by Donna Hatch
“Now, let’s discuss your education.” Leticia glanced at her notes with her interview questions.
During the interview, they learned the girl had a solid education and an infallible memory. She’d worked as assistant teacher at a factory school in the north where she’d received her education before she married. After her husband of two months died, she’d become a governess to seven children for nearly a year.
Upon completing the interview, Elizabeth said, “Wait in the main hall until we’ve completed the interviews, then you’ll come home with me, at least for a time, until we’ve made a decision and you are able to make other arrangements.”
The young woman nodded, her mouth working as if trying to hold back tears. “I’m so grateful to you, my lady.”
After the girl curtsied and left, they looked at each other. Leticia spoke first. “She’s well-spoken and well-educated, but I fear she may be too timid to control a large classroom.”
“She has experience—limited, admittedly—but she does have some.”
“Her experience is with girls who come from better circumstances. Street children may be much more unruly.”
“We shall see,” Elizabeth said.
Cooper announced their second applicant, and they repeated the process but found this one too stern. The third arrived, but after taking a look at the humble accommodations, announced she was no longer interested.
After the third applicant flounced away, Leticia glanced at Elizabeth who chewed on her lower lip.
“I like Mrs. Harper,” Leticia said.
“A trial basis, perhaps, then.” Elizabeth nodded. “If she isn’t up to the challenge of a larger classroom, we can, at the very least, give her a good reference so she may find a position elsewhere, and it will buy us time to find a replacement.”
Leticia pictured a brute trying to take advantage of that sweet slip of a girl in his employment. “Horrid man. I’d like to run him through.”
“Things like that should never happen,” Elizabeth agreed.
They stood and donned their gloves and hats. By then, the fire had died down to embers.
Cooper came in, banked the coals and turned to them. “Ready t’ go ’ome, m’lady?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, we’re going home. The girl in the main hall is coming with us. She’ll be our new teacher, but she shan’t stay here all alone.”
“O’ course not,” Cooper agreed. “Didn’t ye ’ire a caretaker?”
“And a maid, but they won’t arrive until after the furniture comes.”
Cooper summoned the carriage, locked all the doors and windows, then escorted them to the main hall. Did other footmen consider themselves their mistress’s personal bodyguards? Perhaps Richard had put him up to it. It would be so like him to be that protective.
The very young Mrs. Harper stood, chewing on her lower lip as she eyed them.
Leticia smiled. “Mrs. Harper, we’d like to offer you the position of head school mistress. You’ll begin next Monday.”
Mrs. Harper let out her breath in what almost could have been a sob. “Oh, ma’am, my lady, thank you. I promise to do my very best to help the young ones.”
“I’m sure you will,” Leticia soothed. “We have every confidence in your ability. The class will be small at first, but it will grow as word gets out.”
“Yes, ma’am. My last employer had seven active children, including twin boys. I may be small, but I can handle a class.”
Elizabeth said, “Since the school isn’t quite ready for boarders, you’ll stay with me. When the furniture and the other staff arrive, you can move in.”
“The carriage is ’ere, m’lady,” Cooper said.
They boarded the carriage, lighter of heart now that they’d found a schoolteacher. Elizabeth dropped off Leticia at Aunt Alice’s house and she practically skipped inside. The round table in the middle of the foyer groaned underneath the weight of the vases filled with flowers. Bouquets arrived each day for Isabella. What a triumph already!
Isabella entered the room and gestured to the flowers. “Aren’t they pretty? And look; one is for you.” She indicated a vase of red and white roses.
“Me?” Leticia picked up the card.
Dear Miss Wentworth,
I cannot recall when I have enjoyed the company of a lady as much as I enjoyed yours. Please consider doing me the favor of allowing me to call upon you in the near future. I look forward to spending time with you again.
Your humble servant,
Bradbury
“Oh, my,” Leticia breathed. Though Lord Bradbury had been generous to donate an exorbitant sum of money on her supper dance, he had done so out of kindness, not any personal gesture. Hadn’t he?
