by Amelia Grey
“Yes, my lady,” she said and left the room.
“Where are the rest of the girls?” Adeline asked Mrs. Tallon.
“I had Miss Peat and Miss Hinson take them to the workroom.”
“Good. Let’s stand over here by the window where Fanny and Mathilda can’t hear us talk.” The woman followed her to the other side of the large room and Adeline asked, “Have you been thinking about what might be a fitting punishment for these two?”
“Oh, we must send them home,” she said without hesitation. “They’re a hindrance to all the girls.”
Adeline was sure that would be her answer but she still didn’t want to do it. “Do they disrupt the class in any way?”
“No. They participate in everything. Quite good at all they do, but as soon as my back is turned they’re off to look at something. And it’s not like they haven’t been warned not to do it again. Mrs. Lawton said they were found on the earl’s property. That’s unpardonable as far as I’m concerned.”
Was it? Adeline pursed her lips and studied over that. It had been her first reaction for their disobedience, too. If she did that, they would have few recourse for their futures. Helping the girls had been her only goal when she started the school. Not doing so would mean she’d failed and they had taken control away from her. That thought stiffened Adeline’s back. She wasn’t going to let the ten-year-olds win this battle.
Mrs. Tallon had been right when she said Fanny would start engaging the others with her mischief. Mathilda was her first quarry. Adeline intended to make sure she was also the last.
“If I don’t agree to dismiss them, what other punishment would you suggest?”
The woman looked at Adeline as if she’d lost her mind. “What else is there, my lady? We’ve already tried extra work. Fanny didn’t seem to mind that at all. You told me not to use my cane. Not to even bring it to the school with me. I don’t know what else we can do.”
Lyon had mentioned just the threat of the cane might bring about change in their behavior, and she knew it was a common practice in boys’ schools. Adeline didn’t even want to consider it but she must. Desperate measures were needed if she was going to keep the girls at the school.
Adeline rubbed the back of her neck, and memories of Lyon massaging her nape invaded her thoughts. She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed the memory of his gentle strength, the warmth of his touch, and the taste of his kisses wash over her. For a few minutes he’d made her forget she had to make a difficult judgment on the problem before her.
Her eyes popped open. Suddenly she was clear on what she needed to say. “Fanny and Mathilda will not be allowed to play with the other children for a full month. When you take them to the park, those two are to take writing and number lessons with them and work the entire time the others are there enjoying themselves. That is their punishment.”
Mrs. Tallon’s back bowed but she remained silent. The headmistress didn’t know Adeline wasn’t finished.
“That is their punishment for leaving the school. For their recompense to the earl for trespassing on his property, while the other girls are enjoying their time of singing, have Miss Peat keep Fanny and Mathilda in the workroom. They are to learn how to make a neckcloth—more than one design would probably be good. Once their quality of stitch has been perfected, and it has been inspected and accepted by you as flawless, they will then make the earl a dozen neckcloths. Each one to be perfectly stitched, washed, pressed, and ready for wearing. That should keep them too busy to wander off.”
A victory smile eased across the older woman’s face. “That sounds adequate to me, my lady. Though, it may take a while. I’ve not even started teaching them how to cut a linen cloth or to make a fine stitch.”
“I don’t think you need to be in a hurry. Take all the time you need. When all is finished, we’ll set a day for you to bring the neckcloths and the girls to me, and I’ll see to it they deliver them to the earl bearing their written and verbal apologies, too.”
“I’ll see it’s all done to your satisfaction.”
“Thank you.” Adeline then strode over to stand between Fanny and Mathilda. She glanced from one to the other, hoping guilt and sorrow over what they’d done would show in their expressions. All she saw was girlish innocence in their faces. Sick to her stomach and denying her innate reluctance to be harsh, she squared her shoulders and said, “I don’t know the reasons for your misbehavior today, but your offense justifies being dismissed from school and sent home.”
Fanny’s mouth opened in shock before she quickly said, “Don’t send Mathilda home. She didn’t want to go into his house. I made her go with me because I didn’t want to go alone.”
Adeline wasn’t expecting either of them to say anything, but she turned to Mathilda and said, “You are more than a head taller than Fanny. Did she force you to do anything you didn’t want to do?”
Mathilda rolled her big eyes toward Fanny and slowly shook her head. “I wanted to see inside the house, too.”
“I thought as much. Fanny, do you want to go home and be able to read to your mother?”
The little girl looked down at her feet for a moment and then back to Adeline and said, “Yes, my lady.”
“That’s what I want, too, and because of that I won’t send either of you home today. You will remain here. Your families sent you to this school to become a seamstress, to be able to write, add numbers and to read. I will not fail them because of your selfish behavior or because of a rebellious spirit or even girlish inquisitiveness. But as of right now you will start obeying the rules—all of them or I will have Mrs. Tallon bring her cane to the school and give her permission to use it on your backsides if you disobey her.” Adeline looked directly at Fanny. “Do I make myself clear?”
Fanny nodded and so did Mathilda.
“Mrs. Tallon. Please place your cane in one of the corners of the classroom.”
“Of course, Lady Wake.”
