Page 19 of Charming the Headmistress (Spinsters and their Suitors #3)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
E leanor sat at her desk, her quill moving slowly across the page as she made notes for the week’s lessons.
The soft clink of teacups and the murmur of quiet conversation filled the room, but she paid little attention to it—or at least, she told herself she wasn’t paying attention.
She had work to do, and tea had been arranged for Lord Camden and Helena as promised.
It was, after all, Helena’s progress that mattered. That was why Lord Camden had come.
Still, Eleanor couldn’t help but glance up now and then, watching the Marquess and his niece as they spoke. Their voices were low, barely rising above the gentle hiss of a kettle, but there was something undeniably warm about the scene before her.
Lord Camden sat opposite Helena, leaning forward slightly, his voice soft and attentive.
He was asking her about her classes, about the subjects she enjoyed most, and Helena—usually so reserved—was answering with a level of openness that surprised Eleanor.
The girl had always been polite, but this was different.
There was a sense of trust, of comfort, in the way Helena responded, her voice gaining confidence with each word.
Eleanor found herself smiling slightly as she listened, her gaze lingering on the Marquess.
There was something quite lovely about the way he interacted with Helena—so gentle, so focused.
It wasn’t the behavior she had expected from a man of his stature.
She had originally assumed he would be distant, preoccupied with his own affairs, but here he was, fully engaged with his niece, asking her about her lessons as though there was nothing else in the world that mattered.
She turned her attention back to her work, unwilling to intrude on their moment. It was a rare thing for a guardian to take such an active interest in the life of his ward, and she had to admit, it was refreshing to see.
The tea had been set with care on a low table between them, the delicate china gleaming in the afternoon light that streamed through the window. Helena reached for her cup, her movements graceful but careful, and then paused, glancing over at Eleanor.
“Miss Langford,” Helena said, her voice quiet but laced with a kind of formality that seemed to come naturally to her now, “would you like to join us for tea?”
Eleanor’s quill stilled in her hand, surprised by the invitation.
She hadn’t intended to be part of the conversation, but there was no mistaking the polite sincerity in Helena's tone. The girl’s eyes were wide, almost hopeful, and Eleanor found it impossible to refuse.
Still, she looked to Lord Camden for confirmation, her pulse suddenly quickening as their eyes met. She raised one eyebrow in question.
Lord Camden’s smile was warm. “You’re most welcome,” he said, his voice was kind as he gestured toward the teapot. “Please, join us. Helena thought it might be more enjoyable with your company.”
“Thank you,” Eleanor replied, setting her quill aside and standing. She moved toward the tea table, aware of Lord Camden's gaze on her as she took a seat beside them.
Eleanor inclined her head in acknowledgment, though she kept her expression neutral.
“I am happy to join you,” she said, but as she poured herself a cup of tea, she made no effort to dominate the conversation.
This was their moment, after all. She was content to sit quietly, to listen as Helena continued to speak about her lessons.
Her thoughts centered around the last time Lord Camden had been in her office when the two of them had taken tea together.
In the last five days, since he had walked her home from town and had stayed for over an hour for tea, she had thought of little else.
As they talked, Eleanor found herself watching them both more closely. Helena, so composed, so eager to share her thoughts with her uncle, and Lord Camden, with that steady gaze of his, listening to every word as though it were the most important thing in the world.
The conversation flowed easily between them, with Helena speaking more freely than Eleanor had ever heard before. There was something truly special in the connection they shared, and Eleanor couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction—Helena was beginning to thrive, just as she had hoped.
When the time came for Helena to return to class, she rose gracefully, giving both her uncle and Eleanor a small smile. “Thank you, Uncle. And thank you, Miss Langford.”
“You’re welcome, Helena,” Eleanor said, her voice gentle. “I’ll see you at the next lesson.”
As Helena left the room with a soft click of the door behind her, Eleanor rose politely, expecting Lord Camden to do the same. He stood briefly, as propriety demanded, then paused and offered her a quiet smile, lifting his teacup slightly.
