Chapter One
LateAutumn,1862
The hazy stillness of the brisk autumn afternoon snuck in through the open window. It carried the scent of bonfires and ripe wheat and musty leaves. Jess’s students were gone for the day, and she exhaled in relief as she unbuttoned her collar, just a finger length, and lifted the coiled braid at her neck to let the cool air rush over her skin. Many of the farms were bringing in the last of the harvest, and she’d dismissed classes early so the older children could set their hands to the task alongside their parents.
Whenever Jess glimpsed the empty table in the corner of the school room she stiffened. The trays of specimens were still arranged into a tidy stack. The small notebooks she’d purchased for the students to record their observations were still lined up on the bookshelf. But the instrument that would ensure their first journey into the world of science was full of wonder, was missing.
The loss of her microscope six weeks ago had stolen her breath. It had felt like being cast off her moorings - the same feeling that had assailed her when she fell from the hayloft as a girl. The same untethered feeling that had assailed her when Arie had broken the news of their mother’s death. Her vision had blurred and her body had morphed into something weightless and desolate.
She’d been morose and nearly inconsolable for the first two weeks - until Davy Greene had shamefully confessed it was in his uncle’s study and he’d been the one who helped put it there.
Even as she’d fumed she’d reassured Davy she didn’t blame him for the trespass. She didn’t tell him what she thought of his uncle - that Cadoc Morgan’s wickedness had influenced him.
The man was a relative newcomer to the parish - he’d settled in Heathsted with his two sisters and his niece and nephew three years ago. His origins were murky, and he’d paid cash for the rundown Tudor manor on the outskirts of town. He’d hired an army of tradesmen to bring it back to its former glory, and by all accounts he was fair in his dealings and of a charming countenance.
He was much sought after by the unmarried women of the county. As far as Jess knew, he rebuffed all advances bent on matrimony and indulged instead in liaisons of a much more temporary state. Jess’s sister Vin was deliciously enthralled by gossip of his string of dalliances with merry widows.
His penchant for the widows, and the fact they’d never exchanged more than five words at a time, did not explain his larceny.
A fortnight ago, she’d finally found an opportunity to confront him about the theft. That was the first time she politely asked for the return of her most prized possession. When she’d threatened to go to the magistrate, he’d given her an inscrutable look andsaid he hadn’t yet decided what he’d demand in return. He’d then told her he had no intention of keeping it forever.
For the last She’d been relentlessly badgering him for an explanation. They’d been sparking back and forth like sputtering rushlights, but he hadn’t waivered in his resolve. He met every single one of her demands with an enigmatic grin.
When Jess heard boots on the steps beyond the open door, she hastily rebuttoned her collar. It wouldn’t do for any of the parents to see her in disarray.
“I’ll let you have it back. For a price.” The deep voice echoed in the empty schoolroom.
She knew he’d be lounging in the doorway when she turned. With a tousled, uncovered head of rich brown waves the color of coffee and eyes that were the outrageous shade of blue the sky assumed ahead of an impending storm.
She maintained her composure. So he was finally prepared to tell her exactly what the return would cost her. She had a suspicion that if he knew how badly she wanted her English Drum back, his price would morph into something truly astronomical. He was like one of the preening male dragonflies she was cataloging - arrogant in the knowledge of his radiance.
“Is it a price I can afford?” She asked as she worked the eraser over the chalkboard. She was pleased her voice didn’t betray the flutter of nerves in her stomach.
“That depends on whether your price is above rubies. How valuable is your virtue, Miss Wainwright?”
Jess prided herself on the fact she didn’t have a single tentative, retiring bone in her body when it came to advocating for her students. She’d assumed her position when the village school opened five years ago, and she was proud of how she’d designed the curriculum and convinced skeptical parents and itinerant students that an education beyond basic literacy was important. She was used to confronting gangly boys nearly astall as she was and emerging victorious. She had a knack for rendering them sheepish and penitent.
Despite her confidence in her abilities, something about Cadoc Morgan made her quake in her half-boots like she was facing down a fire-breathing dragon. He was too everything for her to absorb. Too broad, too tall, too maddening. His eyes too blue, his legs too long, his thighs too muscular. His presence took up all the space and air in a room when he entered it, and she preferred him in small doses, not languidly reclining against the wall like he had all the time in the world to beset her.
She should have known politely asking for the return of her microscope wouldn’t be the peaceful exchange she’d hoped for. Of course he’d turned it into a challenge that was an affront to her dignity. She slowly turned to face him.
“I’m certain I didn’t hear you correctly. Surely you jest.” She wanted to smack the erasers together under his nose and send him into a sneezing fit.
He crossed his arms over his chest and that insufferably alluring mouth curled into a wry grin. “I’m certain you did. And I assure you it was not a jest.”
She took a deep breath and brandished the chalk clasped in her hand like a sword. “So I won’t be able to retrieve the microscope unless I surrender my virtue in the biblical sense? That is the price I must pay?”
“From what I’ve observed you are unattached and unspoken for. If you accept my proposition, I will give you memories to last a lifetime.”
“The fact I am unattached does not excuse your audacity, sir. You won’t entice me to your lair. The ostracism I would suffer if such an arrangement were revealed is too high a risk.”
“My lair?” He asked as he raised a brow. He ignored the rest of her protest.
The raised brow seemed supercilious on his part, and Jess was too embarrassed to tell him she’d compared his tall lanky form to a skulking wolf. Her sisters had burst into laughter when she said she expected him to blow down the schoolhouse at any moment. Vin and Gert had laughed so hard, whisky erupted from their noses.
She waved the chalk in a dismissive gesture. “Your house.”
The wry grin made another appearance. And this time there was a flash of dimple in his right cheek. It made his face lopsided and far too appealing. “How badly do you want the microscope restored to your classroom, Miss Wainwright?”