Adeline held her breath and strode across the room and out of the school without saying anything else. She couldn’t. As soon as she shut the door behind her she swallowed down a sob. And then another. And another. Almost choking herself to keep from making a sound until she was far enough away from the school that the girls couldn’t hear her.
She couldn’t stop the tears rolling down her face.
She would never allow Mrs. Tallon to do such a harsh thing to any of the girls. It had been wrenching to say it. She’d had no choice. Fanny had to be frightened and believe Adeline would do it, or she’d continue on her unruly path. Adeline hoped Lyon was right and just the fear of the cane would work wonders in making one comply.
She wiped her eyes with her fingertips, knowing that saying no to Lyon’s marriage proposal was even more wrenching than threatening the girls with a harsher punishment should they step out of line again.
Chapter 17
No matter whatever else might be going on in London or the world, the elite of Society always made it to the most pretentious ball of the Season. The first one—where all the madness of the ton’s wealth and prestige was on display in the lavish and colorful fashion of those attending. It was only equaled by the glimmering, golden glow of candlelight sparkling off the crystal chandeliers hanging from the painted vaulted ceilings and mounted on the pristine plaster walls. The flower-decorated ballroom hummed with the constant strum of violins and cellos flowing flawlessly in tune with the melodic tinkling of ivory-covered keys, frenetic chatter, and uninhibited laughter.
Expense for the extravagant opening of the Season was never spared. Many members of Society vied for the opportunity to be one of the chosen few who gave generously for the honor of being a host for the spectacular evening of debuting the new bevy of young ladies who were now on display and eligible for the marriage mart. Amidst the glamour of the evening there was also a tremendous amount of rubbing elbows for business and political purposes, kissing of ladies’ hands, and dancing for everyone as the London Season began. Smaller part
ies would be held at the Great Hall all through the spring, but none would compare to this one.
That’s the way the ton wanted it.
Lyon and his father stood facing the entrance to the ballroom with three other gentlemen, drinking champagne and discussing with, or rather listening to, Marksworth defend the Prince’s continuous pageantry week after week and the outrageous expenditures that were allowed at Carlton House, the Prince’s London residence. Marksworth was on the watch for his intended, Miss Helen Ballingbrand. That was remarkable. The marquis actually seemed eager for her to arrive so he could introduce her.
The room teemed with elegantly gowned ladies and splendidly dressed gentlemen. Some stood in small groups chatting and laughing while others twirled and swept across the dance floor that was a mere stone’s throw away.
Tonight was the first time Lyon had ever been early to a champagne-toasting event and the infectious merriment of the crowd wasn’t the reason. Adeline was. He’d been telling his father that he wanted love before marriage almost since the day he entered Society. Now he had that. But it had to be real love both for him and for the lady he chose.
He should have told Adeline that afternoon in her drawing room that he loved her before he asked her to marry him, but he wasn’t sure that would have made a difference. And he wasn’t sure he’d realized it himself until after he left. Love was the reason he wouldn’t agree to the kind of relationship she was asking for. That wasn’t the way to treat the lady he loved. Her feelings for him wasn’t the problem.
It was marriage she was rejecting. Not him.
Lyon had no doubts that Adeline was the lady he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Within moments of seeing her the fateful night they met, he’d known he was attracted to her, to her courage to stand up to him, her boldness in striking him. His attraction to her was fast and hot from the beginning. She’d tempted him, challenged him, and angered him that night. And she continued to do so. She was brave, caring, generous, and so passionate he ached to be with her again. She satisfied him. Completed him. And he believed she felt all those things about him, too.
But she wasn’t willing to marry him.
She had deep hurts that haunted her. He’d seen glimpses of them. But she was so damn good at hiding her emotions most of the time that they weren’t easy to detect. Her husband had obviously limited her freedoms. What else had happened in her marriage that kept her out of Society? An ailment? A fondness for drink that she hadn’t been able to control for a time? Whatever it was, did it now keep her from committing to him?
He couldn’t press her to tell him until he knew she was ready to face her past herself.
It had been almost a week since he’d seen her. That made for a difficult week. It would have been so easy to send over a note and tell her he’d be over after her housekeeper’s light went out. She’d made it clear that was what she wanted. An occasional lover. Lyon had scoffed at the idea. Just the thought of it had made him angry. Yet, he’d lost count of the times he’d written the note, thinking to accept her offer, her affection the way she wanted him to. As a lover. But no. All of the notes had been thrown into the fire and never sent.
He wouldn’t give in to a life he didn’t want for her or himself. He might be an impatient brute but he was a man of honor and he couldn’t bend to her will in a matter as important as this.
There was another reason he’d wanted to be at the ball when Adeline arrived. He had assured her no one would dare say anything to her about her impromptu visit to his home. Regardless of his aunt’s believable fib to Mrs. Feversham, the problem was, Lyon hadn’t completely convinced himself. Society was fickle as a whole, though they prided themselves on being stable and consistent. Because the gentlemen of the ton had reasons of their own for not wanting to besmirch Lady Wake’s reputation, he hoped the ladies of the ton would follow their lead.
