Victoria pinched her mouth together and scowled. “Breathe, Allison.”
Which made Priscilla aware that she was, in fact, holding her breath.
She exhaled a shuddering sigh and then gulped in some air.
“You’ll be fine.” Addy touched her shoulder. “You can do this.”
Priscilla nodded and then shifted her gaze to the door as it pushed inside. Although Primm and Victoria had assured her Lord Hardwood was not at all lecherous, she hadn’t quite succeeded in dispelling herself of the notion.
Primm rose, temporarily blocking Priscilla’s view.
“Lord Hardwood, may I present a few of my esteemed teachers? Miss Fortune teaches philosophy and dance, and Miss Addy is our math and sciences teacher. And you know Lady Rosewood already.”
Primm stepped back to allow the man to enter. “But of course, you have come to acquaint yourself with one of our students—Miss Allison Meadowbrook.”
Priscilla’s heart stopped.
The man wasn’t a stranger at all. Not in the sense she’d expected.
“It’s you,” she said, momentarily forgetting her nerves.
“Miss Meadowbrook?” He tilted his head, giving her the same surprised look he had when she’d told him Fiddlesticks’ name. “You are Miss Meadowbrook?”
Priscilla inhaled and then rose from the settee and offered him her hand. “I am.”
A weightless relief ebbed through him—a sensation he’d not experienced since before his father’s death, not quite a year ago.
My damsel is Miss Meadowbrook!
Staring into eyes he hadn’t expected to see again, he took her hand in his and bowed low. Not quite believing his good luck, he brushed his lips across the back of her lace-covered wrist.
“Won’t you sit down?” Miss Primm, whom he’d met on his initial visit, indicated a wooden chair adjacent to the settee where Miss Meadowbrook sat flanked by two of her teachers.
“Thank you.” But he didn’t accept the invitation right away.
She had changed her hair into the ringlets for which most debutantes were notorious. And her dress had been fashioned to resemble an elaborately decorated frosted confection.
But he was not mistaken. It was her. And her eyes held the same intelligence he’d noticed earlier.
Since he couldn’t stand gawking at her all day, he mentally shook off his wonder and availed himself of the seat he was offered.
“The two of you know one another?” The school headmistress appeared more than a little concerned.
“He is the gentleman who saved Fiddlesticks earlier this afternoon,” Miss Meadowbrook explained in the dulcet voice he remembered.
As though attached to the same string, all eyes in the room shifted to him.
“How… very heroic of you,” Lady Rosewood murmured.
Miss Meadowbrook dropped her gaze to her lap, where her gloved fingers clasped together.
“It was nothing.” Hunt dismissed the compliment.
His modesty, however, caused Miss Meadowbrook to jerk her head up. “Oh, but it was! If he had not come along, Fiddlesticks would be at the bottom of the lake.” But would he? Hunt wondered. He’d sensed that she would have gone in to save the dog herself if he’d not appeared when he had.
“His arrival, then, was quite serendipitous,” one of the other teachers declared.
But then the ladies fell into an uncomfortable silence and glanced between one another.