“Please,” he said, gesturing to the seat across from him, “stay a moment longer.”
There was an unfamiliar warmth in his expression, and the invitation carried a sincerity that caught her off guard. Eleanor hesitated only a moment before lowering herself gracefully back into her chair. She folded her hands in her lap, unsure of what this moment might become.
“I must say,” Lord Camden began, his voice softer now, more intimate than formal, “you’ve done something remarkable with Helena. I can’t remember the last time I saw her so at ease.”
Eleanor allowed herself a small smile. “She is beginning to find her footing again. But I merely provide the boundaries. The change comes from within her.”
He set his cup down and leaned back slightly. “You give yourself too little credit, Miss Langford. You do so much here. I imagine it takes a great deal of time to tend to the upkeep of the school, in addition to helping each student individually.”
She didn’t quite know how to answer that, so she simply inclined her head in acknowledgment. There was something different in the air—less guarded, more companionable.
She lifted her teacup again, cradling it between her hands. “I enjoy helping all of the girls. But you are correct. There’s always something in need of mending around here,” she said with a faint laugh. “Roof tiles, floorboards, windows that refuse to shut in the wind ...”
“And yet it’s charming,” he said. “You’ve made it feel lived in, not neglected.”
“That may not be completely accurate. There are some repairs that have been needed for quite some time, though I do not try to neglect them. It is sometimes difficult to prioritize all of the repairs.”
He hesitated, as if choosing his words. “Have you ever asked the parents for assistance? Quietly, I mean. I suspect many would be glad to help preserve a place that’s shaping their daughters.”
Eleanor looked at him, surprised. “To fund the repairs?”
He gave a small nod. “It wouldn’t have to be a formal campaign. Some might appreciate the opportunity to contribute without any obligation.”
She considered this. “It’s not something I’ve ever done. We try to remain as independent as possible.”
“And there’s merit in that,” he agreed. “But there’s also no shame in letting others support what they value.”
Eleanor gave a thoughtful nod, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “I’ll consider it. It’s a fair suggestion.”
A companionable silence settled between them, broken only by the quiet ticking of the clock on the mantel. Lord Camden’s presence, once commanding and distant, had grown familiar—anchoring, even. She found she no longer felt the urge to fill the silence; it was enough to share it.
He stood, and Eleanor rose with him. As he prepared to leave, he reached out and took her hand gently—not just a handshake, but the gentle lift of her fingers to his lips. His eyes met hers as he kissed the back of her hand, and Eleanor could not suppress the warmth that rushed to her cheeks.
“Thank you, Miss Langford,” he said, voice low. “For the tea—and the company.”
Eleanor felt her heart flutter as he kissed her fingers, though she kept her expression serene. At length she found her voice. “You’re welcome, my lord. You are always welcome here.”
“May I come for tea again next week?” he asked.
She nodded. “Of course. I am sure Helena will enjoy that.” And Eleanor wouldn’t mind either.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I look forward to our next meeting.”
Eleanor managed a nod, her voice steady despite the sudden rush of emotions. “As do I.”
With a final bow, Lord Camden turned and left the room, leaving Eleanor standing by the tea table, her heart still fluttering from the touch of his lips on her hand.
As soon as he was gone, Eleanor raised her hands to her cheeks, pressing her cool fingers against the warmth that still lingered there.
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sensation settle.
He hadn’t come to tea with her. He had come for Helena.
But he hadn’t exactly hurried to leave when Helena left, either.
There was no denying the fluttering in her center, a sensation she hadn’t felt in a long time.
She crossed slowly to her desk, the empty tea cup still resting where he’d left it. Her heart fluttered again, a sensation that had no place in her carefully ordered life, and yet she didn’t want it to stop.
She opened her eyes and exhaled softly, returning to her desk with measured steps. There was work to be done—always—but the thought of Lord Camden's return next week filled her mind, lingering long after the room had returned to its familiar quiet.