Mrs. Brodie’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies

by Galen, Shana

  “Tempting as that sounds, I want to see all of you. Stays first, I think.” He pushed her gently back and unlaced her stays, then tugged at the hem of her chemise. Pulling it over her head, he dropped it on the floor. She felt suddenly self-conscious, standing there in nothing but her stockings and garters, but as soon as she looked at him, all traces of embarrassment fled. There was nothing but desire and heat in the way he looked at her. His gaze was almost reverent.

  “Let’s get those stockings off,” he said, voice husky. He took her hand and led her to the bed. She sat, and he spread her legs, kneeling between them. He took one foot, lifted it, and slid his other hand up her calf to just above her knee where her black garters secured her white stocking. He lowered the garters, then rolled the stocking down very slowly. Bridget trembled, then struggled to catch her breath as he set her bare foot on his shoulder and turned to her other leg. He didn’t lift that one, though. Instead, he bent and kissed the bare flesh above her knee. His lips slid upward, and she was all but panting.

  His mouth moved farther up her thigh, and she leaned back, catching herself on her elbows. He spread her legs farther and pressed his mouth where her legs joined her torso. Her hands clenched on the rough blanket as his lips slid over and his tongue lapped at the delicate flesh. When he found the bud that gave her pleasure, she shook so badly, she lay flat, giving herself up to his ministrations.

  She’d forgotten this. She’d forgotten how well he pleasured her with his mouth. He could draw it out for hours, making her climax over and over, until she thought she had nothing left. His tongue was gentle, teasing and testing. He spread her legs wider and circled her, pulling back when she came too close to peaking.

  “Please,” she begged in a whisper, because she feared if she spoke any louder, she might scream. “I want you inside me.”

  “Patience,” he murmured, beginning his teasing again. Her breathing grew rapid until she was gasping and clawing at the blanket. Finally, finally, he pressed his tongue deliberately against her sensitive bud, and she came apart. Just as she began to descend, he drove into her, and she soared higher again. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Caleb wasn’t gentle, and she didn’t want him to be. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper. Finally, he tensed and cried out, withdrawing quickly and spilling himself on her belly.

  He fell beside her, chest rising and falling. When he’d recovered, he found a cloth, cleaned her, then lay beside her again and pulled her close. “I’ve missed you.” He buried his face in her hair and stroked her shoulder.

  “I’ve missed you.” She turned to look at him. For all these years, she’d held her memories of him locked away in the back of her mind. She hadn’t wanted to take them out and examine them, because he’d left her. But now she knew he hadn’t left her out of choice but duty. And the time she’d spent with him these past days, along with the past they’d shared, swirled together. “I don’t want you to go.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “I love you.”

  He stilled. “I didn’t think you’d say it again. I didn’t know if you’d trust me.”

  “I trust you. I know you only want to protect me and James. If we can’t be together in London, what if we traveled with you to somewhere safe?”

  Caleb shook his head. “Long sea voyages can be dangerous. There are storms and mercenaries.”

  She kissed him. “The streets of London can be dangerous as well. Together we will keep each other safe.”

  He lay back and stared at the ceiling for so long she thought he would deny her. Then finally, he rose on one elbow. “I should tell you no.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “I won’t. But we must find James tomorrow. We need to leave on the first ship where I can book passage.”

  Chapter Seven

  HE’D LEFT HER WELL after midnight. It had been no easy feat to force himself away from the warmth of her body and the sweet perfume of her skin. But if anyone was watching the boarding house, he had to leave under cover of darkness or risk being caught.

  Caleb had gone out the back door, through the kitchen, and into a back alley. From there, he’d made his way to the docks, avoiding the main thoroughfares and keeping to the side streets as much as possible.

  He’d found a ship bound for Canada via Ireland. The captain had no cabins left, but he offered Caleb first choice of vacated cabins once they reached the isle. Caleb paid the fare for three and hoped Bridget thought sleeping under the stars for a night or two romantic.

