To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) (4 page)

He glimpsed at the girls over his shoulder.
Their eyes widened further. A tear slipped down Miss Fairview’s
cheek before he turned back to Miss Crawford. If he did not know
any better, he would have thought the teacher was intentionally
trying to frighten the girls. A small smile pulled at her lips and
confirmed his suspicions. He should be insulted that she would
terrorize the girls at his expense, but he wasn’t. He was amused
that the lady had the nerve to do something he himself had toyed
with doing to the entire town, and right in front of him.

* * *

The girls followed but fell further and
further behind – their heads together as they whispered to one
another, but she couldn’t catch any words. Tess would never want to
hurt Lord Atwood, not that she knew anything about him, but rumors
were just that – rumors, with little, if any, truth. However, the
girls needed to be taught a lesson. And, it would be such a delight
to scare the girls for a day or so. It wasn’t like they would come
to any harm. However, she could not risk hurting Lord Atwood.

She had come full circle. What to do?

“Eliza,” she turned back to her students.
“Were you in your room tonight or somewhere else?” She still
believed the girl too afraid to return to her own room after
finishing
Wake Not the Dead
but was curious to her
answer.

Eliza glanced at Sophia before she answered.
“We were in Rosemary’s room.”

Tess halted and turned to face them. “Why on
earth were you still up so late? We sent you to your separate rooms
hours ago.” She shouldn’t persist, but as their teacher, she wanted
an answer.

“We were reading,” Sophia answered.

“Not Wake not. . .” Tess began.

“Shhhh.” Eliza risked a glance to Lord
Atwood. “We were reading
The Veiled Picture
by Anne
Radcliffe.”

Tess sighed and turned back around and began
walking once again. “While I should chastise each of you for
staying up late reading, and not tucked in your own beds asleep, I
dare say tonight could have come to a tragic end had you behaved
for a change.”

Lord Atwood leaned down. “The Veiled
Picture?”

“A horrid novel,” Tess snorted.

“Then they should adore my home.” He
laughed.

Stunned, Tess looked at him.

He smiled down at her. “You shall see.”

They walked in silence, careful in their
steps along the debris strewn lane. “I am still amazed at the
damage,” Tess said after a few moments.

“I’ve only witnessed one other storm that
strong.”

“Was there much damage? Were you injured?”
she questioned, wanting to keep an open dialogue. She knew the
girls whispered behind her. Knowing their imaginations and fear of
Lord Atwood, she did not want him to overhear anything they may say
against his character, no matter how far-fetched.

“We only lost a few boards off the stable.
Some trees lost limbs, but nothing like this.”

“Watch your step, my lord,” Wesley called
out. “This is where the tree came down.”

Tess glanced up to where the valet stood. He
walked ahead of them with the lantern he brought from Atwood’s home
held high, illuminating the area. The tree was huge. In the
darkness she could not see either end so it appeared impossible to
go around.

“It looks like we are going to have to climb
over,” Atwood announced and came to a stop beside his servant. “I
will go first. You assist the ladies from this side and I will help
them on the other.”

Tess turned toward the girls, who held back.
“Come on girls. I, for one, am tired and would like to arrive at
our destination.”

The young ladies exchanged frightened looks
before they glanced at Lord Atwood and then back to each other.
Tess sighed and turned toward the tree. Perhaps she should not have
teased them so much. But she never dreamed they would be so
gullible as to believe in vampires. These were intelligent girls
and reason should eventually come to the forefront. But apparently
it hadn’t. She placed her hand in Wesley’s and climbed onto the
tree. Even l on its side it almost came to her thighs and there was
no ladylike manner in which to climb over and Tess hoped she did
not expose too much leg in the process. Once she was settled on her
knees in the middle of the trunk, she took her hand from Wesley and
placed it in Atwood’s. He assisted her until she stood on the
opposite side.

The girls hung back.

“Rosemary, you go first.”

