The Governess

The year was 1915, and the idyllic fields of the north Cotswolds were a million miles from the raging horrors that permeated the dank trenches of the Great War on the continent.

The manor house sat high atop a rolling hill amid the lush green countryside. From the upper story of the sprawling limestone mansion, members of the Parkes family could see for miles, spotting the farms and woods that dotted the hilly rural area that their family controlled.

Adam Parkes was in his study reading when he heard the crush of gravel outside, signaling the arrival of a coach at his residence. He closed the book and stepped from the room. The doorman was already escorting the visitor into the house when Adam arrived.

“Miss Penry,” Parkes said warmly. “Welcome to Gloucestershire, and our home.”

Parkes took a moment to examine the woman. She was matronly, to say the least. Perhaps in her fifties, she was a spinster. Unattractive, though not ugly, she seemed coldly professional, but also very responsible. She stood perhaps five and half feet tall, with a flat face, cool blue eyes and slightly graying hair that trickled from her bonnet.

Parkes had hired Miss Penry because the wet nurse who had cared for the children in their infancy had left to tend to her own ailing mother in Wales. In her absence, the children – eight-year-old Archibald, 12-year-old Elizabeth and the two-year-old toddler Raymond — were more than he could handle. His lovely wife Cornelia had died giving birth to Raymond, and Parkes was devastated. He loved his children, but had neither the skills nor the time to give them the care they needed. He was not interested in remarrying so soon after her death.

Parkes had discovered Miss Penry while visiting London on business. He was enjoying brandy and cigars with several gentlemen, and he outlined his concerns for his children’s’ upbringing. One gentleman indicated that he going to release his longtime governess now that his children had grown up. Parkes immediately arranged to hire her on the man’s recommendation, and finally two months later, Penry had concluded her affairs in London and made her way by train to the manor outside of Cheltenham.

“Mr. Parkes,” Penry said plainly, “I am pleased to be here. Thank you again for hiring me.”

“Not at all. Mr. Edgerington was most confident in his recommendation of your services. Come let me show you to your room. Then you can meet the children.”

The tall Parkes led the smaller woman though the house and up the staircase. Bill the doorman followed with luggage. The grand mansion echoed with footsteps. Parkes pointed out rooms and features for future reference; Miss Penry took it all in silently.

Her belongings stashed in her room, Penry followed Adam Parkes back down to the main hall. At the bottom of the stairs, Parkes reached for a bell that hung from the wall. He rang it in a distinct series of rings. Miss Penry heard shuffling above, and presently footsteps on the stairs. Slowly the children came into view as they reached the landing. Dressed immaculately, the toddling Raymond held hands on each side with his older siblings. The three made their way down and finally arrived in front of their father and this strange older woman.

Introductions were made, and the children stood there, polite but meek, unsure of this new caretaker. Archie and Lizzie missed their mother terribly, and even missed Sara the wet nurse who has so recently abandoned them. They longed for the stability that a new caretaker would bring, but they had secretly hoped for a fun young woman with a beautiful smile and a warm heart. Instead they found themselves looking up at a most severe-looking older woman. Her face was devoid of humor or kindness. Archie gulped audibly, and Lizzie frowned.

“Children, Miss Penry has come all the way from London to be here with us. She is an excellent governess and has been doing it for many years. I’m sure you will become very close with her over these next years. Now make sure you listen to everything she says and obey her without question. If you misbehave for her, you’d better believe I’ll hear about it. Now off you go to get cleaned up. Mrs. Boyle has lunch ready. I believe it’s stew!”

Relieved to escape the piercing gaze of their new governess, the children ran to the washroom. Their faces and hands washed, they arrived in the dining room for their first meal under the watchful eye of Miss Penry.

The first few days were awkward for the children, as they became acquainted with the imperious style of their governess. Always watchful, she ruled by intimidation. Never did she raise her voice or threaten the children with any consequences for their occasional misbehavior. But her watchful gaze was enough to terrify the children into ever-greater diligence in policing themselves. Their imaginations reeled with fantastical visions of torture they assumed Miss Penry would enact if she truly wished.

