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“I adore Catherine Morland,” insisted Miss Russell. “She is bold and brave. She believes there is danger lurking behind the walls of Northanger Abbey and a long-ago murder and she is unafraid to go searching for it.”

“And yet she’s completely wrong!” cried Miss Weaver, laughing.

Miss Russell’s smile turned upside down. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you finished the book?” Miss Weaver asked.

Miss Russell shook her head. “No. I’m still waiting for my turn with the copy.”

“Wait.” Mrs. Hillman’s forehead furrowed. “Are you saying that you only have one copy of Northanger Abbey to share among the entire class?”

“We each get to borrow it one day a week,” explained Miss Gilbert. “And Miss Taylor reads it aloud to us on Saturday afternoons.”

“That is not a proper way to conduct a class,” Mrs. Hillman insisted, pursing her lips tightly. “Every girl ought to have her own book.”

“I wish it were so, Mrs. Hillman.” Athena set down her teacup, her cheeks flushing. “But books are expensive, so we make do with what we have.”

“What happened to the endowment I gave you?”

“A portion of it went to pay for the recent roof repair. I need to conserve the remainder to cover servants’ salaries and other school and household expenses.”

“Miss Selena, are you facing a similar shortage of books in the subjects you teach?” Miss Hillman asked.

“Yes, ma’am, but we are managing.”

Bristling, Mrs. Hillman announced, “I have an account at an excellent bookseller in York. Miss Taylor, I shall tell him that you will be calling on him presently. I want you to place an order for as many books as you think appropriate for the needs of your school, and I will pay for them.”

“Mrs. Hillman!” Athena blinked rapidly, struggling for a reply. At last, she shook her head emphatically. “That is very kind, but I couldn’t possibly accept.”

“You have already made such a generous contribution to the school,” Selena agreed.

“But not enough, apparently. I will not take no for answer.”

Athena exchanged a look with Selena, whose shrug seemed to convey her unspoken acceptance. Athena expressed her astonished thanks, which Mrs. Hillman waved away, saying, “Now, girls, if you could have a copy of any book in the world, what would it be?”

A lively conversation ensued in which a great many titles were batted around, including Dickens’s The Pickwick Papers , Alexandre Dumas’s The Three Musketeers , Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre , Frederick Marryat’s The Children of the New Forest , and The Cousin Lucy series by Rev. Jacob Abbott.

Athena was enthralled by the girls’ enthusiasm, and all seemed sorry to leave when the tea party concluded.

They expressed their thanks to Mrs. Hillman for such a lovely afternoon, after which Mr. Chapman escorted the group out of the house. They all paused outside the front door and were about to say goodbye when Mr. Vernon came striding up the walkway.

Athena’s heart caught at the sight of him.

She hadn’t seen Mr. Vernon since he’d fixed her roof three days before.

But in spite of her desire to just be friends, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him—and not in a purely friendly way.

The memory of him that day, clad in a clinging, white shirt, and the warm, admiring look in his eyes as he’d gazed at her, still made her heart go pitter-pat every time she’d thought of it.

And he was looking at her that same way now as he removed his hat. “Miss Taylor,” he said with a bow. “Miss Selena. Mr. Chapman. Girls.”

“Hello. Girls, you remember Mr. Vernon?” Athena asked.

“Yes, miss,” replied Miss Gilbert. All five young ladies dipped in polite curtsies.

“We just had tea with Mrs. Hillman,” announced Miss Russell.

“So I understand.” Mr. Vernon smiled down at the little girl and patted her dark head. “I hope you all enjoyed yourselves?”

“We did!” Miss Jones cried. “There were three kinds of cake and ever so many biscuits and sandwiches.”

“And Mrs. Hillman is going to buy us new books!” added Miss Russell.

“Is she, indeed? How nice of her.” Mr. Vernon turned to Mr. Chapman and the two shook hands. “Congratulations on the success of your music program, Chapman. I’m hearing only good things.”

“The credit goes to my students. They are very gifted,” Mr. Chapman replied with a grin. As the girls giggled with delight, he added, “Speaking of which, duty calls. I have lessons to plan. I pray you will excuse me.” Tipping his hat to one and all, Mr. Chapman bowed and returned to the house.

Mr. Vernon turned to Athena. “Mrs. Hillman told me you would be here today. I hoped to catch you before you left. You had expressed an interest in seeing what we’re doing at the dower house?”

