Page 13

“M rs. Hillman. How are—?” Mr. Vernon stopped short, his smile fleeing as he caught sight of Athena and Selena.

An awkwardness filled the air. Athena’s insides tightened as she and her sister stood to mark his entrance.

He was attired in a well-cut black suit and blue cravat, his inky-black hair perfectly combed back from a face that was even more good-looking than Athena had remembered.

But looks did not make a man a gentleman, Athena reminded herself.

She couldn’t forget his ill-mannered behavior the last time they’d spoken.

He fiddled with the strap of a large, leather satchel that hung from one of his shoulders, and then with a bow, he told their hostess, “Forgive me. I thought our appointment was for three-thirty. I must have been mistaken.”

“You must forgive me ,” Mrs. Hillman replied. “I recall the time of our appointment perfectly, but I thought it was for tomorrow.”

“Ah,” said he.

“I’m sure you know Miss Taylor and Miss Selena?” Mrs. Hillman gestured to them with a friendly smile.

“We have met.” Mr. Vernon gave them each a polite nod, his gaze meeting Athena’s for only the briefest of seconds. “It is a pleasure to see you again.” His tone was flat, belying the statement.

“And you, Mr. Vernon,” Selena answered.

“Sir,” was all Athena said. Irritation prickled down her spine.

This man seemed to have only one attitude: hostility.

If he and Mrs. Hillman shared a connection dating back to his childhood, Athena wondered what had necessitated, as he had put it, “an appointment.” And what was in that oversized satchel of his?

As if in answer to her unspoken questions, Mrs. Hillman explained, “Ian has been working up plans to renovate my dower house. These are the final revisions, I believe?”

“Yes. Subject to your approval, of course.”

“That’s right! You’re an architect, aren’t you, Mr. Vernon?” Selena asked.

“I am.” To Mrs. Hillman, he added, “I don’t wish to intrude, ma’am. I shall take my leave and return tomorrow.”

“Nonsense, Ian. You are never an intrusion, my dear. You must stay to tea.”

“We could go,” Athena offered hastily. “You have business to conduct, and my sister and I can return another day.”

“Don’t be silly. You must all stay.” Mrs. Hillman waved Mr. Vernon towards the unoccupied chair beside her. “Please, sit down, everyone.”

Mr. Vernon complied, setting his satchel on the floor beside his chair. Athena and Selena resumed their seats.

Mrs. Hillman clapped her hands, and the housekeeper—apparently having anticipated her employer’s unspoken request—reappeared with another teacup and plate for the new arrival, and then silently vanished.

As Mrs. Hillman poured tea for Mr. Vernon, Athena sighed inwardly.

It was going to be a long and uncomfortable afternoon now.

She would just have to make the best of it.

“You said you are renovating your dower house?” she inquired of Mrs. Hillman.

Athena wondered why. A dower house was a less pretentious residence intended for the use of a widow, when the eldest son inherited and moved into the manor house. But Mrs. Hillman had no children.

“You will say it’s silly of me, that I have no need of the dower house, and it is so far removed from the main house.

But I have finished all the renovations at Darkmoor Park and require a new endeavor.

” Darting an affectionate look towards Mr. Vernon, Mrs. Hillman added, “Besides, it gives me an excuse to see one of my favorite people on a regular basis.”

“I hope that is not your primary reason behind this project,” Mr. Vernon said, frowning as he helped himself to a slice of cake.

“Of course not. The dower house is a piece of Darkmoor Park’s history. It has a charm of its own and I hate to see it crumbling to ruins.”

“There are a few changes I should like to make at Thorndale Manor, if we can ever afford it,” Selena said, her tone wistful.

Mr. Vernon froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “What would you change?”

Athena’s throat constricted. She and her sister had discussed future hopes for the house, but it felt unwise to speak about such things in front of Mr. Vernon, the acrimonious former owner.

Selena blushed, as if aware of her mistake. “Forgive me, sir. I shouldn’t have mentioned that. They are idle dreams at best. At present, we can’t even afford new pencils.”

“The house is wonderful,” Athena said quickly. “We have no complaints.”

“And yet Miss Selena is not satisfied,” he insisted. “Again, I ask: what would you change?”

Selena darted Athena an almost desperate look as if to say, I’m sorry . Hesitantly, she said, “Well, for example, we gather with our pupils in the drawing room every evening. It would be nice to enlarge it to accommodate more students in the future.”

“That would be impossible,” Mr. Vernon shot back.

“Why?” Athena asked.

