“I do not know about brave,” she said, raising her eyes to his at last. “I think it only right. The poor should haveas much right as we to an education.”
He inclined his head. “And do you find that the boys learn easily?” he asked..
Rebecca felt irritated. The school was too important to her to become the topic of a polite conversation. What didhe care about the school or about the boys? “Probably aseasily as any boys anywhere,” she said. “Those at Eton,for example.”
He raised his eyebrows, and she was annoyed to see that he looked amused for a moment. “I am glad you feelstrongly about it,” he said. “But then I might have expected it. You always did feel passionately about theunfairness of class distinctions, I remember.”
Rebecca stared back, unable to look away from those blue eyes, and unable to think of anything to say in reply.
“Mr. Sinclair would like to visit the school one day, Rebecca,” Philip said. “I have suggested that he cometomorrow.”
“No!” Rebecca said sharply. “Tomorrow is my day, Philip. I am sure Mr. Sinclair would far prefer to see youteach. You are more competent than I.”
“I should like to be free to show him around,” Philip said. “It really would be more convenient if you would dothe teaching.”
Rebecca looked back in dismay to Christopher. What right did he have to interfere with her activities this way?Was it such a great curiosity, a novel amusement, to beable to watch a village school in operation? She hated himfor a moment.
“You will not be nervous, will you, Miss Shaw?” he asked. “I really am not a severe critic, you know. I amfull of admiration for your efforts.”
He had said something very similar to Harriet after she walked across the wall of the bridge, Rebecca thoughtindignantly.
She lifted her chin. “I shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow, sir,” she said.
Philip’s attention had strayed several times in the direction of the river. “Lady Holmes was very foolish to wear such thin slippers,” he said at last. “The stones near theriver are quite loose and jagged. How foolish some females are to sacrifice good sense and comfort to fashion.”
“But one must admit that she looks most charming,” Christopher added, also looking at Maude, who was standing alone at the river’s edge looking down into the water.“She has learned, you see, that greens look quite stunning on redheaded ladies.”
“She needs someone’s arm to lean on,” Philip said irritably, “before one of those stones cuts through a slipper and lames her.”
Christopher grinned. “I don’t believe we can expect her husband to walk that far,” he said, lowering his voice. “Itlooks as if you will have to play the gallant, Everett.”
Philip hesitated but finally got to his feet and strode across the grass to the stones that bordered the riverbank,his back registering anger. Maude turned hastily when hedrew close, and even at the distance from which sheviewed them, Rebecca could see that she flushed as shelooked up into his stern face. Poor Maude! She admiredPhilip, but she seemed to sense that he disapproved of her.She seemed almost afraid of him.
“Is your fiancé always so humorless, Becky?” Christopher asked quietly, and Rebecca turned back to him with a start, realizing suddenly that they were almost alone, setapart from any of the other groups.
“Humorless?” she repeated. “You mean that he is not constantly laughing and joking? I think such behaviorwould be inappropriate in a vicar, don’t you?”
He did not answer immediately but regarded her with a half smile. “You are very much on the defensive,” hesaid. “Do you still hate me, Becky? Have I not beenforgiven?”
She looked back at him, her jaw clenched. “I really don’t know what you are talking about,” she said. “Whatreason do I have for being angry with you?”
He smiled, his mouth a little twisted. “No,” he said, answering his own question, “I can see I have not. I didnot expect to be. I cannot blame you, Becky. Ah, I seethat finally Mama has signaled that it is time for the food.I thought she would never get to the point. Come. Let us go fill some plates.”
He got to his feet and held out a hand to help Rebecca to hers. She could not refuse without being publicly rude tohim. But it was an ordeal worse than any she had yet experienced in the days since she heard he was cominghome. To see him and to hear him was bad enough. Totouch him was unendurable—that slim yet surprisinglystrong hand that had so often held hers in the past, so oftentouched and caressed her.
Rebecca snatched her hand from his as soon as she was on her feet, hoping that her blush was not as noticeable asit felt. Had she looked at him, she would have seen that alltraces of his smile had disappeared and that the new set tohis jaw, which she had noticed during their first meeting,was very apparent. But she did not look up. She walkedhastily over to the open picnic baskets, helped herself tofood without even considering what it was she took, andseated herself right in the middle of the noisy group thatincluded Ellen, Primrose, Julian, Mr. Bartlett, and Harriet.
Rebecca had hoped that Christopher would come on his curiosity visit to the school early in the morning. Shewanted the ordeal over with. She had had a very disturbednight, lying awake and tossing and turning for what seemedto be hours and then dreaming so vividly that she feltafterward that she might as well have lain awake all night.
It felt so strange to see Christopher again, to move in the same circles as he yet to feel uncomfortable. They hadalways been friends, even when they were children and hisfriendly feelings had been displayed largely through practical jokes. They had always been comfortable together. Shecould hardly bear to be in his company now and to feel astranger. She had never really known him, of course. TheChristopher she had thought she knew could never havebroken all his promises to her in order to marry a strangerfor her money. And that Christopher could not have neglected his wife and cruelly flaunted his mistresses beforeher.
Now, since his return, she was very much aware that she did not know him. She no longer felt, as she used to,that just by looking at him she knew what he thought andhow he felt. Now looking at him was rather like looking at a shield. She did not know how he felt about being home;she did not know what his attitude toward Harriet was; shedid not know if he felt contempt, regret, amusement, orsheer indifference for herself. And she had no idea of whyhe would wish to give up a morning of his time to watchuntutored boys learn their lessons. Was he trying to impress Philip? Her?
There was another reason why she wanted him to come early. She usually began the day with arithmetic, havingfound that the boys’ minds could handle numbers bestwhen they were fresh. And all of the boys were progressing satisfactorily in that subject. Even Cyril could excel,since there was no reading involved. He was, in fact, oneof her best pupils in mathematics. Being slow and meticulous, he was less likely than the others to make carelessmistakes.
But the lesson in multiplication passed, and they had turned to their reading books before Philip finally pushedopen the door and stood aside to let Christopher pass.Rebecca immediately felt herself flush. She curtsied, andthen wished she had not done so. She felt very much like alowly servant paying homage to a grand gentleman. Helooked remarkably fine in buff riding breeches and olive-green superfine riding coat, snowy-white neckcloth arranged in intricate folds, black topboots still spotless andshiny after the ride from home.
He and Philip wandered to the back of the room and Rebecca resumed the lesson. The boys’ reading abilitiesseemed even less competent than usual. She guessed thatthey were feeling self-conscious. She was constantly awarethat Cyril’s turn to read could not be ignored, though shedid for a moment consider deliberately forgetting him.