“Is it from Lord Bradbury?” Isabella leaned over her shoulder.
“It is.”
Isabella let out a squeal, then composed herself, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed her loss of comportment. “I knew it. You didn’t believe me, but I knew he liked you.”
“Oh, good heavens, Bella, it’s commonplace for a gentleman to send flowers to a lady with whom he danced.”
“These are roses.”
“It might be his signature. He might send roses to everyone.”
Isabella huffed. “Sometimes you are no fun at all.”
“It’s pointless to get one’s hopes up about a bouquet.” Leticia inhaled the fragrant scent.
“Are you afraid to get your hopes up?”
“He’s a kind gentleman, so yes I like him, but he’s also a viscount, so no, I’m not entertaining any naive dreams that he has intentions other than courtesy because we shared a dance and supper for a charity.”
“He singled you out at Vauxhall,” Isabella reminded her.
Leticia shrugged. “Tristan put him up to it. I need to change for dinner.” She turned away from her sister and climbed the curving staircase to her room.
Isabella followed. “What were the requirements on your list, the one you gave to Tristan when he made his wager with you?”
“I have no wish to discuss this.”
“If I recall correctly, you wanted a husband who would be faithful, kind, have integrity…oh, and something about wit and intelligence, as I recall.”
“Isabella…” Leticia warned. Clearly, relating to her sister the conversation she’d had with Tristan had been a lapse in judgment.
“Lord Bradbury is handsome, a viscount in possession of a great fortune, he seems kind, a witty conversationalist, doesn’t have a reputation for gambling, did not drink at either social event where I saw him, and, according to Aunt Alice, he is a man of integrity who has never had any public affairs, which means he’s either very discreet, or virtuous. Either way, he’s not a rake. If you don’t want him, you’re hopeless.”
Leticia stammered, unnerved by her sister’s onslaught. Finally, she managed, “No viscount of his means will consider wedding a country miss with a feeble dowry and a passable face.”
“Your face is beyond passable. As far as the rest—he will offer for you if he loves you.”
“He doesn’t love me.”
“He might if you give him a chance.” Isabella sighed. “If you don’t want him, can I have him?”
“If you love each other, bless you both.” Leticia turned away.
“What is this really about?”
At the doorway to her room, Leticia paused and leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m afraid to give him a chance.”
“Why?”
Leticia gathered her thoughts and gave voice to her fears. “What if I do fall in love with him, and then he marries another? I don’t think my heart would survive another blow of that nature.”
Isabella made a sound of distress. “Oh, Tish.” She wrapped her arms around Leticia and hugged her close. Leticia leaned against her sister, letting her love and warmth surround and comfort her.
After a moment, Leticia pulled away. “We need to dress for dinner.”
Isabella didn’t move. �
�You have so much love to give to a husband and a family. You are foolish not to give Lord Bradbury a chance.”
Leticia smiled sadly. “If he calls, I will encourage him, but I won’t hold out hope he has any designs on me.”
“Then I’ll hope enough for the both of us.” Isabella waltzed out of the room.
Leticia shook her head. She used to have Isabella’s innocence once when a future with Richard seemed certain. But not all dreams come true.
Chapter Fourteen
As Tristan arrived at Richard’s London house, he followed Leticia’s sweet voice to the front parlor where he found her ensconced with Elizabeth. Strange how he breathed easier in her company.
“The furniture arrived at the school moments ago,” Leticia said to Elizabeth. “Shall we be there to ensure they put everything where we want it?”
Elizabeth stood arranging flowers in a vase. “Richard sent Cooper off on an errand so I will need to wait until his return. You know how they are.”
Letitia’s expression turned wistful. “I think it’s sweet how protective they are of you.” She straightened as if redirecting her thoughts. “I’d like to get there as soon as possible, but I understand.”
