Lowering her head slightly as though embarrassed, she looked up at him through her long sooty lashes. “Hardly.”
He couldn’t help but think that suffering through a lack of acceptance in her youth made her more tolerant of others now. “If I’m to replace you, it seems I’d benefit most from sitting in your circle.”
Before she could respond, footsteps caught their attention. A woman crossed the threshold and staggered to a stop at the sight of him. Her cheeks flamed such an intense red that he was surprised they didn’t ignite.
“Good evening, Mrs. Bennett,” Miss Trewlove said. “I believe you know Mr. Sommersby. He’s considering assisting Mr. Tittlefitz on the evenings when I’m not available.”
His maid-of-all-work gave a little bob of a curtsy. “Mr. Sommersby, sir.”
“Mrs. Bennett, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“She’s one of our best students,” Miss Trewlove said.
He’d thought it impossible for her face to flare any redder, but it did, and with slowly dawning awareness, he realized she was mortified he knew she came here. He also now understood why she hadn’t left him a note to alert him that Miss Trewlove had paid a call. She couldn’t write. “I’ve no doubt of that whatsoever.”
Mrs. Bennett held up her primer, a bit frayed at the corners, the spine bent. “’Tis a gift to be able to read.”
“One that is easily shared,” Miss Trewlove assured her. “I daresay, Mrs. Bennett, you’ll be teaching before too long.”
“Ah, I’m not there yet. But soon, hopefully. My husband can read but hasn’t the patience to teach me.”
“I suspect he’s worn-out at the end of the day after giving most of his patience to his workers at the construction site,” he said. “But your efforts are commendable, Mrs. Bennett. Learning a new skill, any skill, is always a challenge.”
The blush in her cheeks began fading. She seemed truly grateful for his words. He’d complimented numerous ladies, but the praise had always been flirtatious, light and teasing, and women had taken the admiration as their due.
“Get settled and we’ll begin work shortly,” Miss Trewlove said.
With a duck of her head, Mrs. Bennett scuttled past Matthew. How did she follow a recipe book? She couldn’t. Her only choice was to cook whatever her mother or a relation or a friend had taught her, remembering every ingredient, every measurement. He couldn’t help but be impressed that she managed not only her household but his. “She was embarrassed by my presence,” he said quietly.
“People fear being mocked, berated, or belittled for not possessing skills that others take for granted.”
“You give them pride.”
“We give them the ability to read. Within these walls we provide a place where they are not judged. Some people learn quickly, others not so fast. We make sure they never feel ashamed—even if they don’t master the skill.”
“And if I’m like her husband and haven’t the patience for it?”
She smiled softly. “Then I’ll have misjudged you.”
She hadn’t. Not if his enthralled attention was any indication.
Another new student arrived. Based on his wariness as he studied his surroundings like a trapped animal searching for an escape, she suspected he was recently released from prison. In which case, her brother Finn had sent him. Although it had been years since he’d been incarcerated, he tended to offer help to those who needed it when they were set free. He joined Mr. Tittlefitz’s group.
Three more current students—two men and a woman—joined her circle. They took turns reading aloud, the others following the story along in their primers. When one of them blundered, she’d gently nudge the lady or gent toward the correct word, helping to sound it out. Although on a couple of occasions, she’d lost her place and stumbled, and Mr. Sommersby had been the one to assist her. It was disconcerting having him so near, sitting beside her, facing the students.
Her lungs were filled with his scent of bay rum. He looked so splendidly handsome in a navy jacket and trousers, gray waistcoat, snowy white shirt, and perfectly knotted cravat. Her gaze kept wandering over to him, and every so often, his would glide over to clash against hers. Her cheeks would warm as she turned her attention back to the task at hand. She couldn’t help but believe that something was shifting between them and could only hope it wasn’t unwise to find excuses to have him near.
An hour in, several footmen from the hotel dining room paraded in, carrying small cakes, biscuits, and tea. She stood and clapped her hands. “Refreshments have arrived. We’ll take a short break now.”
As people scattered, the footmen set their items on a table near the door and began serving.
“Your brother provides the food and drink, I assume,” Mr. Sommersby said quietly just over her shoulder, creating a tingle of pleasure that traversed along her spine with his nearness. It took every morsel of dignity she possessed not to back into him so his arms could encircle her as they had yesterday afternoon.
“Yes. I suspect the offering entices at least one of our students to return.” She faced him. “May I prepare you some tea?”
“No, thank you. After this, I’ll be headed for a glass of scotch.”
“Is it so awful?”
