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

by Charles, Jane

  Tess did not have the energy to try and make something up. Besides, Atwood already knew the worst of her sins. “I was simply remembering when Claudia, Natalie and I were that age.”

  A smile pulled at his lips. “For some reason I imagine you three were no different than those three.” He pointed to Eliza, Rosemary and Sophia.

  “Mrs. Wiggons has said the same,” Tess chuckled. “Though I do believe she is exaggerating.”

  “Remind me to ask her what mischief the three of you caused and I will make that determination myself.”

  Tess looked up into his warm, dark eyes. It would be so easy to fall in love with the man beside her. Especially on an evening such as this, when he was pleasant and kind, even if he teased her. How could anyone in this town think the man before her was a monster?

  Two older girls sat not far away, and were talking about their future debut in society next spring. Each described the perfect man, a title they wished to hold, but how they were determined to hold out for love.

  Tess knew Atwood could hear them as well, but he was polite not to look in their direction. If they knew he could hear, she could just imagine the mortification they would feel. A smile pulled at her lips.

  “Did you and your friends have similar discussions,” Vincent asked quietly.

  “Yes. It all seems so silly now.”

  “Why?” The smile fell from his lips as if saddened.

  “One does not know the future.”

  “But one can dream,” he insisted. “Did you dream of a perfect season, perfect husband?”

  Tess grew uncomfortable under his censure. “That was long ago, but yes, I did.”

  “It is not too late.” His dark pools bore into hers.

  “I am far past the age to be presented to society, or have a season,” Tess argued.

  “If you insist,” Vincent chuckled. “However, a husband, home, companionship and title are still within reach.”

  Tess turned away. Was he still offering to marry her? They barely knew one another. Besides, he never mentioned love.

  “Girls,” Mrs. Wiggons announced and clapped her hands. “Now that you are finished, you must turn in.” Tess sighed with relief and stood, glad to end this particular conversation with Vincent.

  A few of the girls groaned and stood. It had been a very pleasant evening and a nice change. But the hour did grow late and there were still classes tomorrow.

  Eliza made a great show of stretching and announcing to the entire room how tired she was. Rosemary followed suit. Those two were up to something, especially since Sophia looked sheepish and kept her head lowered. She would have to keep an eye on them until they were asleep.

  “Stay, Tess,” Claudia insisted as she bore down on her carrying two cups. “Neither you or Lord Atwood have drunk any chocolate. We will see that the girls are settled.”

  Tess looked at her friend. There was a mischievous gleam in her eye.

  “Yes, stay and join me, Miss Crawford,” Vincent insisted. He took the offered cup.

  “Very well,” she said at last and took the other chocolate.

  “Good night, and sleep well,” Claudia called over her over shoulder as she ushered the remaining girls out the room. She and Lord Atwood were now virtually alone. Why was she uncomfortable? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t shared an evening alone with him before.

  * * *

  Vincent gestured toward the abandoned couch in front of the fire. He would have to thank Miss Morris at a later date for suggesting Tess remain. He had seen the way Miss Morris looked at them and wondered if she weren’t playing matchmaker. He hoped that was the case because it wouldn’t hurt to have one of Miss Crawford’s best friends on his side.

  Ever since he first proposed, the desire to make Tess his wife had grown stronger by the moment. She was correct, however, it made no sense. They barely knew one another. But, each moment he spent alone with her, such as now, allowed them to learn more.

  Tess sat on the couch beside him, but as far away as she could without sitting on the arm. Her back rigid, eyes on the fire before her and she held the cup of chocolate in her hands.

  “Relax, I am not going to bite.”

  She gave him an impatient look. “That is hardly funny considering what everyone thinks of you.” She brought the cup to her lips and Vincent watched, wishing he were the rim.

  “Don’t look at me in that manner.”

  He brought his eyes back to hers and grinned. “What manner?”

  “As if . . . well. . .” Her face grew hot.

  “As if I wish to devour you?” His smile grew.

  She turned away. “Yes, I suppose that is what I meant.” Her hands shook as she placed the cup back in the saucer.

  “But what if I do? Any vampire in his right mind would.”

  “Oh, do stop,” she admonished and looked at him again. “I will not carry on in such an immoral manner with you.”

  “Ah, but if we were married, it would be perfectly moral, normal and expected.” He brought his face close to hers, intending to place his lips against hers.

  Tess reared back and stood. “Lord Atwood, you must cease making such ill-advised proposals.” She picked her cup up off the table and drained the contents.

  Vincent stood and took the empty cup from her hand. “I don’t consider it ill-advised, but rather well thought out.”

  She looked up at him with her large grey, charcoal-lashed eyes. Vincent snaked an arm around her waist and brought her flush against his body as his lips lowered. After a fraction of a moment she melted into him and sighed. Her fingers laced through his hair and she participated in the kiss as much as he. It took all his control not to scoop her up in his arms and carry Tess to his chamber. If he seduced her, she would have to marry him. But he didn’t want to enter into the union on such negative terms. No, he would woo her until she capitulated. Then, he would seduce her.

  Tess pushed against his chest and took a step back. “You must never do that again.”

