Page 28 of Too Wanton to Wed
“All right,” she said grudgingly. “But don’t plug your ears.”
Violet crisscrossed her heart with one finger. “Promise.”
After much theatric clearing of the throat, Lillian began to sing. “A... b... c... d—”
They were still huddled together on the floor when Mr. Waldegrave came to relieve Violet, a few minutes later. The door had opened quietly enough that Lillian, with her back to the passageway, had not yet noticed her father’s arrival.
He clutched the doorjamb as if thunderstruck.
Violet was careful not to break eye contact with her charge, so that Lillian would continue “teaching” Violet the song. She felt it important that Mr. Waldegrave realize that no matter how much Lillian appeared to have resented his attempts at instruction, she had listened and remembered. And enjoyed reenacting her father’s songs with impressive dramatic flair.
When the song ended, however, he slipped back into the passageway as if he’d remembered a forgotten appointment. The door closed softly behind him. Violet blinked at the now-empty space where he had just stood.
A knock sounded. “Lillian?”
“Miss Smythe! It’s Papa!” Eyes round, Lillian leapt to her feet and tried to tug Violet to hers. “Quickly, quickly. Don’t let him see us on the floor.”
Violet allowed herself to be led back to the table. “Why not?”
Lillian stared at her as if Violet were shamefully slow for a governess. “Because if he thinks I’m not learning, he’ll send you away.”
“Ah.” Before Violet could think of a more profound rejoinder, the door reopened and Mr. Waldegrave reentered, this time with significantly more scuffle and noise.
“How was class?” he asked gruffly.
Chin high, Lillian glanced away without responding.
“Lovely, as always,” Violet answered, rising to her feet. “Miss Lillian, enjoy your luncheon. We’ll continue in two hours.”
“If we must.” Lillian stalked sullenly to her father’s side, but made no attempt to attack him with words or fists.
“Miss Smythe, if you don’t mind waiting here for me?” Something in his eyes indicated this was much more than an idle request. “I will just be a moment.”
She busied herself straightening the table. “Of course.”
By the time she’d collected all the pieces of chalk—and brushed what dust she could from her backside—Mr. Waldegrave had returned.
“Please.” He held open the door, candle in hand. “Come with me.”
Keeping her expression impassive, Violet joined him in the passageway. He made no move to continue walking. Nor did he speak. Then:
“Please accept my apologies for the outburst yesterday afternoon.” His voice was low, but sincere. “My behavior was inexcusable.”
“I owe you the greater apology,” she admitted. “Pilfering Mr. Roper’s key was not at all well done of me. Nor was browsing someone else’s belongings. I had no right to touch anything not pertaining to myself.”
His head tilted sharply. “You took Roper’s key without his knowledge?”
“I’m afraid so.” She hoped the passageway was shadowed enough to hide her blush.
He was silent for a long moment and then did the unthinkable. He laughed.
“That explains the change of heart, all right.” He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Roper doesn’t tend to like much of anyone, but seemed to make an exception for you. You got the better of him—a feat heretofore unprecedented. He cannot help but respect that.”
She smiled back. “I’m not sure I bested him so much as he underestimated me.”
“Same thing, I’d wager. And either way, a wonderful lesson for Roper.”
“And for me, as well.” She took a deep breath. “I am truly sorry about the gown. It was beautiful.”
