…a lot riding on a schoolgirl’s whim.
…she’s also a woman…
… formulate an alternate strategy…
Hunt straightened his shoulders and sounded the knocker three times. Girls like Allison Meadowbrook spent their entire lives dreaming of marrying into nobility. And it wasn’t as though Hunt was some octogenarian earl with warts on his nose. Even before graduating from Oxford, he’d often had to take measures to avoid ambitious debutantes and their mothers.
The door opened, and this time Hunt was greeted by the school director herself.
“Lord Hardwood.”
The woman’s demeanor was less welcoming than it had been on his previous visits. But, to be fair, he had refused to accept Miss Meadowbrook’s rejection. And although he would never, in fact, force an unwilling young woman to marry him, he had essentially threatened just that.
“Good morning, Miss Primm. Miss Meadowbrook is expecting me.” He resisted the urge to shuffle his feet as Miss Primm studied him. It was easy to see how this woman had come by her reputation as something of a dragon.
“She is,” she said with a nod, pivoting and expecting him to follow her. But when she opened the door to the parlor, apprehension struck to see that it was empty. Had Allison run away from him again?
“I’ll have a private word with you first,” Miss Primm said.
“Of course.” His heart returned to its normal pace.
“It isn’t every day one of our students receives an invitation such as yours—an invitation that will cause her to be absent from her studies.” Miss Primm’s words, no doubt, predicated a stern warning. “Please, sit down, my lord.” She gestured to the settee.
And yet, the school’s director remained standing, hands clasped behind her back.
This woman showed far more willingness to protect Miss Meadowbrook than her own father had. As a man with sisters of his own, Hunt couldn’t help but respect her for it.
Perhaps, when he was flush again, he could enroll the youngest of his sisters, Maddie and Cora, and maybe even Evie for a year or two. Unfortunately, at nine and ten and eight and ten, respectively, Eloise and Isadora had both already passed the age of such training.
At least the sale of Longbow would fund them each at least one season in London. They deserved so much more.
“I’ll expect Miss Meadowbrook to stay abreast of her studies.” Miss Primm stood ramrod straight.
“Of course,” Hunt agreed. “You have my word that she will be afforded the utmost of respect while under my protection.”
“If she agrees to your terms, I expect the same for her chaperone.”
“Absolutely.”
Miss Primm lowered her chin and sent him a menacing stare. “She is fully opposed to marrying, you know.”
“For the moment,” Hunt added.
“So long as you are aware of this.”
“Quite.”
“I expect you to honor your promise. If you fail to win her consent by the conclusion of your mother’s house party, you will break your agreement with Mr. Meadowbrook.”
This was not the warning he had expected.
He nodded. She didn’t need to know that failure was not an option. “You have my word.”
If this woman believed she was diminishing his motivation in her warnings, she was mistaken. He’d do whatever the hell he needed to gain Allison’s acceptance.
“Very well. I will inform Miss Meadowbrook that you are here.” She pivoted and then turned for the door. But before stepping outside, she glanced back at him once more. “I do hope, my lord, that you have an alternate prescription for your current situation.”
Hunt merely chuckled.
