“Because of your dimples,” Chloe filled in with twinkling eyes.
The headmistress shot Chloe a disapproving scowl and then somberly turned back to meet Priscilla’s stare. “Miss Fellowes—Priscilla. Despite our dire circumstances, I want to make it clear that you do not have to do this. Your job is not dependent on pulling this off.”
But if there were no school, there would be no job—for any of them! They were a small group of women managing dozens of impressionable young ladies and, as a result, had formed an unusual bond—steeped in loyalty. These women and her students were her family—in ways that her mother, brothers, and sister-in-law could never be.
Furthermore, Victoria held a special place in Priscilla’s heart. She had once nearly married into Priscilla’s family until Priscilla’s brother had jilted her. And while working at Miss Primm’s, the new countess had done more than her fair share to better the school.
It was Priscilla’s duty to do her part as well.
But most of all, because Primm had taken a chance on Priscilla when no one else would.
“I’ll do it.” Priscilla nodded. “Besides, it’s only one meeting. Right?”
Three hours later, Priscilla sat in that same room, in the center of the settee this time, wishing she’d not been so accommodating.
Miss Addy had fussed over her for what felt like hours, pinning Priscilla’s long dark hair atop her head in ridiculous ringlets. But the gown she wore was even worse. The pastel pink taffeta resembled strawberry frosting, and the layers of lace positively screamed ‘debutante.’
“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” Priscilla dusted a smudge of flour off her skirt.
After being fussed over and schooled in all matters Allison, Priscilla had mixed together some batter for biscuits. Working in the kitchen had been the only way to keep her nervousness at bay. “Tell Jenny not to forget about my cookies.”
“She won’t,” Victoria answered.
Chloe stepped back and studied Priscilla, twisting a stray lock of hair around her finger. “The gown is necessary. It’s not as though you wish to attract him. And it’s obvious you’re nervous, but that works in your favor as well. Any young woman would be anxious to refuse the suitor her father selected for her. Most would think she was rejecting an opportunity of a lifetime.”
“For a footman!” Addy exclaimed and then pulled a small bar of chocolate out of her pocket to take a nibble.
In an unexpected revelation, Priscilla suddenly understood why Allison hadn’t wanted to meet with the man. Priscilla pushed her shoulders back and mentally went through the excuses she and her fellow teachers had trumped up.
I’m not prepared to leave my father’s home. I don’t want children. And if both those excuses failed, she would tell him that she suffered from megrims. She was to indicate in the most delicate way that she doubted her ability to provide him with children.
That concern ought to be enough to repel any titled gentleman.
Chloe leaned forward to study Priscilla. “Try not to think so much. You look too intelligent.”
Priscilla scowled and then attempted a vacant stare. “Like this?”
“Um… perhaps not.” Chloe shook her head.
The clock's gong signaled that he was due to arrive any minute, and Chloe took the seat to Priscilla’s right. Addy sat on her left.
Priscilla removed her handkerchief from her bodice and dried the palms of her hands.
“There he is now. He’s arriving on foot,” Victoria announced.
“That will make it more difficult for us to send him away, I suppose.” Addy reasoned. “It would not be polite to refuse him the opportunity to come inside and warm up.”
“It would not,” Priscilla parroted, her lips almost numb.
The four of them fell silent when the expected knock sounded. And when the fire in the hearth flickered, Priscilla guessed the door had been opened.
A muffled masculine voice filtered through the door, followed by the housekeeper’s. “Of course, they are waiting for you, my lord. Allow me to take your coat and hat.”
Miss Primm met Priscilla’s stare, and then Priscilla nodded as they listened to footsteps echo in the foyer.
“Breathe, Prissy.” Victoria leaned forward.
“Allison,” Chloe corrected her. “Dear God in heaven, Victoria, remember to address her as Miss Meadowbrook.”