“Yes.”

“My crew is finished for the day, and I’d be happy to give you a tour if you like.”

“Oh! I wish I could,” Athena replied with regret. “But—” She gestured towards her students.

Mr. Vernon addressed the girls directly. “You won’t mind if I steal your headmistress away for a little while, would you?”

“Can we come too?” asked Miss Russell, bouncing from foot to foot.

Mr. Vernon bent lower, one hand over his heart as he regarded her with serious eyes. “Forgive me, but… another time, perhaps. The dower house is undergoing construction and isn’t safe for young ladies like yourselves at the moment.”

Miss Russell’s face fell, but she nodded solemnly. “All right.”

“I’m happy to walk the girls home,” Selena offered, her lips twitching as if to hold back a smile as she darted a clandestine look at Athena.

Athena blushed, her sister’s earlier words flashing into her mind. “I got the impression that Mr. Vernon likes you as more than just a friend. I suspect you feel the same way.”

Athena couldn’t deny it. The thought of spending a few hours in Mr. Vernon’s company was very appealing. “Thank you, Selena.”

“Take all the time you want,” Selena insisted. “There’s no need to rush home.”

Selena hurried the girls down the path, leaving Athena alone with Mr. Vernon.

Mr. Vernon gave her a winning smile. “Shall we?”

*

As they walked to the dower house, Athena reveled in the pleasant scents of growing things and the sight of the trees around them, sporting all the colors of autumn.

“I imagine these gardens are even more beautiful in spring and summer?” Athena remarked.

“They are quite a sight to behold.”

They passed the kitchen gardens, where skeletal pear trees were splayed on trellises along the stone walls and beds of scraggly vegetables and wilting herbs were ending their season of growth.

“My sister and I used to have our own vegetable plots here when we were young,” Mr. Vernon added.

“Mrs. Hillman is obviously very fond of you.”

“She spoiled us. Sometimes I think of Mrs. Hillman as my second mother. My own mother died a few years after my sister was born.”

“I know how that feels. I was six years old when my mother passed away.”

He glanced at her, one lip between his teeth. “Forgive me. Here I am feeling sorry for myself, when you and your sisters went through the very same thing. I think you mentioned a brother as well?”

“Yes, Damon. He’s three years older than I am. I believe the loss of our mother was even harder on him because he’d gotten to know our mother better.”

Mr. Vernon nodded as if in sympathy and recognition. “You said Damon is a clergyman?”

“For a poor parish in London.”

“Important work.”

“He is devoted to it. Sometimes, though, it is soul-crushing work. There are so many people in need, and so little funds to help them—if and when they are willing to accept help. I write to Damon, but I rarely hear back from him.”

“Is he married?”

“Not yet. He says he is too busy to marry. I hope he will find a bride one day.”

Mr. Vernon glanced at her. “How is it that a woman like you is yet unmarried, Miss Taylor?” His blue eyes sparkled with warmth and interest, causing her stomach to do a little flip.

Did he really want to hear the truth? She supposed not. “Perhaps because I spent all of my prime years hidden away as a governess,” she responded lightly.

“Your prime years are hardly over,” he argued.

“In society’s eyes, they are. I’m twenty-nine years old. Hardly an ingenue.”

“Society has strange ideas in that regard. I believe that people improve with age.”

“Like a fine wine?”

“Precisely.”

They shared a laugh.

“Did you never meet anyone whom you might have wished to wed?” he asked.

She clasped her hands as they walked. I might as well be honest . “I thought I did, years ago, but it turned out we weren’t right for each other.”

“May I ask, in what way were you not right for each other? Or would you rather not talk about it?”

“I can talk about it.” Athena hadn’t spoken about this in years, except with Selena, but somehow, she didn’t mind sharing this piece of her past with Mr. Vernon.

“His name was Giles Shaw. He was a gentleman’s oldest son.

We were both on holiday at Scarborough—I was there with the family for whom I was employed.

Mr. Shaw and I talked every morning while the children I cared for made sandcastles on the beach.

I snuck away to see him whenever I had a free moment.

He was clever and he made me laugh. I had known him less than a month when he proposed.

I asked for time to think about it and almost said yes , but I had seen red flags that had worried me. ”

“What kinds of red flags?”