  It was easy to hide in the taverns and warehouses that lined the docks. No one looked too closely at a man here, and most men kept their hats down low and their eyes on their own business.

  At two o’clock, he started back into the city toward the charity hospital. Bridget had said she’d ask another teacher to take her afternoon classes so she could go to the hospital. He’d meet her outside, and they’d go to the orphanage together.

  He walked quickly, keeping an eye over his shoulder. When he arrived at the hospital, he waited across the street from it, tucking himself behind the pillar of a building. He’d been waiting about a quarter of an hour when Bridget entered. She wore her cream and peach dress and a hat to match. Her hair was in curls over one shoulder, and she looked as pretty as he’d ever seen her.

  He ducked back behind the pillar, allowing himself a few moments to imagine their life together. He’d marry her as soon as possible. Perhaps they could get a license when the ship docked in Ireland. He wanted to be her husband. He was already a father. He still couldn’t believe he was the father of the beautiful child she’d shown him in the drawings last night. Had she just imagined the resemblance the boy bore to Caleb, or did he really look like his father?

  He’d find a position in the government of Canada. He knew how government offices worked. Bridget could give drawing lessons, and they’d find a school for James. There would be more children—girls and boys who would bring them joy and perhaps frustrate them as well. He wouldn’t have to watch his back any longer. He wouldn’t have to hide.

  Caleb glanced out from behind the pillar, watching the door to the hospital more keenly now. A few minutes later, Bridget emerged. She looked about, and he stepped out from the pillar long enough for her to spot him before ducking back again. Her face had broken into a beatific smile, and he knew without having to be told that she had the information she wanted.

  “I know where he is,” she said, darting behind the pillar. “Rather, where the orphanage is. I suppose there’s no guarantee James will still be there.” She told him the street, and he nodded. It was in a prosperous area of Town, but that didn’t mean he could relax his guard.

  “Did you book passage?” she asked.

  “Yes. We go to Ireland, then Canada.”

  She nodded, looking both excited and scared. “I took my things to the academy this morning. I can send word to have them sent to the dock. I didn’t want to trust Mrs. Jacobs to do it. She’d probably charge me for her troubles.”

  “There’s no doubt of that. Shall we go collect James?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

  Caleb led the way, keeping her arm tucked in his and his head down. He still avoided the main streets, but the back alleys were mostly mews once they reached the West End.

  “Two more blocks and we should reach it,” she said.

  “You’ll finally see him again.”

  She gripped his arm tightly, and he paused, glancing about at the grooms moving horses in and out of stables around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind.

  “What if he doesn’t remember me? He was so young.”

  Caleb thought it unlikely the boy would remember her. “Then you start off as friends and earn his trust, and his love will follow.”

  “He won’t be the same little boy I knew. He’ll be eight years old. I’ve missed so much.”

  He squeezed her arm. “You did what you had to. You won’t miss a day more.”

  She took a deep breath, t
hen made a face because the air smelled strongly of manure. “I’m ready.”

  They started forward, but had gone no more than two or three steps when two men stepped out from behind one of the buildings. Caleb stopped, pulling Bridget close to him. She immediately saw the danger and turned to go back the way they’d come, but two more men stepped into their path. “I’ll distract them,” he murmured. “You run to the orphanage. I’ll meet you. If I don’t, go back to the academy. You’ll be safe there.”

  “But—”

  He didn’t wait for her to finish. He pushed her aside and ran for the two men in front of them. Taken by surprise, they fell back, and Caleb got in several punches before they came at him. Bridget tried to go around, but just as she had a clear path, the men approaching from the rear went for her.

  Caleb let out a yell, broke away from the men he’d been fighting, and tackled one of the men after Bridget. He was surrounded now, four against one. The odds were not in his favor, but amid the volley of fists, he saw Bridget running toward the orphanage.

