To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1)

by Charles, Jane

  Rosemary and Eliza screamed. Sophia dropped the glass. It broke, splattering the contents on the floor among the chards of glass. She turned and ran after her two friends.

  * * *

  “Miss Crawford,” Vincent yelled from the door to the library. He brought his palm to his head, immediately sorry for his volume. It was almost as bad as the ear-splitting screams of three young ladies who just ran up his stairs.

  She hurried down the hall from the parlor. “What is it?” Her eyes and tone were anxious.

  “Did I not demand that the children remain quiet?”

  “You demanded they remain on this level of the house,” she reminded him.

  “Had I been asleep in my bed those screeches would have still awakened me,” he barked and marched back into the library.

  Tess followed. “If you would like, I will go see what has disturbed them.”

  Vincent shook his head and held up his hand. “No.” He grabbed the bell pull and yanked.

  Wesley materialized in a matter of seconds. “Yes, Lord Atwood?”

  “Why were those girls running through the house screaming?” It had been such a peaceful few days without the pain in his head. Now it was back in full force. All because of them.

  “I believe something must have scared them.”

  Vincent snorted and walked to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. “Obviously! What exactly frightened them this time?” He pinched the bridge of his nose then took a long drink.

  “I shall find out what I can and return,” Wesley offered and quit the room.

  “I can go ask,” Tess suggested.

  His eyes bore into hers over the rim of the glass. “You,” he bit out, “will stay right here until we are at the bottom of this.”

  She slinked away from him.

  He should not be coarse with her, but they were her students.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Tess offered in a weak voice while she remained on the opposite side of the room.

  Vincent glared at her. “Have you ever considered muzzling them?”

  Tess bit her bottom lip and did not answer. Her eyes shifted to the door. She probably hoped Wesley would appear so she could escape.

  Vincent downed the glass of brandy and poured another one. He knew it was the only thing that helped him through this pain.

  Her head tilted and she studied him.

  “What?” he barked out.

  “Where does it pain you?”

  “Here, here and here.” He pointed to his forehead, temples and the top of his head. “Why?”

  She moved forward. “Lie down.”

  His eyebrow shot up with intrigue. “Pardon?”

  “I said, lie down,” Tess ordered.

  If his head hadn’t pained him so much, Vincent would have found delight in being ordered about by Tess. Especially since she wanted him on his back. A place he wouldn’t mind having her, if he were pain free.

  He did as she suggested. “This doesn’t help,” he insisted.

  “Just be quiet,” she reprimanded and pulled a chair to the end of the couch. A moment later he felt her finger tips massaging his temples. Her hands soothed his brow. Occasionally she would stop in her ministrations to press a finger to a particularly sore spot on his scalp until the tenderness disappeared. Every muscle in his body began to relax and the pain dimmed. Vincent let a sigh escape.

  Her hands moved away, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Not yet.”

  Her chuckle was low. “Just one moment and I will be right back.”

  He didn’t open his eyes but could hear her move about the room and blow out the candles until no light shone on his closed eyelids. She returned to her seat and placed her hands back on his head. Another sigh escaped.

  * * *

  “Lord Atwood, I believe I have discovered the reason for. . .”

  Tess looked up. She had just finished pulling the blanket up to Atwood’s chin. He had fallen asleep a short time ago, but she continued to massage his temples until a snore escaped his lips.

  Wesley stepped out into the hall and Tess followed, closing the door behind him.

  “What were the girls up to?” She didn’t try to mask the irritation in her tone.

  “They were exploring the house and something scared them in the cellar.”

  She was going to kill them. No doubt they were still searching for Lady Atwood.

  “I will see what I can do,” Tess offered. “Though I fear another lecture will do very little,” she muttered under her breath.

  She began to walk up the steps but was stopped by Wesley.

  “How did you get him to sleep like that?”

  Tess didn’t understand. Lord Atwood usually slept during the day.

  “He is relaxed,” Wesley continued.

  “He is asleep, as you just pointed out.”

  “No, did you see his face?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. He looked like any normal person when they slept. Perhaps he was more handsome than most, but nothing else was out of the ordinary.

  “It is relaxed. Even in his sleep, when the headaches are bad, his brow is wrinkled.”

  A smile pulled at her lips. “Oh, that is because his headache is gone. Or will be when he wakes up.”

  * * *

  “It had to be her.” Tess heard Eliza insist as she opened the door.

  All three girls looked up at her entrance. Their faces where ashen, eyes wide.

  “Who?” Tess demanded and closed the door behind her.

  “Lady Atwood,” Rosemary insisted.

  Tess took a deep breath in order to try and calm herself. She was anything but calm at the moment. “Am I to understand that you went to the cellar in search of a non-existent vampire?”

  “But she does exist,” Eliza insisted.

  “She does not,” Tess yelled.

  Each of the girls scooted back at her tone.

