Page 55 of Marry in Haste
There was a short silence, then she folded her hands and said, “Thank you for your offer, Lord Ashendon. However, Miss Mallard has informed me that she intends to retire at the end of term. She has offered me the position of headmistress in her place. It is not as well paid as your offer, but...”
He said incredulously, “You’re turning down the experience of a London season and all it has to offer, in favor of a dreary job keeping schoolgirls in order?”
“Isn’t that what you want me to do with your sisters?” She gave him a swift half smile as if to take the sting out, but he wasn’t fooled.
She smoothed the lace gloves again. “Your offer is very tempting, I admit. But that’s part of the problem. After a year or two of living the high life in London, it would bevery hard to adjust to this life... again.” She said the last word on a breath, so softly he almost didn’t catch it.
“So you’re choosing to hide away here in a drab little girls’ school, instead of taking a risk?”
She gave him a startled glance. “Nonsense. There’s no question of my hiding.” She lifted her chin and said with crisp authority, “Iliketeaching, Lord Ashendon, and I enjoy working with schoolgirls. Moreover, as headmistress, I will be able to make some innovations to the curriculum and operation of the school. I find the prospect quite stimulating. And challenging.”
He snorted. “If you say so. I don’t believe I mentioned the size of the bonuses.” He named a sum that made her blink.
“It is indeed substantial,” she admitted.
He frowned. “But you’re still refusing me.”
She nodded. “A woman like me”—he assumed she meant poor and single—“must look to her future. The position of headmistress here is, more or less, a position for life, and I would be foolish to risk long-term security for short-term gain. So yes, my mind is made up. But thank you for considering me. Good-bye.”
He rose to his feet, severely put out, and made his good-byes brusquely. He collected his hat, gloves and coat from the dragon at the door, flung on his coat, jammed his hat on his head and strode off down the street.
Dammit, where was he going to find another female so suitable? He thrust his hands into his leather gloves. How could she—how could anyone—turn down the opportunity for a glamorous year or two in favor of—what did she call it? A position for life.
Galbraith’s words from the previous night echoed in his head.A tenant for life.
He stopped, stock-still in the street, staring at nothing. People stepped around him, giving him curious looks and muttering about the inconsideration of some people. He ignored them. His mind had seized on an idea.
He turned and marched back toward Miss Mallard’s Seminary for the Daughters of Gentlemen.
***
Emm made no move to leave the room. She had twenty minutes before her next lesson. He’d closed the door behind him when he left, and she knew the moment she opened it and stepped outside, Theale would be waiting, wanting to know why Lord Ashendon had come to speak to her, instead of Miss Mallard, again. Theale was as inquisitive as she was mean-spirited.
Emm wanted a few minutes to herself, to consider what had just happened in peace. Solitude was a rare and precious thing at Miss Mallard’s. As was privacy.
So you’re choosing to hide away here in a drab little girls’ school, instead of taking a risk?
His careless accusation had shocked her. From a stranger who didn’t know her at all, it had cut very close to the bone. Was she hiding?
Shehadbeen hiding when she first came here. Hiding from the world, the gossip and horrid speculation, but mostly from the pain of Papa’s betrayal. His lack of faith in her, his belief in the words of others—false words, false accusations.
His demand that because of malicious gossip she marry a man she did not love. His ultimatum. His last living words to her, as it turned out.
She’d refused, fled like a wounded creature and, somehow, ended up at the school. She hadn’t known where else to go. There were no relatives to turn to. Her friends in the district had either shunned her or been horridly awkward and distressed, not knowing what to believe. Such was the gossip, her presence would taint them.
One mistake, one heartfelt foolish girlish mistake that had come back to haunt her. Because at one time, years before, shehadbeen foolish, had acted recklessly and rashly placed her trust in a man.
And after that, after the heartbreak, she’d been grateful for the forgiveness of her father. A forgiveness that didn’t even last five years.
She hadn’t ever traveled much outside the local area, except to go away to school. So in her blind distress, she’d fled to the only other place she knew: her old school.
Miss Mallard had taken her in, heard her story, tut-tutted a bit and given Emm a job and a place to live.
Was she still hiding? No. Lord Ashendon was wrong. It was loyalty that kept Emm here, not cowardice. She owed Miss Mallard a debt of gratitude.
She picked at a hole in her crocheted glove. She’d been here seven years. That was a lot of gratitude. Did she owe Miss Mallard a lifetime? A week ago, when the future of the school and her position was in doubt, she’d felt quite desperately insecure, wondering what on earth she would do if the school closed.
Now she had the promise of the headmistress-ship, and Emm’s future and that of the school was assured—and the plans she had for it would make it the best young ladies’ seminary in Bath.
