Addy had explained to Chloe and Priscilla that the meeting between father and daughter had resulted in a tearful confrontation. In a bout of wailing and dramatic threats, Allison had convinced Mr. Meadowbrook to allow her to remain enrolled at Miss Primm’s.
Apparently, the footman had been forgotten, replaced by one of the young men from Cambridge who occasionally visited Warstone Village.
Most importantly, with the problem of Lord Hardwood firmly in the past, Allison had promised she would keep Victoria and Lord Rosewood’s secret.
She’d seemed rather bored with it, really.
And while Priscilla and Chloe had been at the house party at Cliffhouse, Primm’s loan had been approved and work on the foundation was well underway.
The lying and scheming had not been for naught. Despite the humiliating end to their charade, Priscilla and Chloe had accomplished their intended goal.
All that aside, Priscilla had known what she needed to do. And when they’d arrived, she’d not allowed herself to get comfortable. She’d right off requested a meeting with Primm.
And offered her resignation.
“It’s for the best,” Priscilla had said. Her continued employment was no longer an option. The school needed to avoid scandals at all costs. Any association with her going forward would be detrimental.
Dear, stern Miss Primm, who had been like family to Priscilla for the past six years, had initially refused to accept it.
“Perhaps you haven’t had a chance to read this.” Priscilla had handed over the copy of the London Gazette she’d found in a shop when they’d stopped the night before.
She opened the newspaper to page three.
In the end, Miss Primm had wished her well.
Priscilla’s gaze fell on the newspaper, opened to the offensive article on the bench across from her.
Had her family seen it yet? Likely, they had.
Not only the headline but the entirety of the article would forever be imprinted in Priscilla’s memory.
SCHOOLTEACHER IMPERSONATES STUDENT
Lady Priscilla Fellowes, only daughter to the late Earl of Kingsley, has once again thrown herself headfirst into scandal and mayhem. Banished in disgrace six years ago following an aborted elopement resulting in her fiancé’s death, the impertinent young woman has been secretly teaching at Miss Primm’s Private Seminary for the Education of Ladies near Warstone Village not far from Cambridge.
Guests attending a winter house party thrown by the Countess of Hardwood report that Lady Priscilla posed as the daughter of industrial giant Morris Meadowbrook in an effort to claim her student’s betrothed, the Earl of Hardwood, for herself.
Lucky for the earl, his true intended’s father exposed the charade before any damage was incurred, and the imposter and her accomplice, also a teacher, were hastily ejected from the party.
It is this reporter’s opinion that Lady Priscilla’s judgment has proven beyond questionable. Might she be fit for Bedlam?
Priscilla had not expected the last part of the article.
Lifeless inside, she gathered the small dog into her arms and turned her head to stare out the window again. The last hundred or so yards gave her just enough time to gather her composure.
And yet she still found herself blinking away tears when the carriage drew up to the entrance.
When it rolled to a stop, despite the swirling winds and cool winter temperatures outside, a handful of people stood on the top of the steps watching. Servants, but also those who were dearest in the world to her.
Her brothers, her mother, and Olivia, her sister-in-law.
And before the outrider could hop off the back and make his way around, the door to the carriage was thrown open.
“We thought you might show up here.” Gabriel, his hair slightly longer than what was considered fashionable, but looking more handsome than ever, was not scowling at her, nor was he frowning. No, the corners of his mouth tipped up in that amused expression he’d given her more than once growing up. And it was his unconditional welcome that broke her.
When he reached inside to take her hand, Priscilla set Fiddlesticks onto the floor, burst into tears, and threw herself into his arms.
* * *
