The Rake's Rainbow Read Free

than most young men in spite of the time she had spent mastering ladies’ accomplishments and overseeing her siblings. She had established regular school hours for them, opening the lessons to several village children after the first year. Some of her former pupils had since been apprenticed as clerks.
    But times were bad and getting worse. The wars dragged endlessly on and tithes were down after consecutive years of poor harvests. Costs rose ever higher until the vicar could no longer support his offspring, though five had already moved out. Despite lacking dowries, Caroline’s two older sisters had found husbands the previous summer, for they were comely lasses, well-trained in household management. Constance married a nearby solicitor, and Prudence attracted the eye of a still-young, widowed baronet with two small daughters but no heir. After intensive coaching, Peter won an Oxford scholarship to take orders. Paul joined the navy, which did not demand he purchase his commission as did the army. Elizabeth obtained a position as companion to the Dowager Viscountess Barton, a blessing as the lady lived only four miles from Sheldridge Corners so Liza could visit the family on her days out.
    That left only Caroline of an age to move elsewhere. At seventeen, Anne was able to take over her teaching chores. So she accepted a governess post in distant Cornwall, where she would educate three young girls (brats, that unquenchable internal voice reminded – spoiled, brainless hoydens) and their sensitive brother, whose delicate constitution prohibited the rigors of public school. Though not an ideal position, she was nonetheless lucky to find it.
    Her father had been strangely hesitant over agreeing, despite his efforts to arrange the post. “It is so far away,” he mourned, pacing the study in agitation. “And we know nothing of the family.”
    “I must accept,” she stated calmly. “And with luck I can send you fifteen pounds a year.”
    “But that is more than half of your salary,” he protested.
    “It matters not. And Anne is more than capable of taking over my chores so Mama will not be overburdened.”
    “Perhaps you should wait one more year,” he offered. “I had hoped you would one day marry.”
    She thrust her own unrealistic dreams firmly aside. “Papa, we have discussed this before, as you well know. We lack both social standing and money. Pru and Connie managed to attract beaux due to their beauty, but I can never expect to repeat their successes.”
    “Fustian!” exploded the vicar. “You are a fine-looking girl.”
    “Be reasonable, Father.”  She shrugged. “I am no antidote, ‘tis true. But I can never claim the sort of beauty that compensates for a missing dowry. Nor can I remain content watching you and Mama struggle when I could contribute to the family well-being.”
    He had accepted the inevitable without further argument, though she knew he suffered over his inability to properly provide for his children. She and Mama had united in opposition when he wanted to ask his brother for help. Uncle Arthur was barely scraping sustenance out of his estate and was in no position to support others.
    Stifling the vision of a life of leisure she could never obtain, she continued to enumerate the benefits of this post.
    Cornwall was lovely – she again ignored the voice bemoaning that the house was quite isolated. A little common sense and discipline would turn her charges into models of decorum. And where else could she impart her knowledge to a young man?  She refused to entertain fears that she would have no support from that doting mother on questions of discipline, and would receive only the barest of necessities in the way of room and board. That horrid voice whispered that none but the worst nipfarthing would expect her to teach both son and daughters. Nor would she dwell on the loneliness she would undoubtedly suffer after a lifetime spent in a roisterous, loving enclave like the vicarage. And