To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) (8 page)

“What?” Tess grew hopeful. For a moment she
feared the girls would sleep four to a room. It was manageable, but
terribly crowded, even with the large beds.

“The nursery floor,” she exclaimed and turned
to walk toward the end of the hall. “The stairs at the end here,
the same ones the servants use to access the kitchen below, lead to
the upper floor.”

Another floor of rooms held promise and Tess
followed the woman. The wooden door opened soundlessly onto a
landing. Mrs. Zobard turned left and mounted the stairs. They lead
to an open room. More of a sitting room, it appeared, with various
pieces of furniture covered in cloths. Windows allowed sunlight in
from both sides. “This is where the nurse and governess would relax
at the end of the day,” Mrs. Zobard announced as she crossed the
room to open another door and Tess continued to follow her.

“I know it looks rather odd, but the upper
floor had remained open after it was built, for storage, but one of
the former ladies of the house, three generations ago I believe,
did not want her children too close and the nursery floor was
developed.”

Tess was actually surprised the schoolroom
and nursery had not been part of the original plan. Most houses
usually kept the children up and out of the way of the
household.

“This is, or was, the school room.”

Tess looked at the vast area. One wall ran
the length and center of the room with doors opening to various
chambers. The other, open area, contained bookshelves underneath
the windows and a few tables and chairs. While there was plenty of
room for the girls to sleep, there were no beds.

Mrs. Zobard entered one of the open rooms. “I
believe this is where the governess slept.”

Tess peeked in. For a servant’s room, it was
rather large with a nice double bed and dresser.

“This is where the nurse slept,” Mrs. Zobard
continued.

The room she referred to was a duplicate of
the one they had just viewed. Well, there were enough beds for four
people to sleep. What of the other eleven?

“What is at the end?” Tess indicated to the
far wall, where another wall blocked off the remainder of the
floor.

“Oh, that is just storage.” Mrs. Zobard
hustled forward to open the room.

Tess stepped through. Dust motes danced in
the air and reflected in the light coming through the end window.
She turned around to take in the space. Two trunks sat against the
wall. “Lord Atwood doesn’t appear to store much.”

Mrs. Zobard laughed. “No, he is of the
opinion that if it is not being used, it should be discarded or
given away.”

The efficiency of his attitude did not
surprise her and she rather liked that. How many people did she
know, or had known, kept items tucked away, gathering dust, or
rotting for no other purpose than to have such items.

Tess turned to the housekeeper. “There
certainly appears to be adequate room.”

“With the exception of the lack of beds.”

Tess returned to the school room and sat down
on one of the small chairs. What to do? Then an idea struck. “The
beds at the school will be unused and have to go into storage.
Would it be possible to move them here, into these rooms?”

Mrs. Zobard tilted her head in thought. “I
don’t see why not. It seems to be the perfect solution. I’ll send
someone over now so that the furniture can be loaded.”

Now that it was taken care of, Tess returned
to the library where she set about planning where everyone would
sleep and which rooms would be used for which lesson. She had
originally assumed that Mrs. Wiggons would see to this task, but
the woman wanted to supervise what was occurring at her school and
left Tess in charge. The older teachers with Mrs. Wiggons
supervising the removal of items from the house while Claudia and
Natalie were gathering the girls to bring them back here and begin
work on the vast estate.

She had just finalized the sleeping
arrangements when Natalie breezed through the door leading to a
terrace, a beaming smile graced her lips and she flounced down onto
a settee.

“I take it you are pleased with the grounds,”
Tess chuckled as she stood to walk over to join her friends.

“So many plants, so many gardens.” A frown
replaced her smile. “So much disrepair. Lord Atwood should be
throttled for letting them run to ruin.”

“I don’t think he views the gardens as a
priority.”

“For one who insists on placing flowers on
his wife’s grave
every night
, he should at least grow his
own instead of stealing from the neighbors,” Natalie snorted.

