“No. Sit, wait, be patient.”
Being patient was not Bea’s strongest suit, but she managed it until she heard footsteps outside the door and then the door being opened. She shot across to intercept Hobbs and Bertram before they had even crossed the threshold.
“There you are, Bertram! I thought you were never coming!”
He looked startled. “But I am not late… am I?”
“No, not at all, but the morning has been interminable. I cannot wait to get started. Come and see what Papa has done. He has arranged everything so neatly. I have my own desk, look!”
She towed Bertram across the room. He laughed, and said to Papa, “Good morning, sir. Pray forgive me for not bowing but you see how it is.”
“I do indeed. Your pupil is keen to begin, and let us not hinder her learning by such trivial matters as the conventions of polite society.”
“Oh, Papa! Must I pretend not to be excited?”
But it was Bertram who said, “Miss Franklyn, you and pretence are strangers, and long may it remain so. If I may disengage my arm for a moment, I have something for you.”
“Books? Have you brought me some books?”
“I have and one in particular. May it bring you great pleasure.”
Released from her grip, he opened his bag and pulled out a small parcel, neatly bound up in ribbon-tied cloth, and handed it over with a little bow.
Unwrapping it, she exclaimed in wonder. “My primer! You have brought my primer from Landerby.”
“I should have given it to you the instant you were permitted to take up your lessons again, but it was at the very bottom of my box. I did not expect to be able to present it to you quite so soon.”
“But it is the duke’s. I cannot keep it.”
“Read the inscription.”
Opening the cover, she read the words,‘To Miss Beatrice Franklyn. May this volume bring her great pleasure, so that in the future she may regale her friends at Landerby with many more magnificent recitals and join in the learned discussions. Wedhampton.’
“How kind,” she breathed, trying very hard to banish the tears that lurked close to the surface. “How very, very kind of his grace. And how kind ofyou, Bertram, to think of it.”
“Well now, we cannot have you separated from your primer, can we? I thought we might continue where we left off, with pronouns and questions, and then I have a piece to dictate to you, so that you may practise writing in Latin, and another piece for you to read for discussion purposes. If Mr Franklyn permits?”
“You are her tutor, Atherton,” Papa said. “I am going to work on my accounts over here, and you may sit opposite Bea. You have precisely one hour, and if I see or hear or even suspect the least impropriety between the two of you, these lessons terminate immediately. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, Papa.”
Bea sat down, opened her primer and the lesson began.
25: News From Corland
Bertram wandered into his father’s study one morning. His father was writing a letter, but he willingly broke off from the task.
“You are sending Morton off to find Whyte, I hear,” Bertram said.
“Yes. I am just writing to this Edgerton fellow to let him know the boy is missing.”
“But you cannot think that Whyte is involved in Nicholson’s murder?” Bertram said. “We know he was here on the night it happened.”
“Do we? And even if Whyte himself were innocently tucked up in his bed, he has brothers and cousins and friends enough who could have acted on his behalf. Running away, if that is what he has done, proclaims his guilt loudly enough. Edgerton will want to know, and he can decide what to do about it.”
Bertram said no more, ambling about the room and idly polishing his spectacles as his father returned to his letter. Whenit was sanded and folded and sealed, however, he turned to look at Bertram curiously.
