Page 56 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
He grinned. She’d done it. She’d gone and found the girl. Her eyes met his, and the moment they shared was full of promise. He wasn’t sure how it could be, but promise rushed between them. But promise of what? She pointed to an empty chair and the girl sat, then she moved to the front of the room. “Did I hear you telling all these children about Wellington?”
“Yes you did. Every English child needs to know about England’s glorious wins.”
“I’ll not deny you that. No sir.” She smiled and held up her copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets. “And I think they could also use an introduction to the finer classics.”
Between the two of them, the class consisted of an inspiring, passion-filled day of every worthy example that had inspired one or the other of them over the years. And they each had trimmed their quill and practiced making marks with it.
As their hours together came to a close and the children would be returning home for midday chores, meals, or whatever their lives held, a delicious smell filled the space and excited chatter sounded from the children. The doors opened and a line of servants entered with what looked like baskets of food. The Duchess of York herself entered their room.
Charity lifted a hand to the class. “Children, please stand.” They did, eager to please.
“This is the Duchess of York; you will bow or curtsey and say, “Good morning, Your Grace.”
They did, each with a rudimentary version of some sort of attempt at respect. Andrew was proud of them. And they seemed wide-eyed with amazement to be in the presence of the duchess. He was rather shocked himself to see her there. And grateful for the footmen. It was probably time she returned to her carriage.
But she stayed and helped to pass out the food, speaking with each child.
Then Charity called a woman to the front. She wore her hair back in a bun, and seemed reasonable in every way, if not a bit cheery. “And this is Mrs. Hallford, your real teacher. Starting tomorrow you will be trained by one of the best. Give her close attention.”
Charity moved to stand beside him while they both silently watched the children talk with one another and eat their meals.
“Do I want to know how you got our young pickpocket here?”
She shook her head.
“Just as well.”
“Do I want to know what you taught them for two hours before I arrived?”
He shook his head.
“Thank you.” She turned to him. “Thank you for being here and getting things started. We would have lost all these children and our volunteers if you hadn’t been here.”
“I’m happy to see you’ve come, and with the supplies.”
She was quiet for a moment and then sighed. “I know I’ve behaved in a manner which would give rise to doubt.”
“Not in nearly the same manner that I have.”
Pain crossed her face.
“And for that, I hope to make amends.”
She turned to him. “You do?”
“I…” He was not free to say or share his doubts. “I am not as yet engaged.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure what that means or if I should be pleased or not.”
“Understood.” From the looks of things, he may have lost her good will forever.
“I don’t think you do understand.”
He looked around. Most people were ignoring them, busy with eating or talking with the children, or getting to know one another. “Shall we find a place we are more free to converse?”
She followed him out of the room and into what looked like an out-of-date, unused kitchen. “This will be helpful in the school. I had forgotten about this space.”
“Yes, and the food. The duchess provided?”
