Page 27 of Not his Marchioness (Daughters of the Ton #2)

In truth, she desired nothing more than to lie in her bed and change out of her damp garments. Contrary to his assertion, it was not merely her right foot and leg that had suffered, but the entire right side of her dress as well.

She extricated herself from his arms and wrung the sodden fabric. The water splattered on the grass beneath.

“I confess I do not believe the third location to be a particularly suitable option,” he said. “Lady Woodhaven may find it… objectionable.”

“For what reason?” she inquired.

“She does not seem quite so progressive in her thinking as you do.”

She regarded him with curiosity. “What could be controversial about the building itself?”

“Nothing about the structure, but perhaps about those who occupied it previously. It hosted a Catholic convent most recently, and housed a Jewish community before that. Prior to that, it was a poor house.”

“But you told me that it was situated most advantageously, superior even to this location.”

“Indeed,” he acknowledged. “And if you insist, I will show it to you. But I fear Lady Woodhaven may not approve.”

“I wish to see it,” she declared firmly.

“You are as obstinate as you are determined, Charlotte Ellingsworth.” He tutted, and her heart fairly leaped at hearing her Christian name paired with his surname. “Would you risk catching a cold just to prove a point?”

“I will not catch a cold. I have been thoroughly soaked more than once in my life and have never once fallen ill. Furthermore, I am resolute, not obstinate. There is a considerable difference.”

“Very well, but you must promise me you will wrap yourself snugly in the travel rug whilst we are in the carriage.”

Charlotte nodded her agreement, and together they made their way back through the house.

Her right side felt considerably heavier than before, and she was conscious of the water sloshing within her boots with each step.

By the time they emerged, her shoe produced a most unfortunate squelching sound with every movement, and Rhys was clearly struggling to suppress his laughter.

“Charlotte!” Margot exclaimed upon their return. “I leave you unattended for a few minutes, and you return resembling a drowned rat? Whatever occurred out there?”

“There was a pond,” Charlotte replied.

Margot burst into laughter. “A pond? Did it spring forth out of nowhere like some sort of mirage?”

“Rather like a mirage, indeed,” Rhys confirmed. “It was concealed beneath a great deal of overgrown grass. And I had advised your cousin to avoid the garden entirely.”

Charlotte looked up at him sharply. “You cannot help yourself, can you? You derive such pleasure from being proven correct.”

“I confess I do, if only because it occurs so infrequently,” he replied with a wink.

She felt her cheeks flush and silently cursed herself, then focused on drying herself as thoroughly as possible with the travel rug he provided.

A quarter-hour later, they exited the carriage once more.

“Good heavens, it occupies the entire plot by itself?” Charlotte marveled.

“There were buildings flanking it on both sides, but the convent had them demolished to create space for gardens. I believe their intention was to eventually build a cemetery on the right-hand side.”

“A cemetery?” Margot echoed with alarm. “I would not think that a suitable environment for a school.”

“They never built it. They have relocated to a different property that better serves their needs. Perhaps we ought not to mention that detail to Lady Woodhaven.”

“That would be wise,” Charlotte agreed.

They proceeded onward, her boot continuing its unfortunate squelching. Cursing her misfortune, she attempted to walk on her heel, which seemed to produce less noise. Rhys was still suppressing his laughter, but she saw the grin on his lips every time she looked at him.

He opened a small iron gate, and they approached the main building.

Upon entering, they found themselves in a spacious sanctuary where several pews remained, though they were arranged haphazardly, as though some had been removed while others were left behind.

A pulpit occupied the center, and at the rear stood what appeared to be an ornate cabinet with a singular candle fixture suspended from the ceiling.

The windows were large, letting in plenty of light.

There was a kitchen at the rear, with enough space to accommodate a large table and chairs for the children’s midday meal.

Three additional chambers—one at the back and two flanking the main room—were of decent sizes and could be converted into a study for the headmistress and additional classrooms, or perhaps sleeping quarters for teachers, should they wish to live on the premises.

Offering room and board may well help keep down the costs.

“I thought, should you select this property, we might have walls erected within the sanctuary to transform the single space into four separate classrooms,” Rhys explained. “Then, you could allocate the side chambers to any teachers who wished to reside on the premises.”

“It is ideal,” Charlotte declared after they had examined not only the building but also the extensive enclosed garden.

The grounds were at least thrice the size of the previous property, and mercifully contained no hidden ponds whatsoever. She could almost envision the children playing here.

“The location is absolutely perfect.”

“Indeed. I like that it is not between two buildings like the second one. After all, children are prone to mischief,” Margot remarked.

“And yet here is even space for carriages, should people wish to drive their children here.” Rhys nodded to himself while Charlotte exchanged a glance with Margot.

“I do not believe that the poor own carriages to drive their children anywhere,” Charlotte commented. “In fact, it may be a problem, no matter which location we select.”

“You are quite right. Sometimes I forget my privileged circumstances. We would need to devise some means of transporting the children who do not reside in the immediate vicinity. Perhaps we could engage a gentleman with a cart to collect the children each morning.”

Charlotte examined the building once more from the outside. She could see it all so clearly—the sanctuary divided into two or three rooms furnished with desks and chairs, the kitchen where the children could take their meals, and the gardens where they could play and exercise.

She turned to Rhys. “This is it,” she announced, interrupting whatever conversation he was having with Margot. “This will be my school.”

“What will Lady Woodhaven say to that? Will she not have opinions regarding such a decision?”

“She need not know what the building used to be,” she replied. “I will simply present it to her. She will find it as charming as I do, and then she will give her approval.”

“You place considerable faith in people who are known to harbor certain… prejudices,” Rhys cautioned. “I do not want to see you disappointed.”

“If you truly wished to spare me disappointment, you ought not to have shown me this building, to begin with.” Charlotte paused. “Why did you, if you harbored such reservations?”

He shrugged. “Because I believed it to be perfect.”

“And so it is,” she declared. “Perfect, indeed.”