“Do you teach art? And music?” Maje said. She sounded hopeful.
Yvienne chose her words carefully. “I am no artist, but I have learned from all of my governesses and I think I can direct your study. And I have not had a fortepiano in many years, but I can set aside time for you to practice your music. But if – if your mother is willing to overlook my deficiency in that regard, perhaps a music teacher would be the best thing if you are very eager.”
“Oh, but we–” Maje stopped, glancing at her Mama. Mrs TreMondi had a rueful expression. “What she means, Miss Mederos, is that we have not been able to engage a music teacher in all of Port Saint Frey. I had rather hoped that you would be able to teach Maje, as she has a prodigious talent.”
“I see,” Yvienne said, who thought she did see. “And I wish, very much, that I were more proficient. But I can’t misrepresent my skill.”
“What else can you teach?” Mrs TreMondi asked.
“Vranz and Corish, and history. I have a special interest in navigation and cartography.” She added, “And if your mother and father agree, I can stay over on fine nights and teach astronomy.”
The children gasped with delight. “Papa has the most extraordinary telescope!” Idina cried. “I admit that I am a little frightened to use it, for it is quite dear and Papa is most protective of the lenses. But it must be wonderful to see the stars and planets quite close by.”
Yvienne remembered her own telescope with a pang. This job wouldn’t be so bad after all, if she could have a telescope, as well as an excuse to spend nights away from home.
Mrs TreMondi was laughing. “A young lady with an interest and a talent for astronomy! I can tell already you will be a great favorite. As for my husband, I am sure I can prevail upon him to let you tutor the children in astronomy.”
“Mama, that’s everything except for the music!” Maje cried.
“It is, it is. I think Miss Mederos is our one. Now, would a salary of ten guilders a month be sufficient? As you aren’t living in, I am told it would be fair.”
“Quite sufficient,” Yvienne assured her. In fact, it was paltry, but she would tell her parents it was twenty guilders a month and supplement with the proceeds from her other endeavor. “When would you like me to start?”
“Next month,” Dubre said with supreme self-assurance. “Because the month has already started, so you should come next month.”
“If he had his way, school would always be next month,” Mrs TreMondi said wryly. “But as it happens, Dubbi, Miss Mederos will be teaching your sisters, not you. You will go to Port Saint Frey Academy.”
The sisters looked at each other, and Dubre went from mischievous to mulishly stubborn. He didn’t say anything but he squirmed out of his mother’s embrace and turned his shoulder to her.
Maje said hopefully, “I don’t mind if Dubre has lessons with us.”
“But your father wants him to enter the academy, so that’s that.” Mrs TreMondi said it lightly, but there was tension in her voice. “Not to disappoint Dubbi, but could you start tomorrow? It has been so long since the children had a teacher.”
“I would be happy to,” Yvienne said. “And while Dubre is waiting to go to the academy, he can take lessons with us.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Mrs TreMondi said, and now there was frost in her voice. Don’t meddle, that tone said, and Yvienne reddened. But the Port Saint Frey Academy, though it was known for rigor and discipline, was the worst possible fate for little Dubre with his silvery brown curls and brown skin. The other boys would eat him alive.
Mrs TreMondi rose to her feet and held out her hand. Yvienne took it and curtseyed again. Mrs TreMondi rang a little bell. “Tomorrow, then. Half past seven?”
“Yes, madam,” Yvienne said, mindful of Mathilde’s deferential address. “Good-bye, children.”
“Good-bye,” the girls chorused. Dubre kept his shoulder turned toward his mother.
Mrs Rose appeared in the doorway. Yvienne followed her out, willing herself not to look back. “There. I knew you would get the position as soon as I saw you. I thought, she’s the one. It’s good that you’re young – the girls will like that.”
Hayres the butler held open the door for her, and gave her a stern look. “Tomorrow,” he began.
“The servants’ entrance,” she agreed.
Yvienne was aware of an odd mixture of exhilaration and oppressive anticipation when Hayres closed the door behind her, leaving her alone at the impressive entrance of the TreMondi home. She had done it – she had gotten engaged as a governess. Yet she was entirely aware of the nearness of her family home, situated further up the Crescent, toward the most exclusive homes at the top of the steep cobblestoned hill. As she joined the foot traffic at the end of the drive, she couldn’t help but look up the hill. It was a fine day; she could see the rooftop of her childhood home. It was but the work of a few moments to walk up and see it. The pull was a powerful one. She had stayed away ever since she and Tesara had returned from Madam Callier’s, not wanting to pour salt on the wound.
Yvienne struggled, as she stood on the sidewalk, pretending to be absorbed with tying her bonnet strings, until something broke inside her, and she made her decision.
Not yet, she told herself. The next time I enter the Mederos home, it will be as her rightful owner. With her bonnet firmly tied, she continued on her way.
On such a fine day the street was full of traffic. Men and women, coaches, litters – everywhere people walked out on their business or at their leisure. If anyone took notice of her, she doubted they would recognize her as she watched with her back
