a governess would be expected to wear. She pulled at the bodice because it was a little tight across her breasts. Although of similar heights, she and Hester were of a different build, Sarah being rather more curvy.
    However, the dress fitted well enough and perhaps she would have time to let out the seams a little. Had she been impersonating a maid there would have been a uniform but governesseswere expected to provide their own gowns.
    Sarah wondered how much Hester had been promised as her wage. It was one of the many things she hadn’t had time to discuss and now regretted. Money was not a problem for the moment, because she still had several guineas in her purse and would need very little while she stayed here. She might miss her clothes and favourite pieces of jewellery, but had decided to have her trunks stored until further notice. Had the housekeeper decided to investigate her closet, it would not have done to have a dozen silk dresses hanging there. Mrs Brancaster would have immediately thought the worst, because there was only one way a governess could come by such gowns.
    Hester Goodrum had given her the reference from Lady Mary, also the schedule she’d intended to set for Francesca and John. A swift perusal had left Sarah feeling that it was sadly lacking in imagination and she made a few notes in the margins of lessons she thought a young woman might enjoy.
    Making her way downstairs to the kitchens, she heard voices and, since her name was mentioned, hesitated outside the door.
    ‘What do you think of her, then?’ a woman’svoice asked. ‘Will she last longer than a month, do you think?’
    ‘Well, Cook, all I can tell you is that she seems very sure of herself—and that’s what I told his lordship. She’s not like any of the others so she might just succeed where they failed.’
    ‘I hope as you’re right, Mrs Brancaster. Those young devils were in here earlier and they took all the cake I’d baked yesterday and I had to start all over again.’
    ‘Well, let’s hope she can keep them in order—’ Mrs Brancaster broke off as Sarah opened the door and walked in. ‘Ah, there you are, Miss Goodrum. We were just talking about you, wondering whether you would settle here.’
    ‘It is a lovely house and the grounds are magnificent,’ Sarah said. ‘Have Miss Francesca and Master John returned yet?’
    ‘I believe they went upstairs just a few moments ago. His lordship said we’re to serve tea at the normal time—and he asked that you should join them in the drawing room. Says he’s going to introduce you to your pupils.’
    ‘Oh …’ Sarah’s heart hammered in her breast. ‘I thought I was to have tea with you, but if I’ve been summoned … Where is the drawing room, please?’
    ‘You recall the parlour? Well, the drawing room is at the far end of the corridor and looksout over the park. Shall I send one of the maids with you?’
    ‘No, I dare say I can find my own way.’
    ‘Well, Miss Goodrum, I’m pleased you’ve come,’ Cook said, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘In my opinion it’s time those youngsters were taught some discipline.’
    ‘I shall do my best to make them behave, but I can’t guarantee it.’ Sarah smiled. ‘I think Lord Myers will soon have Master John under his control. I hope I may have some success with preparing Miss Francesca for her future role.’
    ‘She’s been allowed to run wild and that’s the truth of it,’ Cook said. ‘Their grandfather has spoiled them too much in my opinion.’
    ‘Well, perhaps they just need someone to take an interest in their needs. If you will excuse me, I shall find my way to the drawing room before they ring for tea.’
    Sarah left the kitchen and walked up the back stairs, letting herself out into one of the back halls. For a moment she looked about her, trying to get her bearings. Had they turned left or right for the parlour? It was a large house and if she took a wrong turning she might