However, it was best he be available when she arrived in case a toffee-nosed matron decided to take her to task over one of her assumed transgressions. It wasn’t that Lyon didn’t think Adeline could handle herself if rebuked by one of the formidable ladies of the ton. He had first-hand knowledge of just how strong and capable she was. And he’d have to let her do it alone, just as he’d remained quiet and let her have her say to his gaming club that afternoon in his home. But then, she’d need someone to talk to.
That would be him.
He would have to fight Lady Kitson Fairbright and Mrs. Brina Feld to do it. They had shown him they would take up arms for Adeline the afternoon he took the tarts over to her house. As soon as they saw him, they each rose to stand slightly in front of her so he’d know she wasn’t alone. He didn’t mind. They were true friends, but Lyon was now her protector. They would have to step out of that role.
Adeline was his to defend now.
He wanted to see her. Wanted her to see him watching for her. Letting her be herself at the ball without hindrance from him but all the while reminding her he was there and the only man for her. Pursuing a lady in earnest was a new way of life for him and he was still getting used to it. He’d always assumed that whenever he fell in love, the lady would consequentially fall in love with him. That she didn’t want to marry surprised him, and had angered him for a time. Now he was resolute in making her change her mind. One thing he was certain of, she wasn’t ready for him to go charging over to her door with flowers and another proposal of marriage.
Not yet.
But she would.
That he’d been the first man to touch her since her husband’s death was further evidence they were meant to be together. Two years had been ample time for her to find comfort in the arms of a man. Something had held her back. He felt certain it wasn’t lack of offers, and he had no doubts there would be others who would vie for her favors until he could publicly claim her heart and her hand.
Something had happened in her marriage. Something that disturbed her so greatly she didn’t want to consider marriage again. Maybe it was just her lack of freedom to do the things she wanted. She didn’t know him well enough to know he wouldn’t take that away from her? He wanted her just the way she was. Every self-confident, passionate inch of her.
Lyon scoffed a short laugh to himself. Ah, but it appeared Adeline was demanding of him the one thing that was hardest for him to do. Be patient. So he would wait until she realized she wanted him for a husband—not just as a lover. It was damn difficult for a man who didn’t usually have to work for what he wanted.
For her, he was willing.
There was no reason for Lyon and his father to move from their ideal position near the entrance and mill through the crushing crowd. Other gentlemen were quite willing to make the trek over to them in order to have a moment or two of the marquis’ time.
Lyon and his father had their differences, but Lyon loved him. He was one of the most respected and approachable members of the peerage. Patience and intelligence concerning matters people brought to his attention encouraged his popularity. He was genuinely fond of most everyone and was always willing to listen to their questions, arguments, stories, or rants no matter how unimportant they seemed to him or others.
Not so for his son. Lyon had never found it within himself to be as forbearing as Marksworth with people who wanted a favor, an introduction, or to just be seen with a man who wore a title along with his name.
“Good evening, Marksworth, Lyon.”
Lyon shifted restlessly. Annoyance shuddered through him at the voice but he and his father turned and acknowledged Viscount Thurston with polite greetings and exchanged pleasantries about the celebratory ball. Because the viscount was a member of Lyon’s gaming club, he knew Thurston to be a fair gentleman in all his business dealings and treatment of others. He was good with a bow and a pistol, and a blade. He could handle a horse better than most. The two got along amicably, and the man had visited at Lyonwood a time or two. Lyon hadn’t disliked the viscount until he’d shown an interest in Adeline. He couldn’t blame the man for that,
but Lyon now saw him as an adversary.
“I wanted to ask a favor of you, Lyon,” Thurston said.
“What’s that?” he answered, though he knew exactly what the viscount wanted.
“I was hoping you’d introduce me to Lady Wake tonight. I understand she’s going to be here.”
“Unless you find someone else who can do it,” Lyon answered, seemingly uninterested, when truthfully the thought of her smiling at Thurston had Lyon tight as a violin string. It would be a cold day in Hades before he’d introduce the viscount or any other man to Adeline. He had no intention of helping another man pursue her.
“I’m not sure how many people remember her or have been formally introduced to her. I dare say not many are as familiar with her as you seem to be”—he smiled—“with her being such a close neighbor.”
Lyon’s hand tightened on his champagne glass as his eyes narrowed. If Thurston was trying to rile him, he was successful. “You dare say?” he repeated the viscount’s words, feeling the string about to snap.
“I’ll do it for you, Thurston,” Marksworth said in an easy tone that took the matter at hand away from both men. “Be happy to as soon as she arrives. I’ll find you and do the honors.”
“Thank you,” Thurston said with a nod, noting that the marquis was dismissing him as well as humoring him. “Very kind of you. I’ll look forward to it.” He gave another nod to Lyon and walked away.
Certain his expression hadn’t changed, Lyon looked at his father. “I thought we agreed you stopped speaking for me when you sent me off to Oxford.”
His father clapped him once on the back gingerly. “I’d never do such a foolish thing. A father never ceases to come to his son’s aid. You were about to give away every card you had in your hand. Next time you might want to look at them before you start laying them down. I don’t think you are holding a fist full of aces when it comes to the countess.”