Tristan stepped into the room. “I’d be happy to escort you. I’ve never seen this school of yours. I vow to guard your lovely selves as well as Cooper would.” The weight of his pistol tucked into the back pocket of his coat gave him a sense of security.
“How kind of you to offer,” Elizabeth said, “but I’m afraid we’ll need some men to move the furniture.”
Tristan pretended to be affronted. “I’m a man. I can move furniture.”
Leticia laughed. “We weren’t insulting your manliness, Tristan, but it might be dirty work.” She gestured his clothes.
Tristan looked down at his attire—buff breeches, blue tailcoat, gray-and-white striped waistcoat. Nothing remarkable about his understated clothing. “Should I tie my cravat into a plainer knot, then?”
They laughed at his quip.
“No,” Elizabeth said, “but your cravat might get dirty, along with the rest of your fine clothes.”
“Good. It will give my valet something to do. He’s getting too lazy by half. Shall I summon the carriage?”
“If you would, please.” Elizabeth tucked another flower into her arrangement.
By the time Tristan returned to inform them that the carriage awaited, Leticia and Elizabeth had donned their pelisses, gloves, and hats. Inside the carriage, they chatted as a group until they reached a rather ramshackle building. New shutters and a new front door stood out in sharp relief against the weather-beaten wood of the structure. Did the whole building lean to one side?
When the carriage stopped, Tristan gaped. “This is your school?”
Two pairs of defensive eyes met his. “Yes, this is it,” Leticia said with a challenge in her tone.
He huffed a disbelieving laugh. “A good, stiff wind could blow it over.”
“It doesn’t look like much but an engineer assured us that it was structurally sound.” Elizabeth sounded hurt, as if he’d told her that her baby was ugly.
Leticia rushed to say, “It needed some fixing up, of course: a new front door, windows, shutters, repairs to the main stairs. We also decided to whitewash the main schoolroom.”
Tristan nodded as if he agreed. At least no one would try to rob such a poor-looking place.
Inside, furniture and crates lay strewn about in the small, dark foyer with doors leading off to each side. Two brawny men carried another box to the end of the room. They set it down with a thud.
Elizabeth spoke to them, gesturing. They both grabbed crowbars and started opening boxes.
Tristan removed his tailcoat, collar, and cravat, and set them on a box next to his hat and gloves. As he rolled up his shirtsleeves, he looked at Leticia and Elizabeth who stood looking at him with their mouths open. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
Leticia put her hand over her mouth and pretended to be shocked at his state of dishabille. “Oh, my.”
He offered her a rakish grin. “Is that a request to take off more?” He made as if to unbutton his waistcoat as well.
“No!” Leticia and Elizabeth shouted together.
Tristan chuckled. Sometimes it was too fun to tease very proper women. He gestured to the maze of furniture. “Shall we start at this end and work our way back?”
“Very well.” Leticia nodded and removed her pelisse. “I’ll show you where to put the bed frames. Elizabeth, do you want to start going through those crates?”
“Of course.”
“Here.” Tristan grabbed a crowbar leaning next to the nearest crate and pried off the lid. Inside laid a stack of primers. After he opened all the crates, he picked up a bed frame and nodded at Leticia. “Lead on.”
She took him to the small bedchamber off from the kitchen and scullery. To his surprise, Leticia helped him set up the frame. He carried in the mattress and tossed it on the bed. As he stepped back, he caught Leticia looking at him, with an expression that, on any other woman, would have been called admiration. Desire, even. But on Leticia…
He grinned. “Leticia Wentworth, are you admiring my muscles?”
She flushed bright red. “No. I mean, of course I’m glad you’re strong enough to help us with all this heavy lifting, but I’m not admiring you. You are such a vain creature!”
He couldn’t resist teasing her a little more. “Come now, admit it; you want to see my muscles. You want to touch them.”
“I most certainly do not. I’ll leave it to all your ladybirds to feed your impossibly large vanity. I’m sure Mrs. Hunter does that quite well.”