  He adored the lovely pink hue to her face and her plump, kiss-swollen lips. As he refused to agree to her demand, he simply smiled.

  “You are impossible. I shall not allow myself to be alone with you again.” Tess turned and strode from the room.

  Vincent chuckled and reached down for his cup of chocolate. He wondered if she would insist on a chaperone next time she attended her secretarial duties.

  * * *

  “Less than an hour,” Eliza announced.

  Sophia looked at her two friends. They were dressed in their warmest clothes, but had also doused themselves in flour, as had she.

  “We look just like ghosts. You are so ingenious, Eliza,” Rosemary gushed.

  “We look like fools and how are we ever going to get this flour out of our hair without making a sticky mess in the tub?”

  “Now, all we have to do is wait.” Eliza ignored the question and grinned.

  The fear of offending her beyond forgiveness and his anxiety to appease

  he soon dried up his tears; and he again abandoned himself

  to his fatal passion, until approaching destruction at length

  awakened him from delusion.

  Wake Not the Dead

  Johann Ludwig Tieck

  Chapter 25

  Tess groaned and sat up in bed. She forgot to check on the girls. She pulled on her robe and stuck her head out the door. Vincent approached from the stairs.

  “I need to make sure the girls have retired.” She tightened the tie on her robe.

  Vincent glanced down the hall in the opposite direction. “I am sure they are sound asleep by now.” He yawned. “I plan on doing the same. Get some rest, Tess. Tomorrow is a new day and we have to be prepared for Percer.”

  Tess looked past him and bit her lower lip. There was no sound coming from that direction. She brought a hand up to cover her own yawn. Vincent was right. They would be fine tonight and she was very tired. “Good night, then.”

  He stopped before her and T
ess looked up. He bent and placed a chaste peck on her lips. “Sleep well and have pleasant dreams.” He turned and walked to his own door.

  Everything about that man confused her. Tess closed the door and returned to her own bed.

  * * *

  “Miss Crawford, wake up, please.”

  Pounding and the panicked voice of Rosemary brought Tess from her sleep. She jumped from the bed and ran to the door. She gasped at the sight of Rosemary and Eliza partially covered in flour.

  “What is wrong with you two?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

  “She took her and we have to get her back before it is too late,” Rosemary cried.

  “Who took who?” Vincent demanded as he strode from his room. Tess snatched the girls into her chamber and Vincent followed. It would do no good to have the entire household in a panic for nothing. Or at least what she hoped was nothing.

  “Honest, I thought it was a dream, I truly did.”

  “What? Slow down and explain everything.” Tess hoped her voice sounded calm so the girls would follow suit. Behind them Vincent leaned against the door, his arms folded across his chest. Oh dear, he wore that robe again, the one that revealed far too much of his chest. She returned her focus to the students and tried to put his image from her mind. They had not looked in his direction and she doubted they knew Vincent followed them into the room.

  Eliza took a deep breath. “Last night was All Hallows Eve.”

  “Yes,” Tess responded and wondered what that had to do with anything.

  Rosemary stepped forward and explained their plan. Tess glanced up at Vincent and prayed he wasn’t angry, insulted or hurt by what the girls had just told her. His head was down and his shoulders shook. Thank goodness he found humor in their antics.

  “We fell asleep before midnight, so we were not successful,” Rosemary finished in a defeated tone.

  “That still does not explain to me what is wrong now,” Tess reminded them.

  “When we were asleep, Lady Atwood took Sophia,” Eliza announced with irritation, as if she thought Tess should have understood already.

  “That is impossible, girls,” Tess insisted. “Perhaps Sophia is with her father.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” Rosemary cried. “We saw Lady Atwood come into the room and carry Sophia out.”

  “What?” Vincent stiffened and marched toward the girls. They turned and looked at him. Tess moved around to put herself between the girls and Atwood. They were scared enough already without having to face his anger. Gone were any signs of his earlier humor.

  “I thought it was a dream. I woke and saw her come in. I tried to talk, but couldn’t make my mouth move,” Rosemary insisted.

  “The same thing happened to me. She was there one moment and gone the next. But I couldn’t make my body do anything. The next thing I knew it was morning and Sophia was gone.”

  Tess looked up to meet Vincent’s eyes. “It wasn’t Lady Atwood,” Tess insisted once again.

  “But it was,” Eliza argued. “She wore a long white gown and blond hair flowed down her back.”

  Vincent turned and stomped from the room. Tess could hear him pounding on the door where Lord Hopkins slept.

  Tess followed, as did the girls.

  “How can I help you, Atwood?” the man asked. He too had been asleep.

  “Is your daughter with you?” he barked.

  Hopkins took a step back. “No,” he answered after a moment.

  Vincent turned and marched down the hall to the girl’s room. Hopkins hurried after him, hastily tying his robe. Tess trailed them, with Eliza and Rosemary not far behind.

  He stood in the center of the room, a hand over his eyes to block the bright glare from the sun. Pain was evident on his face, if his grimace and narrowed eyes were any indication. Tess moved forward and closed the drapers.

  “Thank you,” he muttered, but did not look at her. He searched the room and came to a stop by the small desk in the corner. “Who knew of your plans last night?” he asked the girls.

