What was it about him that caused her knees to turn to jelly and butterflies to flutter around her chest? Priscilla tried to breathe evenly and found that just enough of his scent hovered in the air, teasing her nostrils.
This was absurd!
She wasn’t some giddy debutante, for heaven’s sake.
None of them spoke until sounds of hooves riding away drifted through the window. Chloe studied Priscilla suspiciously while Primm paced across the room.
“I’ll have a word with Coachman John this evening. He must be fully aware of the details of this holiday. I trust him to provide whatever assistance is necessary.
“I don’t like this, though. I don’t like it at all,” Primm added.
And yet Priscilla knew how much the school meant to this woman—a woman who was much more to all of them than a mere employer. A woman who was not quite like a mother but an older sister—or a favorite but stern aunt.
“Why did you open the school?” It was something Priscilla had never asked the headmistress before, but while undertaking this great deception, understanding Miss Primm’s passion better might help. Miss Primm was the daughter of a marquess, and truth be told, needn’t put herself through any of this. She could have instead lived a pampered life of respectability.
Were the headmistress’s reasons similar to her own? Was it a consolation for the loss of other dreams?
Primm huffed a short laugh. “Because I wanted to provide a place where girls can learn more than the proper technique of a good curtsey. Or make conversation that goes beyond fashion and the weather. So that young ladies might advance civilization by participating in science and medicine if they have the desire.” She smiled ironically. “But also so that I would always be in control of my own destiny.”
And she had been, for the most part—until Priscilla and Allison had walked in on Primm’s brother making love to Victoria.
Guilt struck Priscilla like a slap.
“I should never have allowed Allison to follow me back to your chamber. How easy would it have been for me to ensure the residence was vacant first?”
“This isn’t your fault, Miss Fellowes. None of it is fair to you.” Primm exhaled. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s my own. I should never have—” She shook her head. “Would haves and should haves won’t solve anything now.”
A surge of protectiveness rushed in to temper Pricilla’s guilt. “I’ll convince him to break the agreement, Miss Primm.” Priscilla would not allow Allison to ruin them. “By the time we’ve spent a fortnight together, I’ll be the last person on earth he’ll want to marry. I promise.”
Miss Primm nodded. “Just do your best. One doesn’t reach my age without learning there are some things we have no control of regardless of how badly we wish we did. Get a good night’s sleep so the two of you can leave at daybreak.” And with nothing more to say, she marched briskly out of the parlor.
Chloe, however, was still watching Priscilla. “I appreciate your confidence, Prissy. But if you’re going to convince him, you’re going to have to convince yourself first.”
“That he doesn’t want to marry me?”
“That you don’t want to marry him.”
“Why would you think that?” she protested.
“Because of the way you look at him. Primm may be too distracted to notice, but I am not. And, unfortunately, I don’t think he is either. That man wants you.”
Priscilla bit her lip. “You’re imagining things.”
But when she returned to her chamber, she realized she was going to have to practice looking disdainful. Because mooning over Lord Hardwood wasn’t going to help matters.
No, it wouldn’t help them at all.
Not Quite a Holiday
“Oh, but it’s good to be back!” Miss Beatrice Walcott, teacher of Composition and Literature, bounded into the room and dropped her carpetbag at the foot of her bed. After fumbling with the knot of her bonnet, she tugged it off her head and tossed it onto her bed.
“How was your journey?” Priscilla set her notebook aside and, for the moment, her troubles as well, to greet the last of her colleagues returning following the Christmas holidays.
Miss Walcott taught her students with almost extravagant enthusiasm, and although she was usually outgoing, she hadn’t ever shared much of her personal life. When she’d arrived two years before, she’d been assigned to the fourth bed in the living quarters Priscilla shared with Chloe and Addy.
“Long, as usual.” Beatrice made quick work on the buttons of her warn coat and then glanced around. “Is it true, then?”
“Is what true?” Priscilla’s smile fell.