As the weeks and months unfolded, the stern governess and the children developed a livable rhythm. Her instructions were always clear and direct. The mere thought of some imagined consequence kept the children obedient. Eventually they came to even respect Miss Penry. While stern with matters of behavior, in moments of fear, sadness or pain the children found her very caring and almost affectionate. Upon skinning his knee while playing outside, Archie expected admonition for his carelessness. Instead, Miss Penry cleaned him up, kissed his scraped knee and then kissed his forehead. He was so astonished by her change of personality he nearly forgot his pain. She gave him a warm, almost sad smile. Archie smiled back and ran off to find his brother and sister.

Lizzie awoke one morning in stark terror. She screamed aloud, and Miss Penry burst through the door seconds later.

“What is it, Miss Elizabeth? What’s the matter?” Her voice was filled with concern.

“M-m-my..I’m bleeding to death, Ma’am,” Lizzie stammered. She lowered her head in shame.

The unflappable governess instantly understood. She pulled back the bedcovers from Lizzie’s legs, and spots the crimson stain on the sheets.

“From between your legs, my dear? Is that where?”

Lizzie nodded slowly, her eyes still avoiding the governess.

“Ah. You’re not bleeding to death, Elizabeth. It’s perfectly natural. You’re becoming a woman.”

Lizzie lifted her head at this, her tear-stained cheeks coming into view.

“A woman?”

“Your mother, God rest her soul, never got a chance to explain it all to you. You see, at your age a girl becomes a woman when her body is ready to have a baby. This blood is part of that. It’s your body getting ready. The Lord makes us ready long before we need to be. You’ll have this bleeding every month for most of the rest of your life. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it before. I’d hoped your wet nurse would have explained it. Now, let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll show you how to take care of this, keep it from ruining your nice clothes.”

At that, Miss Penry peeled back the rest of the covers, and Lizzie pulled her feet from the bed. They walked hand in hand over to the washbasin. The spinster took the kettle from the stove and poured some hot water into the basin. She returned the kettle, and then filled the remainder of the basin with cold water from the pitcher. She turned to Lizzie, and lifted her nightgown from her slender frame and over her head. Lizzie instinctively covered her budding breasts with her hands. Penry gave her a soft smile and pulled down Lizzie’s bloody underwear. They slid down her spindly legs. Lizzie stepped out of them, and Miss Penry quickly pushed them into a pocket.

“Stand with your legs apart a bit, dear.”

Lizzie trembled with a mix of fear and shame, but she did as she was told, widening her stance. Miss Penry took a clean towel and dipped it in the warm water. She gently wrung out the cloth. The governess then pressed the damp cloth against Lizzie’s small, hairless crotch. Lizzie looked away. Penry gently but expertly cleaned up the thin adolescent girl’s bloodstained groin, all the while calming Lizzie with soft words and tender eyes.

Finally finished, Penry put her hand on Lizzie’s chin, bringing the girls’ eyes into contact with her own. Smiling warmly, she regained Lizzie’s confidence.

“Now, let me show you what you need to do. You’ll have lots of practice.”

The governess covered Lizzie with a robe, and then showed her the time-tested methods of dealing with menses. Her gentle instruction and calm demeanor kept the girl comfortable, and soon the two joked about the burdens of womanhood.

From that day forward, Lizzie no longer harbored any fears or suspicions of her governess. The two had shared a bonding moment, and while Lizzie continued to earn the wrath of the governess while playing too roughly with her brothers, she no longer despised or distrusted her.

One evening after Miss Penry had put the children to bed, she walked down the hall towards her room, ready to put on her own bedclothes and do some reading. She left Lizzie’s room, passed Raymond’s room and as she neared Archie’s room, she heard a sound. She pressed her ear to his door. It sounded like Archie was having a nightmare. She could hear him thrashing and groaning. She quietly opened his door and peered inside. Miss Penry almost gasped aloud.