  “Nobody. Just the three of us,” Eliza answered.

  “Somebody else must have known because I know my wife did not take her.”

  “Honest, Lord Atwood, we told no one else,” Rosemary cried, a tear slipped down her cheek.

  “Did you discuss your plans anywhere besides this room?”

  Tess knew he suspected Percer. But, the man had to have known what the girls were about if he was going to dress as Vincent’s dead wife.

  “The gazebo,” Rosemary answered in a quiet tone.

  “When was this?” Vincent demanded.

  “Yesterday.” A sob escaped from Eliza.

  “I told you girls to stay close to the house. Once again you defied me. When this is all over, you will be separated and confined to your rooms when not in class and until I believe you have learned your lesson.” Tess wanted to wring their necks.

  “Yes, Miss Crawford.” The two girls moved to each other, clasped hands and looked at the floor.

  “He must have overheard them,” Vincent assumed. “But where has he taken her?”

  “If he harms a hair on her head, I will see him to hell,” Hopkins announced from where he stood in the doorway. The man was as pale as a ghost with worry over his daughter.

  “Who?” Eliza asked again.

  “Percer,” Tess ground out.

  The girls blanched. “But he has what he came for. Why would he remain here?”

  Tess glared at them, much too angry to explain, nor did they deserve any consideration at the moment. Had they done as they were told, Percer would never have known when or how to get Sophia.

  “Come.” Vincent touched her elbow. “Let’s dress and try to figure out where Percer has taken Sophia. We already know what he wants.”

  Tess allowed him to lead her from the room. He spoke over her head to the girls. “I’ll send your headmistress down to explain. Do not leave this room.”

  * * *

  The three adults met in the library, more appropriately dressed for the day. Wesley greeted them first. “I apologize, Lord Vincent, that I wasn’t available to attend you this morning. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Vincent dismissed the man. “No worry.” This was the first time in memory Wesley hadn’t been awake or at least available when he rang for him.

  Mrs. Zobard hurried in after him. “Breakfast will be served shortly, sir. It appears the entire household overslept this morning. How very odd. The likes of such has never happened.”

  Vincent glanced up at the clock. It was seven-thirty in the morning. Unfortunately, given his recent sleep and wake hours, he was not accustomed to the sleeping and work habits of his staff. However, the fact that everyone had slept late gave him pause.

  “Excuse me.” Tess quit the room before he could ask her anything further and he turned to his valet. “What time does the household usually awaken?”

  “No later than six, sir. I don’t know what has gotten into everyone today.”

  He wondered the same thing and dismissed his servants.

  “Where do you think he has taken my Sophia?”

  “I wish I knew, Hopkins. However, I am sure she is fine.”

  “Until we give into his demands.” Hopkins paced.

  “Do you think he has made the connection between you and your daughter?”

  “It would be too much of a coincidence if he hadn’t. No. The man knew he could demand the remaining pieces of the map when he took her from this house.”

  Vincent had to agree. Had Percer not known Sophia’s relation, he could have taken anyone. But, even when he spoke with Tess he made a point of naming Hopkins’ daughter.

  Tess rushed back into the room. “Mrs. Wiggons and the other teachers are just waking. They have never slept this late.”

  “We did all retire rather late last evening,” Hopkins offered.

  “No, it is more than that.” Vincent marched to the wall and tugged on the bell pull. Wesley appeared in a
matter of moments. “Please find Mrs. Zobard and bring her here.”

  “Do you think they know something of Sophia?” Hopkins asked.

  “No, but they may have clues as to how Percer was able to come in here and take her.”

  The two servants returned a moment later. “How can I help you, Lord Atwood?” Mrs. Zobard bobbed a curtsey, a frown marred her brow.

  “You said every staff member overslept this morning?”

  “I assure you, it will not happen again. I don’t know what came over us all, but I promise, in the future, that they will be at their duties on time.” She wrung her hands in agitation.

  Vincent held up a hand to stop her. “Nobody is in trouble, Mrs. Wiggons. I am more concerned over the oddity of it all.”

  The housekeeper’s hands stilled. “It is rightly odd.”

  “I am just trying to determine why.”

  “Did everyone eat the same dinner?” Hopkins asked.

  “Yes, more or less.”

  “Is there something we ate in the dining room, that was also eaten by all of the staff?”

  She thought for a moment and went back to wringing her hands. “No, not everyone ate the same things.”

  Vincent raked his fingers through his hair. There had to be a commonality between the staff and his guests.

  “Do you think we were all drugged?” Lines of concern were etched about her intriguing eyes.

  “Yes, it is the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Is there anything we all ate or drank last night?” He directed the question to the housekeeper once again.

  “I don’t know Lord Atwood. The question is best put to the cook.”

  “I already know,” Tess answered, her face pale. “It was the chocolate.”

  “Yes, I do believe everyone had chocolate last night. The McClary’s sent so much over.”

  The truth dawned on him. He and Tess had drank chocolate two nights before and slept like the dead. Or, at least he had, he never asked her. Last night his slumber had been the same. “Mrs. Zobard, please ask cook if everyone did drink the chocolate.”