“He only shows up during calling hours, Mr. Spencer. Thank you for your worry, but—”
“He’s here!” Mrs. Barkley screamed from the hallway in the loudest of tones, transforming the milling group of artists into statues. “The gargoyle’s here! Knocking on the door right now!”
What in heaven’s…? She sighed. He never did ask permission. Just dropped by whenever he pleased. And what could she do? Deny entrance to the man whose brother owned her house? Made her want to stomp his foot. While wearing spiked boots.
Mr. Spencer gulped. “See. What did I say? He’s not just a nuisance, he’s a danger to you.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Spencer,” Cordelia whispered. “Now out the window with you.”
“Pardon me?” he hissed.
“Out the window with all of you!”
They grumbled, but they complied. Not quickly enough, though. She heard Mrs. Barkley and a man arguing in the hall. Blessed Barkley, distracting him so they could escape.
“Hurry, hurry!” Cordelia pushed them toward the window, opened it, and nudged the first instructor, Mrs. Bellfry, over the edge and onto the street. Then Mr. Spencer and eight others.
“Thank goodness we’re on the ground floor.” Miss Williams sniffed as she sat on the window ledge and swung her legs over it.
“Do hurry,” Cordelia begged.
“I think you should just tell Lord Theodore. He may be able to help.”
“I’ll consider it.”
Bootsteps echoed outside the door. Hinges creaked. Cordelia’s heart gave up working at a normal pace and ran for its life about her body. He would catch Miss Williams.
Not if Cordelia could help it. She nudged the other woman. Just atinynudge. And the violin instructor went flying, her legs arching toward the sky, her gown falling toward the ground, her body making a softthunkagainst the grass, and—blast. The violin case still rested on the window. Cordelia chucked it.
And swung around to greet Lord Theodore, scowling in the doorframe. “Good afternoon, my lord. Have you come to ask me to be your mistress?”
His cheeks turned cherry, and his attention flew skyward. She heard a loud exhalation that almost resembled a whistle through clenched teeth. “Lady Cordelia, why did I just see a woman’s legs and a violin case fly past that window?”
She pulled the curtains closed and waltzed toward him. “I’ve no idea. Perhaps you should speak with a doctor about it. Now, since you’ve not addressed my question, should I take that as a positive answer?” She winked.
His cherry cheeks burned a deeper rose shade. “No. I’ll never ask you to be my mistress. I don’t keep one.”
Likely not enough funds to keep one, and if she didn’t change the subject, he’d tell her so and she’d feel guilty, and he’d have the upper hand and—
“I don’t have the funds to satisfy a mistress.”
Thereit was. Also there, however—a way to tease him with the wordsatisfy. But she would have mercy. She sighed. “So pretty but no brains. Such a pity.” She flopped into a chair. “Why have you come, Lord Theodore?”
He sat slowly, precisely, in the chair across from her, his face composed of chiseled granite. “Why did I hear your butler calling me a gargoyle?”
“Oh.” She laughed, a fake thing she knew he’d never believe. “He wasn’t callingyoua gargoyle, he…” She searched her brain. Nothing. “He was calling you a gargoyle. Because you have a stony face. Particularly when you scowl. And you always scowl.” She grinned, bright as the sun, she hoped. “Why have you come? I’m busy.”
“Why was a woman and a violin case jumping out of your window?”
Because Cordelia had pushed her out, to be honest about it. And she’d pushed her because the woman had dared to suggest Cordelia tell Lord Theodore the truth about her plans, about the school.
“You first,” Cordelia said.
“My brother has received an offer on this house.”
Cold ice ran through her veins. “Will he sell it?”
“Yes. The buyer is offering triple what it’s worth, but only for a month’s time.”