“Then you are doing him a good service, and
that of the neighbors, in seeing that he has his own flowers from
now on,” Tess laughed.

Natalie turned, a thoughtful look on her
face. “He is a rather odd gentleman.”

“I am not sure what you mean.” Tess didn’t
really want to gossip about the man who had given them refuge, but
she was curious as well. Oh, she was far too curious for her own
peace of mind, actually. She had yet to forget his strength, and
how he held her, or she held him, during the storm. Nor could she
erase the intense look in his eyes, or concern in the dark pools
when he wiped the blood away from her face or gazed down at her
when she awoke on the couch. But, forget she must. Attraction to
any gentleman, or any man, was dangerous.

“Come now,” Natalie answered in disbelief.
“He never leaves his home, at least not in the light of day. Nor
does he socialize. He has yet to accept an invitation to the local
entertainments, and those are held at night. Is he above attending
a local assembly?”

“I am sure he has good reason.” Though Tess
could not think of any. Still, one must not judge without having
all the facts. Something she had come to practice herself. A lesson
she learned too late.

“What could those reasons possibly be?”
Natalie sat up and turned to her. “Yes, his wife died, and it is
tragic. But, he is a lord and should at least consider marrying
again. He is in need of an heir and he isn’t getting any
younger.”

“How old do you suppose he is?” It was better
to ask a question of reasonable inquiry, without it being too
intrusive or mean.

Natalie sat back again and played with a
wayward curl. “I suppose he cannot be older than six and twenty,
seven and twenty, perhaps.”

“Then he isn’t so ancient that he need
consider a wife at this juncture in his life. Being a gentleman,
and titled, he has a good ten or possibly fifteen years before he
needs to see to continuing his line.

“Unlike us, who will be considered on the
shelf in a few short years,” Natalie snorted.

“Where we prefer to be, or at least I
do.”

“As do I,” Natalie agreed. “But, what of
companionship? He must be lonely.”

“He has a houseful of servants, and clearly
he does not like to be bothered. I am not even sure why he asked us
to stay here.”

Natalie focused on Tess. “Not
friendship
companionship. The
other
kind of
companionship.”

Tess’ face grew hot. “Perhaps he has no need
for the type of
friendship
you are describing.”

“Then perhaps he is a vampire because I have
yet to meet any warm blooded gentleman that didn’t need, how did
you phrase it? Oh, yes
friendship
on a regular basis.” She
stood and walked across the room to pull a curtain aside.

“I would close that. You know his rules.”

“He is sleeping, and don’t change the
subject.” Natalie let the drapery drop. “Perhaps he has a local
mistress, or maybe a maid.”

“I am sure it is none of our business.”
Goodness, it is warm in here
.

“I am not sure if I could resist, if he
focused those midnight eyes on me.”

“Stop! This is an inappropriate discussion.”
Tess resisted the urge to fan herself and at the same time tried
not to remember how mesmerizing his eyes were.

“Mesmerizing, that is it,” Natalie
announced.

Tess’ face grew hotter. Had she spoken out
loud? Oh dear.

“Perhaps he is a vampire.” Her friend’s grin
grew larger. “And he is going to use those intriguing eyes on each
and every one of us, in the dark of the night. Well, most of you
anyway. Don’t vampires need maidens? I suppose I am safe.”

“Stop,” Tess insisted. “One of the girls
could hear you and we already have enough troubles without dealing
with their overwrought emotions, and imaginations, as it is.”

Natalie slumped back on the settee and
shrugged her shoulders. “Still, it is a wonder. One would think he
would have at least one friend who came to call.”

She knew her face must have gone white for
now it was no longer hot, but cold. Atwood did have at least one
friend that she knew of. How could she have forgotten Percer in all
of this? She just placed herself in the most dangerous, or almost
most dangerous, place to be. What if Percer decided to renew his
friendship with Atwood? What if he called while they still resided
here, before the school was done? What had she done by agreeing to
this? What kind of danger had she just put everyone in? Herself?
What of the reputation of the school? If she showed up here, Mrs.
Wiggons need not bother rebuilding for she would be as ruined and
possibly charged with harboring a fugitive.