  “I have had more than enough of this from the three of you.” She paced as her anger rolled off her body. “Vampires do not exist. Lord Atwood is not a vampire and he has not brought his wife back from the dead.”

  “But the noise…”

  Tess turned on her. “Could have been anything, Eliza!” She stared down at the three of them. “I have had more than I can take of your foolishness. You will cease and desist now. You will stop with these crazy imaginations and use your energy to better your studies. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Miss Atwood,” they each answered in unison and in docile tones.

  She knew better than to trust they would give up on their beliefs, but perhaps they would behave, at least for one night.

  Tess strode for the door. When she had her hand on the doorknob she turned to them. “If this continues, I will write to each one of your parents. If it still continues, each of you will be sent home.” She exited the room and slammed the door behind her.

  * * *

  Vincent opened his eyes slowly and waited. Nothing. Thank goodness. He stretched his arms over his head then moved to sit up. The room was blanketed in darkness, except for the low fire. What time is it?

  “How are you feeling?”

  Her voice came from the area of his desk and he turned. “Better than I have in days,” he answered as he stared, trying to make out her appearance.

  The flint struck and Tess lit the lamp at his desk, illuminating her face. “I had a tray prepared for you.” She stood and motioned to the covered dishes on his desk.

  His stomach growled in response. “How long did I sleep?”

  “It is just past nine now.”

  “You should have awakened me.” He took her abandoned seat and lifted the covers. Though cold, the food still looked appetizing. His stomach growled.

  “You had been awake a full twenty-four hours when you fell asleep. I thought it best to leave you to your slumber.”

  He picked up a piece of bread and sat back and studied her as he nibbled at the crust.

  “Is there so
mething I could get for you?”

  “No,” he smiled. “I believe I have everything I need.”

  She fussed with her skirt before she took a seat in the chair across from him. “I want to apologize for the girls.”

  Vincent reached forward and poured a cup of tea. He had forgotten about them. “What scared them?”

  “A noise in your cellar.”

  His head jerked up and his eyes bore into hers. “What were they doing in the cellar?” he demanded in slow deliberation.

  Tess scooted back. She hadn’t expected this reaction. What was so important about that part of the house?

  “I am sorry. It is just that . . .”

  “You don’t need to explain,” Tess hastened to say. “They should not have been snooping and I have had a long talk with them.”

  Vincent arched an eyebrow and looked at her. “Do you think they will actually listen to you this time and behave?”

  Tess bit her bottom lip and turned away. “I would hope that they do. I’ve threatened to write to their parents if they do not.”

  “I am not sure those three will ever listen to anyone,” he chuckled and slipped is spoon into the bowl of cool soup. “At least not when they are together. I shudder to think what their husbands will have to put up with.”

  “I am sure they will eventually mature,” Tess offered with hope.

  Vincent lifted his eyes and looked at her. “You have much more faith than I do.”

  She chuckled and relaxed. “By the way, Rosemary found a piece of the map in a book today.”

  “How is that possible?” Vincent asked as he continued eating his meal.

  “I am sure it is the piece Sophia copied. I thought we should give it to Percer.”

  The spoon clanged against the Wedgewood bowl. “Are you out of your mind, Miss Crawford?”

  She stood and looked down at him. “Percer is going to return and demand a piece of the map. I don’t see why we can’t give him this one.”

  “Because as soon as he thinks he has it, he will kill you at worst, or have you arrested at best.”

  She sighed and turned away from him. Her normally erect spine curved due to her slumped shoulders. Surely Tess did not feel she was already defeated. “Which is why I will be leaving.”

  “What?” he yelled and stood at the same time.

  She whipped around and looked at him. “It is the only answer. I am not safe either way and it is better if I leave the country. I had not meant to tell you, but I could not leave without an explanation. Not after you have done so much for us.”

  Vincent moved around the desk so that he could stand directly in front of her. Her head lifted so she could look up at him. “You will not run from that madman. I will protect you.”

  “How?” she cried.

  “I will find a way.” He punctuated each word so she would understand.

  Tess threw up her hands and turned away. She walked to the sidebar and poured her own glass of brandy. The woman must be truly disturbed to take such an action.

  “Have either of your servants returned?” she asked, her back still to him.

  Vincent grimaced. Now was not the time for such news but she had a right to know. “David has. He is the one I sent to Lord Perham.”

  Tess turned to look at him. “At least the man will now be able to guard against danger.”

  “Perham is dead.” There was no better way to say it, so he didn’t try to soften the impact of his words.

  Tess swayed and grabbed the corner of his desk for support.

  Vincent marched forward and assisted her to a chair.

  “How?” Her eyes searched his for answers.

  “It has been deemed an accident.”

  “But you don’t believe so?” she persisted.

  Vincent took a seat and ran his fingers through his hair. “No,” he answered before he told her all that he had learned.