  SHE DIDN’T STOP UNTIL she reached the Sunnybrooke Home for Boys. Even then, she couldn’t stop expecting the men who’d attacked Caleb to catch up to her. When they didn’t leap out from around the corner, she pressed herself against the wall and took several deep breaths. It wouldn’t do to arrive winded and disheveled.

  She smoothed her skirts and hair, slowed her breathing, and said a quick prayer for Caleb. If those men killed him, it would be her fault. She’d persuaded him to take her with him. He could have been safely on a ship already if not for her.

  Swallowing her fear, she tapped on the door and waited. Nothing happened, so she knocked more firmly. A moment later, she heard footsteps, and a young woman in a dress and apron opened the door. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here about a boy. I had to leave him with this orphanage about five years ago. Now I’ve come to take him back.”

  The maid blinked in surprise. Clearly, this did not happen often. Finally, she opened the door wider and motioned for Bridget to enter. “You’ll be wanting Lady Julia, I think. Come sit in the parlor while I fetch her.”

  Bridget stepped inside a well-lit circular foyer surrounded by doors. One was open, and she could see the dining room, where the maid who’d opened the door must have been cleaning when Bridget had knocked. The room boasted two long tables where the children took meals. Windows looked out onto the street, and landscapes adorned the white, clean walls. Steps led to the upper floors. They were carpeted and bracketed by wooden railings that gleamed in the afternoon sunshine. If she hadn’t known this was a home for orphans, she would have thought it an academy like the one where she taught.

  “Where are the children?” Bridget asked.

  “The older ones are at their lessons, and the littles are up from their naps and having their tea.” She opened another door that led into a room painted pale blue. Comfortable chairs upholstered in cream damask were set in an inviting arrangement. “Wait here. May I ask the name of the child you seek?”

  Bridget cleared her throat. “James. James Lavery.”

  The maid furrowed her brow as though she didn’t know the name, but bobbed and closed the door. Bridget stood with her hands clasped as the sound of the woman’s shoes grew fainter and fainter. What if he wasn’t here? What if she and Caleb had risked everything and James wasn’t here? And Caleb—she’d left him fighting four men. What if he did not come to the orphanage? What if she lost both James and Caleb today?

  Bridget crossed the small room to a window covered with white lace and framed by light blue draperies. She moved the lace aside and looked out on a small garden with ample room for boys to play. Indeed, several balls and a croquet set were spread about the lawn. Bridget prayed James would be here. Not only because she wanted to find him, but because she could see this was the sort of place where children were loved and cared for.

  The door opened, and she spun around. A woman of medium height with coppery-red hair and large brown eyes stepped inside. “Good afternoon.” She had an upper-class accent, and the navy and white gown she wore was of the best quality. “I am Lady Julia. I’ve run Sunnybrooke these past four years.”

  Bridget crossed to her and shook her hand. “Bridget Lavery. I left my son at St. Dismas about five years ago. My husband and I were to be sent to Fleet Prison, and I didn’t want James to suffer with us.”

  “I see.” She gestured to the chairs, and Bridget sat on the edge of one. “Shall I ring for tea?”

  “That’s not necessary, my lady. I just came for James. I paid off my debt, and I have a good job now and a place of my own. I’ve been looking for him, but the old orphanage wasn’t there.”

  “It burned down, yes.” She lifted a file she held. “Sanders said you wanted James, but I think the boy you mean is the one we call Jimmy.”

  “Jimmy, yes. We called him that when he was little.” Bridget’s chest tightened. “He’s still here?”

  “He is.” She opened the file folder. “James Lavery was surrendered by his mother, Bridget, and his father, Robert, in 1814. Are you Bridget?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Robert?”

  “He passed away in prison. To tell you the truth, he wasn’t James—Jimmy’s real father. His real father couldn’t be here this afternoon. He had some…government business to attend to. But he wants us to be a family, as do I.”

  “Jimmy’s father works for the government?”