Tess placed a hand over her mouth and ran
from the room, ignoring Natalie who called after her. She was going
to be sick.

“
I need not deliberate; what I demand of
thee, is which

thou hast promised me – that which will prove
my bliss. Or dost

thou but mock me? if so, hence from my sight,
lest I be

tempted to lay my hand on thee.”

Wake Not the Dead

Johann Ludwig Tieck

Chapter 8

“Oh, please do be quiet,” Tess pleaded in a
whisper. She stood just outside of Atwood’s door and knew he
slumbered within. She could only hope that he was a sound
sleeper.

A headboard banged against the stairs.
“Shhhh,” she admonished.

The plan had seemed sound at the time. Move
the belongings in and get the girls settled, all without Atwood
realizing the disruption to his household. Once the rooms above
were prepared, it would be harder to ask them to leave.
Unfortunately, they were not even halfway completed and five pieces
of furniture had banged on the hall outside his door.

Something dropped on the floor above. Tess
scooted around the servants carrying a bed and rushed up the
stairs. An older man had one end of a wood frame and seemed
strained by the weight, so much that she thought his eyes would pop
out. Another man stood at the opposite end reciting words that made
her blush. Perhaps the man had been a sailor prior to his
employment within the household. Thank goodness the girls were not
up here.

The older man none too gently set his end of
the bed on the floor and walked to the other where he picked up the
footboard so the younger servant could retrieve his foot. The man
hopped over and fell into a still cloth-covered seat.

Tess rushed to his side. “Are you
injured?”

The younger man glared up at her and she took
a step back.

“I’ll find Mrs. Zobard, or a maid, to help
you.” Tess rushed from the room before he said something she would
regret.

She waited at the top of the stairs while
another item was maneuvered over the railing. Goodness, she never
really realized how heavy the furniture was in the school. When
they passed, she rushed down the stairs while they were clear and
exited onto the main hall once again. A headboard fell against the
wall. Just when she was about to admonish the servant for not being
more careful, and to be quiet, the door of Atwood’s room flew open
and hit the wall inside.

“What the hell is going on?”

All activity stopped and everyone turned to
look at him. Tess wished she had not been one of them. His black
hair was tussled and a curl fell over his left eye. He wore a deep
maroon dressing gown, open at the chest but tied at his hips. At
least the lower half of him was covered. The upper part was
difficult enough to take in. She had never seen a man’s chest
before and wondered if they were all as firm, almost sculpted, with
a layer of dark hair that thinned toward the belly until a thin
line disappeared into the robe, as if pointing in a sinful
direction. He dropped his hands and folded them in front, where the
V likely ended and leaned against the door frame. Her face was on
fire and she pulled her eyes away to glance at his face.

His gaze bore into hers and one eyebrow rose
in question. She didn’t want to ask if it was to inquire about the
noise, the furniture in the hall, or her opinion of his physique.
Goodness, she needed to find some cool air, soon.
I am sure I am
overheated from the exertion
, she lied to herself.

“Lord Atwood, I am so sorry to disturb you.”
She willed her eyes not to look below his face.

“I thought I made myself clear that there was
to be silence on this floor during the day.”

Tess bit her lip to buy time to think of an
excuse. “You were clear that you did not want the students on this
floor during the day.”

His other eyebrow shot up. “Miss Crawford, so
that you are not confused in the future, let me explain.” He
straightened and stepped from his room. Oddly, his hands remained
folded in front of his person. “There shall be silence on this
floor during all daylight hours. That goes for the servants, the
teachers, the students and anyone else you may think they do not
belong within the rules or one of the categories listed.” His voice
rose with each word, make that syllable, and Tess found herself
taking a step back. “In other words,
anyone
with a heartbeat
and breath is not allowed on this floor during the day.”