He blinked. “Mrs. Hunter?”
She made a sound of disgust that resembled a cat coughing up a hairball. “I don’t care!” She marched out of the room.
Tristan stood, stunned. Leticia thought he was having an affair with Mrs. Hunter? And she was angry about it? Did this require further consideration?
Leticia returned a moment later with an armload of bedding. “One of the other bed frames goes in the room off of the servants’ entrance over that way.” She gestured. “I’ll show you where the third one goes upstairs when I’m finished.”
Clearly dismissed, Tristan went back into the main hall. Women were such perplexing creatures. And no, he did not want to think any more about the reason for her anger.
Elizabeth’s footman, Cooper, and another man arrived. Cooper addressed Elizabeth. “I got yer message, m’lady. You oughtn’t leave withou’ me.”
“I know, Cooper, but we wanted to get started, and Tristan is here with us.”
Tristan acknowledged Cooper who gave him a nod of deference but his mouth still turned down as if he felt unneeded.
Soon, they had the whole group working, and Cooper’s usual grin returned. Tristan kept up a series of quips, throwing out absurd poetry he made up as he went along, and keeping them all laughing. Working together, they got all three of the beds set up, as well as chests and a clothes press. Once the staff quarters were set up, they went to work on the schoolroom, setting up shelves, which Elizabeth and Leticia filled with books, and then bringing in the desks one by one. Tristan worked every bit as hard as the laborers, enjoying himself more than he would have suspected. When they’d finished, they stood back to admire their work.
“It looks like a school.” Leticia’s smile lit up the building. He half-expected her to clap her hands and jump up and down.
“It does indeed.” Elizabeth beamed.
Leticia indicated the end of the room furthest from the small fireplace. “We found another stove to put at this end. It should arrive any day now.”
“We hope to have a pianoforte, as well,” Elizabeth added.
One of the men who came with Cooper brought in a bucket of water that he’d pumped from outside and they all washed off a surprising amount of dirt.
Tristan donned his discarded cravat and tailcoat. “I’m starved. Anything to eat in
the kitchen?”
“No. We’ll have to go home.”
Tristan worked at the knot in his cravat that would probably leave his valet weeping. “Very well. Home it is.”
While Tristan handed Leticia and Elizabeth inside the Averston family coach, the workers perched outside. After settling himself in the rear-facing seat opposite the ladies, Tristan flexed his shoulders, trying to ease the tension and fatigue as if he’d spent hours boxing and fencing.
“Thank you for all your hard work, Tristan,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, you were wonderful.” Leticia’s smile turned impish. “I had no idea you were capable of lifting anything heavier than a riding crop or a hand of cards.”
He raised his chin and assumed a lofty air. “I can lift a gun, as you’ll recall.”
Her smile turned soft. “So you can, for which I am so very grateful.”
Tristan’s mouth dried. If she turned too many of those enchanting smiles on him, he might be tempted again to kiss her, and this time, do a thorough job of it.
He almost smacked his own forehead. Kissing Leticia would be a mistake for more reasons than he cared to enumerate. This threatened to get too serious. He searched for a change of topic.
“How is your mother?” Elizabeth asked Leticia.
Tristan let out a breath of relief that a benign conversation had started.
“She’s well,” Leticia said. “She is growing weary of spending so much time in bed, but she’s making the best of it. She’s taking up sketching again. She says my sisters sit on her bed and read aloud, and they’ve even put on theatrical performances for her.”
“I’m glad they’re keeping her company,” Elizabeth said. “Is she excited at the prospect of a new baby?”
Leticia smiled. “Very much. She’s hoping it’s a boy, of course. I’m sure my father is too, although he assures her he’ll love a daughter as much as a son, but I know it would be of great comfort to them both to have a son to inherit the estate.”
“When is she due?” Elizabeth asked.
“Late August or early September, she thinks.”
Elizabeth smiled, but wistfulness touched her expressive face. “I envy her.”
