Page 17 of A Winter’s Romance
T he following day was crisp and clear, and a hard frost lay on the skylight window of Jane’s room. She shivered as she scuttled over to the washstand. At least there would be a fire lit in the parlour where she and Meg were to meet her guardian.
At breakfast, Jane could barely eat. Meg too, picked at her food. Jane gazed at her sympathetically. Poor child, her lack of appetite was down to excitement at the expectation of meeting a kind man like her father, not the forbidding horror that Miss Pugh had described.
The minutes went slowly in the classroom as Jane took her pupils through the Commentarii de Bello Gallico. Caesar’s account of the Gallic Wars was written in straightforward, simple Latin sentences, not too difficult for novices of the language to understand.
Jane rested her chin on her hands with only one ear taking in the hesitant translation Mary, one of the older girls, was attempting. If only real life was as simple, Jane thought, not the nuanced mess that it often was. She glanced out of the window to the frost-tinged rooftops of Bath. When would the odious gentleman come? Was he even now making his way puffing and panting up Lansdowne Road?
There was a tap on the classroom door, making the heads of her pupils turn. The maid poked her face into the room. ‘Miss Pugh wants Miss Wilson, if you please, Miss Mortimer.’
Jane swallowed, then smiled convincingly at Meg. ‘Off you go, my dear.’
The clock in the hall chimed the quarter hour. Meg had been gone for at least half an hour. Knots formed in Jane’s stomach. She wanted her ordeal to be over.
Without warning, Miss Pugh swept into the room.
‘I’ll take over here, Miss Mortimer.’ An audible groan came from the girls. Miss Pugh silenced them with a glare. ‘Hurry along to the parlour. Don’t keep the colonel waiting,’
Jane put down her book and sped off, closing the door with a click as she left. Pulse racing, she dashed down the stairs. Better to get it over with. Her hand was shaking as she raised it to tap on the parlour door.
A male voice barked, ‘Enter.’
Jane cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and went in.
The broad-shouldered figure at the fireside had his back to her; he was loading more coals onto the fire.
Jane grimaced. Miss Pugh would not approve.
Meg looked up and smiled brightly from her seat near the fire.
‘Colonel Anstruther said he didn’t see the need to let the fire go out, just because Miss Pugh is not here.’
‘Quite right,’ said the gentleman at the fireplace. ‘No point in being cold for the sake of adding a few lumps of coal.’
His task completed, he put the coal tongs down, straightened up, and turned around.
Jane gasped. ‘It’s you.’
The gentleman’s expression, which at first had been harsh and unyielding, softened and his lips curved upwards.
Her pulse quickened. This was not the horror that Miss Pugh had described.
‘We meet again.’ His deep voice sent warm shivers up Jane’s spine.
Meg looked puzzled. ‘Do you know Colonel Anstruther, Miss?’
‘Er.…’
‘We met quite by accident a couple of days ago,’ interrupted Colonel Anstruther. ‘It is Miss Mortimer you have to thank for your ribbons, Meg.’ He gestured Jane to a chair. ‘I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, finally.’ There was a gruff, masculine chuckle. ‘I must say, I was expecting someone quite different.’
Meg giggled. ‘You mean someone like Miss Pugh, don’t you? Miss Mortimer is not like her, she’s lovely.’
‘Shhh, Meg. Remember your manners.’ Jane blushed. This was all so embarrassing.
‘But it’s true,’ protested Meg.
‘Now, now,’ said the colonel, patting Meg on the shoulder. ‘It may well be true. In fact, I’m pretty certain it is, but you are putting Miss Mortimer to the blush.’ He smiled at Jane. ‘According to Miss Pugh, you are to tell me about Meg and how much she is enjoying her life at the school.’
He cocked his head expectantly, ignoring the look of disgust apparent on Meg’s face.
Jane trembled. Just tell him the truth.
‘Yes, Meg is doing very well at her lessons. She is an excellent reader and is studying Latin, French, and history, as well as the usual feminine subjects of needlework, music, and singing.’