“Most of the walls in the drawing room are structural and cannot be moved. Even if that were not the case, there is no way to enlarge that room without taking away much-needed space from the adjoining chambers.”

“Oh.” Selena’s face fell. “That’s a shame.”

Although this was interesting insight, which Athena valued, she didn’t appreciate Mr. Vernon’s manner or tone. Were his opinions simply based on experience—or tainted by personal grievances? “Thank you for your advice,” she stated, her jaw tight.

“I would take care before attempting any major renovations at Thorndale Manor, lest you affect the integrity of the entire building,” he warned.

Mrs. Hillman’s gaze traveled from Athena to Mr. Vernon’s disgruntled face and back again.

She clicked her tongue. “Ladies: you must forgive Mr. Vernon if he sounds like a grumpy, old bear. It broke his heart to let Thorndale Manor go.” To Mr. Vernon, she added, “But we have been over this at length, my dear. You had no choice.”

Mr. Vernon stared down at his teacup. “Leave it, Mrs. Hillman. Please.”

Mrs. Hillman ignored his plea. “You were fortunate to find a buyer when you did, Ian. And from what I hear, these ladies are doing something marvelous with the place.”

Mr. Vernon sat rigidly in his seat. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. His face colored slightly. “As you say, ma’am. What’s done is done. We must make the best of it.”

Athena sensed Mr. Vernon’s discomfort and embarrassment and despite herself, she once again felt bad for him.

Who was to say how she might react, if forced to give up her beloved home and birthright to another?

She was searching her mind for an appropriate comment when Mrs. Hillman, seeming to warm to her subject, turned to Athena and Selena.

“Now, Miss Taylor and Miss Selena, you must tell us all about your school. What subjects do you teach?”

As they drank a second cup of tea and finished the delicacies on their plates, Selena expounded for some minutes on the matter, and Athena interjected her own observations and hopes.

Mrs. Hillman was delighted by all that she heard. “What a wonderful and worthwhile undertaking. Don’t you agree, Ian?”

Mr. Vernon, who had been silent during this part of the conversation, set down his teacup and said quietly, “I have long believed that girls deserved a far better education than has been afforded them. It sounds as if your pupils are in very good hands, Miss Taylor and Miss Selena. I hope your enterprise will inspire the foundation of many more similar educational institutions for young ladies.”

His comment took Athena by surprise. It was the first positive remark he had made about her or about the school. “Thank you, Mr. Vernon.”

Mrs. Hillman gave a deep sigh. “Ian’s sister, Caroline, would have loved to attend such a place. She was so curious about the world.”

Mr. Vernon went still. He made no comment, but as he carefully replaced his teacup in its saucer, a haunted look came into his blue eyes.

Athena could guess at the reason behind his response.

He must have suffered greatly when his sister had died on the gallows all those years ago.

Athena’s thoughts darted to Mrs. Lloyd’s pronouncement—that, in her opinion, Miss Vernon had been wrongly judged.

Athena wanted to know Mrs. Hillman’s thoughts on the matter, and it seemed to be the perfect time to find out.

“We’ve heard about what happened to Miss Vernon,” Athena said softly. “And we are so sorry about it.”

“As are we all.” Mrs. Hillman’s voice was also hushed.

“My housekeeper told me that you and Miss Vernon were very close?” Athena prompted.

The older woman nodded her head. “Caroline was the like the daughter I never had. Just as this gentleman was—and still is—as dear to me as my own son.” She gave Mr. Vernon a smile, which he returned, his eyes still sad.

“They were such handsome children. You can see them there.” She pointed to a portrait in oils hanging on a nearby wall.

“I think Caroline was five years old when I had that commissioned. Ian, I believe you were eleven?”

The room was so filled with artwork, Athena hadn’t paid it much notice.

She now directed her gaze to the youthful portrait.

It featured a lovely girl, dressed in a pale-pink frock with a white sash, and a handsome boy in a finely tailored suit and embroidered waistcoat.

The resemblance between the two was unmistakable.

Both had the same raven-black hair and identical, cornflower-blue eyes.

Athena could see in the young boy’s face the precursor of the man he was to become.

“How sweet they are,” Selena murmured.

Athena had to agree.

“And there is Caroline at age eighteen, just before she came out.” Mrs. Hillman gestured to a large painting hanging over the mantelpiece.

Athena turned her attention to the second portrait and drew in a breath of wonder. A breathtakingly beautiful young woman had been preserved forever by the magic of art and paint.