The girl stepped forward with slow deliberate
steps, placed her valise on the ground and mimicked Tess’s
movements in climbing over the tree. As soon as she was on the
other side, she moved to the opposite side of the lane from Atwood.
Tess closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head.

“Sophia, you are next.”

Sophia held Eliza’s hand until it was time to
relinquish it to Wesley. Once she landed on the other side of the
fallen tree, she scurried to stand next to Rosemary.

Without waiting to be told, Eliza climbed
over the tree with no assistance and hurried to her friends. Wesley
handed the lantern to Atwood, returned the two valises Sophia and
Rosemary and joined group. Wesley paused to dust bark from his
trousers and straighten his jacket. Only when his appearance was
put to rights did he retrieve the light back from Atwood.

“Come along,” he announced and led the way,
posture perfect and nothing out of place. Next to him Tess decided
she probably resembled more of a street urchin, or the unfortunate
victim of an unskilled seamstress.

One of the girls gasped when the clouds moved
to cover the moon. Without the lantern, they would be in complete
darkness and unable to see where they walked. The wind picked up
and whistled through the branches.

How much further?
She knew Atwood’s
home lay not far away, but with the change in the scenery brought
about by the storm, she was unsure exactly where they were.

“I dare say, Lord Atwood,” Wesley called
back. “We should quicken our pace if we wish to arrive prior to the
next storm.”

“You are right,” his lordship answered.

“Come along girls,” Tess called behind her.
“We don’t want to get drenched if it begins to rain again.”

“Yes, Miss Crawford,” Sophia answered in a
shaky voice.

Tess hoped they made it to the house before
the rain. This was her only dress. Who knew how long it would take
to retrieve her clothing from her room, and if any were reparable
after the closet had been crushed by a tree?

She would not think about that now. There was
nothing she could do at the moment. With any luck, there would be a
servant who could loan her a serviceable dress until she could
replace her own clothing. Despite the tempest, she had been lucky
tonight. Had she not taken the walk, she could have very well been
crushed to death in her own bed. The thought brought a shiver and
goose pimples to her arm.

“Are you cold, Miss Crawford?” Lord Atwood
looked down at her with concern.

“I was just reflecting on what could have
happened.”

“I suppose,” he offered and looked straight
ahead.

It was an odd response, but another matter
Tess would not dwell on. Though the man had saved her and offered a
place to sleep, it is not like she knew him well, or at all for
that matter. Hopefully, they would be able to return to the school
tomorrow, so that he was not inconvenienced any more than
necessary.

“I do believe we will beat the rain. Come
along girls,” Wesley called back as he rounded the corner.

Tess could not tell if they quickened their
steps or not, but did not look back. This had been a long night and
they would catch up eventually.

The group rounded the corner as the clouds
moved on. Moonlight illuminated Atwood’s home. She heard gasps from
behind. So, the girls weren’t that far away.

Tess took in the sight before them and could
imagine what was going on in the girl’s heads. Shutters hung at
crooked angles along the top floor. A tree limb had fallen against
the house. Even from here, she could hear the scraping against the
window when the wind blew. Though the place appeared to remain
intact, it no longer resembled the well-managed, immaculate manor
she had seen in the daylight. If not for the single light that
moved through the rooms below, one would have thought this place
long abandoned.

“It looks worse than it is, Lord Atwood,”
Wesley assured and stepped onto the walkway. The gate lay on its
side in their path and they carefully stepped though the wrought
iron bars to keep from tripping.

The front door banged open and against the
inside wall.

“The latch was broken in the storm. We will
seal it shut tonight, once everyone is within.”

“He is going to seal us in?
In there?
”
Rosemary whispered from behind.

He sheds bitter, scalding tears, and thou
reposest

unregarding his affliction? He is in despair,
and thou

no longer openest thy arms to him as an
asylum from his grief?

