Callie clutched the railing of theZephyrand gazed raptly at the broad swath of chalk cliffs ahead, a lump in her throat. “I’ve never seen the white cliffs before, but they’re so much a part of English lore that they say home to me. Did you ask Hawkins to return by this route so I could see the cliffs?”
“The white cliffs were one reason for coming this way,” her husband—husband!—said. “I like seeing them, too. But the Westerfield Academy is just off the Dover road, and it’s a good place to start making amends.”
Richard looped his arm around her shoulders, so she slid her arm around his waist with a happy sigh. They’d had the best honeymoon imaginable on this smooth, lovely voyage. Each day had been a little cooler as they headed north and east, but the notoriously chancy Atlantic had sent no storms. Though Hawkins’s bed wasn’t as large as the one at the Indian Queen Hotel, it had beenentirelysatisfactory.
“That was your last school, wasn’t it? You were still a student there when we eloped, and of course you never went back.” She glanced at him askance and saw his nod. She was briefly distracted by how lovely his blond hair looked in a brisk sea breeze.
Telling herself not to lose the thread of this discussion, she asked, “How badly did you behave at this particular school?”
He shifted uneasily. “Well, I didn’t try to burn the place down, but I was angry and uncooperative and often skipped classes. I was rude and sometimes a bully, though luckily such behavior was always stopped very quickly. I’m told by one of my London acquaintances that I’m considered Lady Agnes Westerfield’s one failure.”
She blinked. “That’s a distinction, but how could you be called that when you’re so lovely and reasonable?”
He chuckled and tightened his arm on her shoulders. “A lot of years have passed. Not only have I changed, but you bring out the best in me, Catkin. I’m still quite capable of being an appalling person.”
She thought of how terrifying he’d looked when he’d thundered up to her burning house, and decided she’d allow his point. “I look forward to meeting Lady Agnes. If she tries to beat you, I’ll fend her off.”
“I don’t expect she will. She was a remarkably patient woman.” After a long pause, he said, “I’m not looking forward to seeing her again. But it seems the right thing to do.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Doing the right thing seems so boringly mature.”
“Don’t you want to try everything at least once?” she said teasingly. He laughed, but she was glad that she’d be at his side when he faced this piece of his past.
* * *
The Westerfield Academy was a vast, rambling country house suitable to the daughter of a duke. As Gordon helped Callie from the coach he’d hired, he explained, “The house was part of Lady Agnes’s personal inheritance. She traveled all over the world when she was young. When she returned to England, she started the school to keep herself busy. I expect you know it’s for boys of good birth and bad behavior.”
“I laugh whenever I hear that.” Callie took his arm and they headed toward the entrance to the right wing. “But what does it mean in practice?”
“Her rather subversive goal is to help boys who don’t fit in learn to play the games of society without losing our souls.” He thought of his fellow students and how many of them had blossomed under her wise care. “She’s rather good at it, too.”
“It sounds like the perfect place for you.” Callie cocked an ear. “I presume the screams coming from behind the house are playing fields rather than a massacre?”
He knew she was trying to alleviate his nerves, but he couldn’t manage a smile. “Lady Agnes and her two partners are great believers in sport as a way of burning off youthful energy.” He rang the bell by the wide entrance door. “This wing is her personal living quarters. The rest of the house is the classrooms, and now there are living quarters behind for the boys. They were just starting to build them when I left.”
It was only a couple of minutes before an elderly butler with an imperturbable expression opened the door. He looked familiar, but Gordon couldn’t put a name to him. “Sir. Madam.” He gave the slight bow due expensively dressed strangers. “How may I assist you?”
“I’d like to see Lady Agnes if she’s available,” Gordon replied. “Tell her that the bad penny has returned.”
Not batting an eyelash, the butler ushered them inside to a small salon on the right. “I shall see if her ladyship is available.”
Callie settled calmly into a wing chair, but Gordon paced. He hoped Lady Agnes’s curiosity was piqued enough for her to see who was calling. She had treated him well, and he had not reciprocated. One would think he would be more comfortable with being in the wrong since he’d spent much of his youth in that state, but Lady Agnes was different. Her, he respected.
After about five minutes, a firm step could be heard and Lady Agnes swept into the salon. Tall and authoritative, she was not a woman who would be overlooked anywhere. There was more silver in her hair than when he’d been in school, but she looked otherwise ageless. “I wonder which bad penny might this be.”
Gordon moved into her line of sight and bowed, feeling the schoolboy fear of authority he’d always been good at concealing. “Lady Agnes.”
She stopped in the doorway, staring. “Lord George Audley! This is an unexpected pleasure.” Her gaze moved to Callie. “And this would be?”
Callie rose and smiled cheerfully. “Good day, Lady Agnes. I’m Mrs. Bad Penny. Or perhaps that should be Lady George Bad Penny.”
Lady Agnes laughed and called over her shoulder, “Refreshments, please. I foresee a long and interesting visit with the Bad Pennies.”
She waved them to be seated, but Gordon remained standing. “Perhaps your memory is deficient, Lady Agnes. I’m told I’m considered your one failure, and I’ve come rather belatedly to apologize.”
“There is nothing wrong with my memory.” The headmistress subsided on the sofa in a flurry of skirts. “Sit down, my boy. Where did you hear that you were allegedly my one failure?Inever said such a thing.”
Reluctantly smiling at her calling him a boy, he chose a chair where he could see both women clearly. “I heard as much from some old schoolmates I met in London recently. None of them seemed inclined to dispute the description.”
Lady Agnes sighed. “You were certainly one of the more challenging students I’ve taken on. When you arrived here, you were like a puppy that has been beaten so often that he trusts no one. All you knew how to do was bite. Yet you seemed to be gradually improving while you were here. Was I wrong?”