‘Latin, eh?’ He sent an amused glance at Meg. ‘Do you enjoy it? I never did.’
Meg bristled. ‘Yes, Miss Mortimer makes the lessons interesting. She makes all her subjects interesting.’
The colonel’s face swivelled back to Jane. ‘You teach Latin? An unusual subject for a female teacher. I daresay I’d have paid more attention if my tutor…’ His voice trailed off. There was a mischievous glint in his eye.
Jane’s cheeks started to burn. Was he flirting? Surely not.
‘My father was a scholar,’ she said briskly. ‘I was his only child, so he felt that I should benefit from his learning in the absence of a son. Perhaps I should show you round the school.’
Meg leapt out of her seat. ‘Yes, I’ll show you my new room. It has a fireplace.’
The colonel’s brow furrowed. ‘New room?’
Meg looked at him guilelessly. ‘Yes, I was put in a dormitory in the attic with two other girls when Papa died, then this week Miss Pugh said I should have a room of my own again.’
‘This week, eh?’ The colonel looked questioningly at Jane.
Jane sucked in her cheeks, not knowing how to answer. She so wanted Meg to have a good home and this gentleman would look after her. But if Meg went away, she would lose her position.
But this was no time to be selfish. She must tell the truth.
As Meg skipped to the door, Jane moved closer to the colonel so that only he could hear. She breathed in his scent of clean linen and cologne with a subtle hint of orange.
‘I believe Miss Pugh wants Meg to stay at the Academy, because of the fees.’
The colonel frowned for a moment. ‘I understand. Thank you.’
After showing the colonel the classrooms, the parlour, and Meg’s new bedchamber, Jane walked back with him to the office, where Miss Pugh was now seated at her desk.
Jane drew a breath. It was most peculiar; walking round the school had never made her breathless before. But she’d never had such a compellingly masculine companion before.
‘Thank you, Miss Mortimer. You may return to your classroom, and you too, Miss Wilson.’ Miss Pugh sent an ingratiating smile to Colonel Anstruther. ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t want your ward to miss too much. Young girls need structure to their days.’
Jane took Meg’s hand, closed the door, and headed to her class, every nerve in her body tingling. Her future lay in the conversation that would shortly be taking place.
Nicholas walked back to the York Hotel deep in thought. What an enlightening morning it had been. His ward was a delightful child and it wouldn’t be a hardship to take her back with him to the estate and engage a governess. He could rely on his housekeeper, Mrs Sloan, to look after her needs in the meantime.
No, Miss Mortimer was the problem. Ever since that first meeting on Milsom Street when she hadn’t reacted with horror to his face, he’d prayed that he’d see her again. His prayers had been answered that morning. When he’d turned round from the fireplace to see her looking as shocked as he, his heart had leapt in his chest. It had been difficult to breathe. Then she’d smiled. In that instant he knew.
But how to win her? One misstep and all his hopes could be dashed.
Good grief, he’d even tried flirting with her! She’d coloured up so charmingly, but something told him that if he wanted matters to work out with Miss Mortimer, flirting was not the way to go about it.
A proper courtship was needed.
There was something else that bothered him. Miss Mortimer seemed nervous and guarded in her speech, unlike his refreshingly honest ward. He’d quickly guessed that Meg’s new accommodation at the Academy was all about charging him higher fees. Miss Mortimer had confirmed that with her whispered words. What an awkward position she must have found herself in.
He smiled, remembering how Miss Mortimer had leaned into him. She’d smelt of lavender.
Nicholas pursed his lips. He needed to plan a campaign. And it wasn’t too difficult to consider Miss Pugh as the enemy. If he removed Meg from the school, he would have no excuse to see Miss Mortimer again. As much as he wanted to rescue the little girl from the headmistress’s clutches as soon as possible, he wasn’t going to risk his chance of happiness.
An hour later, a satisfied smile settled on Nicholas’ face. His missive to Miss Pugh was on its way. He knew her weak spot and he was going to exploit it.