  She stood to pace. Agitation flowed off of her in waves. “This is not good. I can only hope Sophia’s father is well.”

  “I am sure he is,” Vincent offered in an attempt to comfort her, but couldn’t deny he was concerned. Michael had yet to return.

  She stopped before him and looked down. “Now you must realize the necessity of my leaving?”

  He smiled at her and her ridiculous statement. “I understand no such thing.”

  “My being here can only bring danger to you, the household, the girls.”

  Vincent reached out and grabbed her hands. “You do not think I can protect you and them?”

  She threw her head back and looked at the ceiling. “You could try, but Percer cannot be trusted.”

  “I believe I am rather insulted.” Vincent stood to look down at her.

  “You misunderstand.” Her eyes met his.

  Vincent lifted his hand to cradle her cheek. “No, I do understand,” he offered in a soft quiet voice. “You have every right to fear, but I will protect you. I promise.”

  He leaned forward and brought his lips to hers. He was grateful when she did not pull away, but returned his affection. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her to him. Tess’ arms came up and around his neck. Her fingers caressed through his hair. Vincent groaned and delved further and Tess met him every step of the way.

  His hands moved forward to clutch her bottom to pull her tight against his body. Tess reared back, broke the kiss and pulled away from him. “We should not have done that?”

  “Why?” He knew his smile must have infuriated her because her spine stiffened as well as her soft lips.

  “I told you I would not behave in such a manner again. We are to have a professional relationship, only.”

  He reached out to her but she maneuvered away from him.

  “I am serious, Lord Atwood. I will not carry on a dalliance with you, especially with impressionable young ladies in this household.”

  “I am not seeking a dalliance.”

  “Further,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard, “I intend to have the fake piece of the map delivered to Percer and be gone in a very short time.”

  “Tess, you are not going anywhere,” He ground out.

  “You cannot stop me.”

  He arched an eyebrow and looked down at her. He knew the look to be a challenge.

  “You have no hold on me,” she insisted. “It is best that I disappear and safer for everyone.”

  “I can protect you,” he insisted once again, his tone soft.”

  “How?” she cried in frustration.

  “Marry me.”

  “Delay not thy generous action, lest I die even this night,

  consumed with disappointed desire; and behold her face no more.”

  Wake Not the Dead

  Johann Ludwig Tieck

  Chapter 21

  Tess could not believe he just made such an outrageous suggestion. For a moment, all she could do was stare at him, stunned. She had to make a conscious effort to close her mouth.

  “Are you going to say anything?” Vincent asked, an odd smile quirked on his lips.

  “Are you insane?” she cried.

  The smile fell and at that moment Tess knew he had been serious. She would not weaken. Despite what he may have just said, Atwood certainly could not seriously consider marrying her. “Why?” she asked when he said nothing further.

  “To protect you, of course,”

  “That is not a reason to marry,” she dismissed and turned back to the door. She had every intention of retreating to her room, where she would stay for the night.

  “I have others,” he called from behind.

  She turned to look at him. “Other what?”

  “Reasons to be married.” He grinned at her and shrugged.

  “What could those possibly be?” Her frustration with this man increased by the moment.

  “I can protect you,”

  “You already offered that reason. And, I can protect myself,” she argued and dismissed him.

  “You have been the be
st secretary ever in my employ and I’m loathe to lose you.” He took a step in her direction.

  Tess retreated further. She would not allow him to be within reach. “If I recall, you have never had a secretary before.”

  “My headaches,” he continued. “Nobody can soothe me the way that you do.”

  “I will be happy to train one of the servants.”

  He stopped his advance on her and tilted his head, a look of consternation on his face. “How did you accomplish that, by the way? Nothing has brought relief other than brandy or laudanum.”

  “It is an ancient Chinese remedy.” She waived her hand in dismissal. “They called it acupuncture. Though they use needles. I simply did the same with my fingers and hoped they would produce the same effect.”

  “You did. I haven’t felt this wonderful in ages.” His grin widened.

  “It is still no reason to marry.” Tess crossed her arms over her chest in determination. There was nothing he could say to sway her.

  “Where did you learn about acupuncture?”

  “I have a fascination with China,” she sighed. “I would love to visit one day, but know that it is impossible. So, I learn all that I can.”

  “Did you ever want to learn how to do the treatment with needles?” He offered a teasing grin.

  She cringed.

  “I suppose not.” He laughed and stepped forward. Tess knew she should step back and away, but couldn’t her make legs move. His fingers traced the cut across her forehead. “The coloring is quite remarkable. Did you know it is now a greenish brown?”

  “I have a mirror,” she offered in a dry tone. She knew, as well as anyone, how ghastly her injury looked. “Are we finished?”

  “No,” he sighed. “Another reason is because I need you.”

  “You don’t need me. You have a house full of servants,” she countered.