Too close.
If she was going to enjoy a long teaching career, she best be far more diligent about who she wandered off alone with.
And that sinking feeling inside of her was not regret. It most certainly was not.
It was relief.
Honor
Addison clenched his fists at his sides as Miss Shipley promised for the umpteenth time that she’d have the entire school inspected beginning that very afternoon.
“I am terribly sorry, Your Grace. It won’t happen again. You have my word.” The pleasant-looking blonde woman seemed to be regaining her composure. “Are you quite sure you won’t stay for the evening. We’d be honored if you would remain as our special guest for dinner?”
The headmistress’s assistant was something of an anomaly in this school. As the daughter of a viscount, she ought to be married and reigning over her own home and children rather than dozens of other people’s daughters.
“I am certain.” He would return to the privacy of his chamber at the inn. “I’ll wish my sister goodbye in the morning.”
“But of course, Your Grace.” Her smile was proper and her countenance precisely as it ought to be.
She could not be more different than Miss Jones, who, after making a hasty escape, weighed heavily on his conscience.
Stepping outside the school’s front door and surmising he had an hour of remaining sunlight, Addison chose to walk the mile or so into the nearby village of Warstone Crossing, sending his carriage ahead. On those occasions when he experienced one of his episodes, fresh air was the most effective at resolving any residual feelings of being trapped.
Hell and damnation, he’d kissed her.
The only explanation he could make for himself was that he’d been out of his mind, and there had been something about her that had kept him grounded.
A shudder of shame ran through him as he recalled the utter lack of control and lack of dignity he’d exhibited. His father would be turning in his grave.
A deep breath and he catalogued the early autumn scents of the meadows around him. One would wonder at any sane person who enjoyed the faint scent of manure woven together with fresh green cuttings and the decay of early falling leaves.
It wasn’t as alluring as Miss Jones’ sweet vanilla scent, but neither was it as troublesome.
He would speak with her in the morning before bidding Fiona goodbye. No doubt, the teacher was certain that fleeing had eliminated the need for him to remedy what had happened.
It had not.
Because even though they had gone undiscovered, pretending it had not happened did not preclude the fact that he, a bachelor, had been alone with an unmarried lady of some gentility for over an hour. Or that he’d kissed her.
By the time he’d arrived at the small inn, he’d examined the situation from several different angles and, most unfortunately, arrived at the same conclusion every time.
He most assuredly had not seen the last of Miss Jones.
* * *
“I could not help noticing,Miss Jones, that you were not on hand when tea service commenced. Your absence left the other teachers shorthanded. Would you care to explain?” Miss Primm stared at Collette over her spectacles with pinched lips.
Collette inhaled. When she’d not been called into the headmistress’s office the evening before, she’d lain in bed conjuring a response in the event she was summoned come morning.
And so, ready with her explanation, she took a deep breath and did her best to appear uncomfortable and apologetic. “I… I… Something I ate did not set well with me. Unfortunately, I was quite indisposed for some time. I am very sorry, Miss Primm. I felt horrible to not uphold my duties—especially on such an important day. But there was nothing I could do…” She intentionally allowed her voice to trail off before peeking up at the stern headmistress.
Augusta Primm’s steely gray eyes bore into Collette as the woman considered her explanation. Fighting the urge to squirm under such intense regard, Collette forced herself not to look away. Doing that would be a sure way to indicate she was dissembling.
“I simply wondered because, as I’m sure you know by now, Lady Fiona’s brother, the Duke of Bedwell, was locked in the back stairwell. It was most unfortunate, and we are lucky he has not terminated his sister’s enrollment.” Miss Primm tilted her head questioningly. “You did not overhear him calling for assistance?”
Do not waver.
“I did not. Even if I had, indisposed as I was, I could have done nothing to assist him.” She winced. It really was an atrocious confession to make, even when one was lying about it.
