Page 61

Her breath was coming in ragged exhalations and next to her, George was still sporting that mercenary expression of someone who’d caught a thief red-handed. All Magdalene could think about was that this particular thief was stealing more than just her time and her trust.

They stood in silence—bar the all-consuming roar of anxiety in Magdalene’s ears—just outside the classroom, the flimsy door not doing much to preclude them from hearing the voices inside. But when she forced herself to listen, now past the noise of her pounding heart, what Magdalene discerned was an uncharacteristic aggravation in that low, slightly hoarse voice that was so familiar to her.

“…I thought the trustees would show Headmistress Nox their full support, especially considering what she’s being exposed to by doing your bidding.”

Magdalene’s eyebrows shot up. There was so much accusation inherent in that hissed sentence, as if Sam was throwing it at Alden through gritted teeth. As if she was disgusted by their entire conversation. A few slow, heavy steps followed, but were halted by a louder proclamation filled with fierceness and a considerable amount of frustration.

“Isn’t that why you appointed her in the first place? Because Headmistress Fenway was running the school in a decidedly liberal direction, and the trustees disagreed with her vehemently? So you chose to bring in one of the most efficient reformers of private education institutions in the country who is famous for turning crumbling schools around. Why are you here now, thoroughly undermining her very presence at Dragons with these questions?”

Next to her, George gasped loudly, and Magdalene clamped a hand over her mouth. As moist lips hit her palm, she jerked back as George's breath caught, her throat bobbing.

Magdalene chose to ignore the surprised expression on her secretary's face. She needed to hear the end of this, and George was going to blow their cover.

“Go back to the office.” She mouthed the words, conscious of not giving her voice any volume. George’s shoulders drooped and she raised a hand, one finger extended like she was about to argue. But when Magdalene set her jaw and narrowed her eyes pointedly, George slunk away without another sound.

Alone, and now more curious than ever, Magdalene realized that she’d missed Alden’s reply, his voice no match for Sam’s accusatory, elevated tone. She didn’t catch what Sam said either, but the insult rang clear, and it must have acquired the intended target, because a few seconds later, Alden’s attempts at pacifying reached her ears.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Magdalene smiled.Well, what did you mean, old man?

She waited, motionless, for what would happen next, oblivious to anything except how her heart had lifted. In the space of a few minutes, she had undergone the transition from despair to this state of elation. Sam was standing by her! Sam was accusing Alden of throwing Magdalene under the bus and essentially scapegoating her!

Dizziness settled over her, the relief making her stagger. Her heart in her throat, hammering wildly, Magdalene extended a hand and stumbled closer to the wall, the stone once again giving her succor and respite. And she felt not a little bit afraid. Terrified, if she was completely honest with herself. The power Sam had over her.

She trembled and was not entirely certain it was from fear alone. Her palms were damp, and she throbbed between her legs. God, the things Samdidto her without even knowing.

There was silence for a beat and then another inside the classroom. Surely, it was the scent of paint that was making Magdalene lightheaded. Or maybe it was the sheer exaltation of being propped up. Defended. For once, stood-by instead of betrayed. She leaned fully against the wall, her eyes closing to keep the sensation in for a little longer.

Amidst the silence, punctuated only by Magdalene’s deliberate effort at breathing, Sam’s voice, calm and collected, rang loudly.

“I think you need to drop by Headmistress Nox’s office and express your concern for her and your support for her efforts for what they are, since you’re the one who commissioned them.”

Alden must have been pacing the classroom because the staccato of loud steps stopped suddenly.

“But you yourself don’t support these efforts, Samantha.” The surprise in his voice was evident. Magdalene felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth before she drew her brows together.

And Samantha? Now this was curious…

“I don’t support any of the reforms you, Joel, and Timothy Nox saddled the school with. Fewer extracurriculars? Fewer scholarships? We both know your ideal number of scholarships is zero, so don’t bother arguing. What’s next? Homemaking classes? Red capes? What I’m saying is that, while I don’t agree with some of the ideas Headmistress Nox is implementing, I also don’t believe you should punish her for flawlessly executing your own orders.”

Before the impulse to rush in and kiss Sam senseless overpowered her, or either Sam or Alden could exit the classroom, Magdalene turned on her heel and walked away as quietly as she could. She had heard enough.

* * *

Behind the glassof her office window, the afternoon was turning into a gloomy evening when a knock on her door made Willoughby hiss and assume his attack position on the windowsill.

Magdalene accompanied her quiet “come” with a gentle scratch to his ears and observed as her cat and the oldest trustee exchanged stares–one rather vicious, the other puzzled and apprehensive across the expanse of her office.

Alden shuffled his feet, and his mouth worked silently until Magdalene took pity on him. And he did look rather miserable.

“How can I help you, Mr. Alden?”

He gave her a long look, then moved forward and sat in the chair Sheriff Green had occupied earlier. The dichotomy between the two men couldn’t have been more stark, robust and frail, honest and wily. With one last scratch to Willoughby’s warm ear, Magdalene sat down. Pitiful or not, Alden held strings–strings she did not want him to pull. And his presence in her office, aside from having been goaded into it by Sam, meant one more thing. He wanted something.

“I see you’re not surprised I’m here, Mrs. Nox.”

The title grated, and she knew he’d used it on purpose.Well, then.