  “You could say that. In fact, we’re thinking of sailing to Canada. I know it would be a big change for Jimmy.” She was rambling now, but she was so nervous and anxious to see Jimmy.

  “It would, but he’s an adventurous boy. I don’t think he’d have trouble adapting.” She closed the folder. “He’s always said you would come back for him. I don’t think any of us believed him, but here you are.”

  “Then you’ll let me have him?”

  “If he wants to go with you, yes. Everything you’ve said matches what I have in the file, even your description. I rarely see happy endings like this.” She rang a bell. “Let’s fetch him, shall we?”

  The door opened, and the maid, Sanders, entered. “Yes, my lady?”

  “Will you ask Jimmy to come down, please?”

  “Jimmy?” Her eyes darted to Bridget. “Certainly, my lady.” She closed the door, and Bridget let out a shaky breath.

  “You’re nervous. Don’t be. He’s a wonderful boy. He’s been waiting for you.”

  “He’s been waiting a long time. I was afraid he’d think I forgot about him.”

  “There might have been days when he felt that way, but a mother’s love can heal those small wounds.”

  The sounds of thumping feet on the stairs drew their attention. “Ah, here he comes.”

  Bridget stood, visibly trembling now. She’d never been so frightened in all her life. She clenched her hands together until her nails bit into her palms.

  A knock sounded on the door, and then Sanders opened it, and a boy just over four feet with straight brown hair and bright blue eyes stepped inside. His gaze passed over Bridget and went straight to Lady Julia. “What’s wrong, my lady?”

  Lady Julia smiled at him. “Nothing, Jimmy. In fact, I have very good news.”

  His brows rose expectantly.

  “For years, you’ve been saying your parents were in debtor’s prison and would come back for you.” He nodded. “This is your mother.” She gestured to Bridget. “She’s come back.”

  The boy’s eyes flicked to Bridget, and she clasped her hands together so tightly it hurt. She tried to manage a smile, but it wobbled, and she felt tears in her eyes. “James—Jimmy,” she said. “I’m your mother, Bridget Lavery. I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

  He stared at her, and she could see that he was working to try to remember her. She was trying to take the face she saw before her now and fit it against what she remembered of him as a baby. His face had grown and matured, but the eyes were the same, as was the
nose and the expression he gave her. His hair had darkened, as she’d expected, and he looked fit and healthy.

  “You’re my mother?”

  She nodded. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  He took a step closer. “Where’s my father?”

  She looked down. “I’m afraid the man I was married to when you were born passed away in Fleet Prison. But your real father would very much like to meet you. He’s back from the war now, and you have his eyes.”

  He touched his brow and took another step closer. “I do?”

  “The very same.” A sob escaped her best efforts to hold it back. “James, I’m so sorry I had to leave you here. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how you can forgive me, but if you’ll let me, I’ll never leave you again. I’ll be a good mother to you.”

  He ran into her arms and hugged her fiercely. “Don’t cry. I know you didn’t want to do it. I knew you’d be back.”

  Bridget cried all the harder because he was comforting her. “I never stopped loving you.” She took his face in her hands. “Never. Not for a day or an hour or a minute. I thought of you always.”

  “I thought of you too, Mama.” He hugged her again, and she pulled him tight against her. They stayed like that for a long time. Bridget didn’t ever want to let him go. She had him in her arms again, those arms that had ached in their emptiness were filled once more.

  “You smell the same,” he said quietly. She drew back and looked at him. “I don’t remember what you looked like, but I remember how you smelled. It’s the same.” Tears shimmered in his blue eyes, and she kissed them away.

  “Jimmy,” Lady Julia said quietly. “Your mother would like you to go with her. In fact, I think she and your father have plans to travel to Canada. Do you want to go with her? You don’t have to go tonight. You can think about it. Take a few days to decide.”

  Bridget took a deep breath. Caleb didn’t have a few days, but she could hardly force the child to leave everything he’d known at a moment’s notice.