Wake Not the Dead

Johann Ludwig Tieck

Chapter 5

Lightening flashed in the distance and the
roll of thunder soon followed. Tess heard one of the girls
squeak.

It was going to be a very long night and she
would be lucky if the three didn’t insist on sleeping with her.

They stepped into the portico just as an
older woman was intent on pushing the door closed. She was small
and round with her hair in disarray. Wesley held up the lantern so
she could recognize them while he studied her appearance from head
to toe. If Tess wasn’t mistaken, Wesley actually tisked before he
moved on. The harried servant harrumphed and turned away while her
hands went to her head to smooth the loose wisps of hair.

“Lord Atwood!” she cried when she saw her
employer. “We were so worried about you, being out in the storm and
all.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Zobard. I was lucky enough
to gain access to the family tomb when the storm blew in.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, or perhaps it
was fright. Tess was not sure.

“Well,” she said when she finally gained her
composure, “lucky for you that you insist on carrying your keys
everywhere.”

He stepped aside and the girls followed them
into the foyer. “The school has suffered some damage and theses
students and their teacher, Miss Crawford, need lodgings for the
night.”

Mrs. Zobard brightened as if the prospect of
having guests, despite the lack of warning, pleased her, and Lord
Atwood quickly introduced the foursome.

“It is a pleasure to have you as guests in
this house.” She clapped her hands together. Yes, that was a smile
on her lips. From past experience, most servants were not so
exuberant to have unexpected guests thrust at them, especially in
the middle of the night. Though few voiced their displeasure for
fear of losing their position, none smiled with happiness in the
manner of Mrs. Zobard.

“It is been an age since anyone has visited,”
the servant gushed.

“How long will it be before rooms are made
ready?” Atwood slipped out of his greatcoat and handed it to a
footman.

A grin broke on her face. “We have rooms
available now, my lord.”

Atwood’s chin dropped and an eyebrow rose.
“Indeed.”

The woman wrung her hands together and
continued. “There is very little for the staff to do, Lord Atwood,
so we keep the house in readiness for any event that may
occur.”

“Indeed,” he repeated again.

Tess could not understand this man. The
closer they came to his home, the quieter he became with comments
being limited to as few syllables and words as possible.

“Very well,” he said after a moment. “Use the
four rooms at the south end. I prefer them as far away from my
chambers as possible.” He turned on his heel and without further
comment, stalked down the hall and disappeared into a room at the
end.

Why had he bothered to invite them in the
first place if they were going to be such a disruption? It was
Atwood, after all, who made the offer in the first place so there
was no cause for him to be terse with them now.

Tess shook the thoughts from her head and
turned toward the servants. They would be gone tomorrow. All she
and the girls really needed at the moment was a good night’s
sleep.

“Very well, then.” Wesley brightened and
clasped his hands together. “Mrs. Zobard will show you to your
rooms. Ring if you need anything.”

He turned and walked after his lordship.

“Come along, ladies.” Mrs. Zobard, with a
black iron, scroll decorated candelabra, ancient and ornate, in her
hands, led them to a staircase off the entry way. Tess wished she
could see the décor, but she couldn’t see further ahead than ten
feet. Their only light was what Mrs. Zobard carried.

The housekeeper mounted the stairs and her
candles cast shadows along what appeared to be a dark paneled wall.
The girls shrank together, their shadows mingling to make them
appear as one, and slowly followed the housekeeper.

At the top of the stairs Mrs. Zobard turned
left and continued down the dark corridor. Tess could not tell the
color, but her shoes sank into the softness of the carpet beneath
her.

“Don’t be bothered by Lord Atwood wanting you
far away. He’s just is sensitive to noises, is all, and he hasn’t
had guests since before he left for the Continent.”

Despite the housekeeper’s explanation, Tess
knew her students were inventing more nefarious reasons why he
wanted them far away. No doubt it had something to do with avoiding
the temptation to drink their blood. She snorted at her own
thoughts as she followed the housekeeper down the hall.