Hunt cleared his throat. “How is Little Fiddlesticks?”
“Perfectly fine, thanks to you,” Miss Meadowbrook answered. “And fast asleep in the kitchen by the stove.” But then she burst to her feet. “I took your jacket.”
“Which has already been returned to the Gray Swan,” Miss Primm supplied, gesturing for her student to retake her seat.
“My thanks,” Hunt answered. But that was the last thing for which he was grateful.
He’d expected Meadowbrook’s chit to be irreverent, spoiled, entitled, and… for some reason, he’d expected her to be blonde.
This young woman—the woman he would convince to marry him—was essentially the opposite of what he’d dreaded. Present ensemble notwithstanding, her eyes glowed with intelligence and charm. And he found himself appreciating the rich mahogany tones in her hair, which had been hiding under her hat when they’d met in the park. With her teachers so diligently looking on, Hunt dared not allow himself to stare at her mouth.
Only a few hours earlier, she had flirted with him.
She had looked disappointed when he’d taken his leave.
But even though these observations provided him with a surge of optimism, he tamped down his excitement. It would be foolish to claim victory until Miss Meadowbrook actually accepted his proposal.
The housekeeper who had greeted him upon his arrival chose that moment to return carrying a tray. Over the next twenty minutes or so, he endured a somewhat stilted conversation with the two teachers, the headmistress and Lady Rosewood.
Miss Meadowbrook kept noticeably quiet, but he caught her watching him more than once.
When he presumed he’d conversed for a polite amount of time, Hunt rubbed his hands together. “The biscuits were delicious, and I believe I’ve finally warmed up from the cold.” He turned to Miss Primm. “My thanks for the tea, but might I be allowed a few moments to speak privately with Miss Meadowbrook?”
More enigmatic glances shifted around the room of bluestockings, and then Miss Primm answered.
“Ten minutes,” she declared, her eyes narrowed.
Lady Rosewood arranged the empty cups on the tea tray and lifted it off the table while the other teachers rose reluctantly. Miss Fortune squeezed Miss Meadowbrook’s shoulder, and all four of them shuffled out of the room.
“This door will remain ajar.” Miss Primm held his gaze meaningfully.
“Of course.” Hunt hadn’t expected anything different.
Left alone with Miss Meadowbrook, Hunt waited until she lifted her dark gaze to his. He rose, abandoning his chair. “May I?” He indicated one of the vacated spaces beside her.
“Yes.” Her voice sounded breathy.
“You are nervous?” he asked.
“Are you?” she countered, staring back at him.
He would not dissemble with her. “Terribly.”
Her eyes widened.
“But I am also extraordinarily pleased.”
“You are?” She must know why he had come.
Rather than play games, Hunt nodded. “You know the reason for my visit.”
Her gaze shifted to the hearth, and she licked her lips. “Because you needed to finalize the sale of Longbow Castle to Lord Rosewood.”
“Yes. But I have come to the school to meet with you.”
Even when she frowned, her mouth tempted him.
“Because of my father,” she said.
