Finished Off (A Bellehaven House Mystery Book 2) (7 page)

Mrs. Philpot nodded, her face creased in sympathy. "I thought so. So sorry, dear. You can't replace them, though, you know. Even if you find a little girl who looks like yours, she won't be the same person."

"You're quite right. Thank you, Mrs. Philpot, for your time and for your advice. I'll certainly bear it in mind."

The administrator beamed. "My pleasure, Mrs. Llewellyn." She closed the door, leaving Meredith to descend the steps, her mind working feverishly on the question uppermost in her mind. What did Emma want, and how could she possibly help the child when she couldn't communicate with her?

Chapter 5

Much to Meredith's intense disappointment, the ghost
failed to materialize over the weekend. She had hoped that her visit to the orphanage and the photograph would give her little visitor an incentive to return and help her understand what it was the child wanted.

By Monday morning, Meredith was beginning to worry that she would not see the ghost again, and never would find out why Kathleen had brought the child to her in the first place.

After giving her speech for morning assembly, she dismissed the pupils and ate a scant breakfast before proceeding to her classroom for the first lesson. Today her students were to paint a still life—a vase of chrysanthemums picked from the flowerbeds that morning.

The young women were restless after two days of relaxation, and she had trouble settling them down. It didn't help matters when a rap on the door interrupted her instructions on how to add depth to the painting to make it look more alive.

Meredith glanced at the door, her heart sinking when she saw Hamilton's profile through the glass. Drat the
man. He could have chosen a better time to intrude on her schedule.

The students began tittering in expectation and Meredith gritted her teeth. Stuart Hamilton might well be the owner of Bellehaven, but she was headmistress of the school and had every right to dictate when he could have her undivided attention.

Raising her hand sharply, she indicated she wanted silence, then marched to the door and opened it.

"Ah, Mrs. Llewellyn! There you are!" He sounded surprised to see her, when it was perfectly obvious he had seen her at her desk through the window. "I want you to meet your new assistant."

Irritated, Meredith glanced at the person standing a few feet away from him, and stiffened. Great heavens! The man had brought her a male assistant. A young, attractive male at that. What was he thinking? She had enough problems keeping Reggie away from the girls. This was ridiculous.

"How do you do?" She gave the young man a stiff nod, then glared at Hamilton. "Mr. Hamilton, I am in the middle of instructing my class, and I won't be finished for another half hour. If you would kindly wait in my office with . . . er . . . " She glanced at the new assistant, who was gazing through the window of the classroom door as if he'd just sighted gold.

"Mr. Pratt," Hamilton provided.

"Hmmm?" The young man turned bedazzled brown eyes on Meredith. "Oh, no, actually it's Platt. Roger Platt. Pleased to meet you, I'm sure." He held out his hand, thought better of it, clicked his heels, and gave her a stiff bow.

"Military student," Hamilton explained. "Failed the medical tests. He's looking for a position as a teaching assistant."

"Really." Meredith gave the hapless young man a sour look then turned back to Hamilton. "I really don't have time to talk to you now. Half an hour? In my office."

A wave of giggles erupted from the classroom behind her. Turning, Meredith was incensed to see the front row of students all waving madly at the door, while Mr. Platt stood grinning and waving back.

Meredith directed her fiercest scowl at Hamilton's face.

"Oh! Right." He took the young man by the arm, preventing him from waving more. "Half an hour. Your office."

"Thank you." She closed the door with a loud snap and turned back to her class. "Ladies! A little more decorum, please. It is not in the least ladylike to flap your hand at young men. Or women for that matter. Most unbecoming. Kindly remember your station. Decorum at all times."

Several bored voices had chanted the last four words in chorus with her. Frowning, she turned back to her desk. Could she really be that predictable? She would have to take pains to curb that.

She had trouble concentrating on the rest of the lesson, which was rather obvious judging by the dismal efforts of her students. Some of the vases looked as if they would topple over any minute, while many of the chrysanthemum blossoms looked more like disfigured parasols.

Relieved when at last she could walk down the hallway toward her office, her nerves tightened when she saw Hamilton and his would-be assistant lounging against the wall outside.

They both straightened at the sight of her, and Hamilton had the audacity to grin at her as she paused in front of them.

He was wearing a bright peacock blue waistcoat under his dark blue suit coat, and a matching handkerchief peeked out from his chest pocket. With his hair combed back from his high forehead and thick black eyebrows dancing above his dark eyes, he looked roguish and devilishly handsome.

Aghast at her wayward thoughts, Meredith quickly unlocked her door and walked into her office. She immediately sat down behind her desk, bracing herself as Hamilton ushered in the nervous-looking Platt.

Waving at two vacant chairs, Meredith muttered, "Please take a seat."

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Hamilton flip his coattails and sprawl onto one of the chairs, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Hastily she averted her gaze to Roger Platt. He sat perched on the edge of his seat, turning his bowler hat over and over in his hands.

Ignoring Hamilton as best she could, Meredith stared Platt in the eye. "How much experience have you had?"

Platt looked confused. "In what, madam?"

"In the affairs of a finishing school," Meredith said with as much patience as she could muster. "Or any school for that matter."

"Well, actually, none, but—"

"I think you will find Mr. Pratt capable of attending to the duties you described to me earlier," Hamilton said smoothly.

Meredith turned a stern gaze on him. "It's not the duties I'm concerned about."

"Actually, it's Platt, not Pratt," the young man murmured.

Ignoring him, Hamilton pursed his lips, totally unsettling Meredith's insides. "Then, what are you concerned about, may I ask?"

Meredith could feel the dreaded warmth creeping across her cheeks. "It's . . . ah . . . Mr. Platt is of a rather tender age—"

"But exceptionally competent."

"Nevertheless, he . . . " She floundered for another second or two, then finished in a rush. "He'll be a distraction for the young ladies."

Hamilton raised both eyebrows. "I'm quite sure Mr. Pratt will conduct himself with the utmost restraint at all times."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Platt stuttered. "And it's
Platt."
He proceeded to spell it out. "P-L-A-T-T."

They might both be sure, Meredith thought grimly, but she certainly did not share their convictions. "I was rather hoping to have a female assistant," she said, giving Hamilton
the sternest look she could manage. "In keeping with the rest of the faculty here at Bellehaven."

"Yes, well, we can't all have that which we prefer." Hamilton bent his knees and got to his feet. With supreme disregard for Roger Platt's sensitivities, he added, "We have to take what we can get. Pratt was the only one I interviewed with a glimmer of intelligence."

The young man looked somewhat put out. "Er . . . Platt?"

"There isn't exactly an abundance of qualified applicants desiring to work at a school for young ladies," Hamilton continued, showing no mercy.

Catching the sudden gleam in Platt's eye, Meredith had the distinct impression that the young man was extremely happy to be considered for the position.

She got to her feet, causing Platt to leap up from his chair. "Nevertheless, I should like to wait until a female applicant becomes available." She glanced at the young man, who stared back at her with beseeching eyes. "While I'm sure you would be more than adequate, Mr. Platt, I have my students to consider."

She transferred her gaze to Hamilton, whose expression had darkened considerably. Stuart Hamilton did not like to be opposed, and she had a sneaking hunch that being challenged by a woman only intensified his resentment. "I am quite prepared to shoulder the extra duties until a suitable applicant can be found."

"I simply cannot allow that." Hamilton took a step closer to her.

With the wall behind her, Meredith had nowhere to go. Feeling like a fox caught in a trap, she could only hold her gaze in defiance as Hamilton placed a hand on her desk and leaned in closer. "We cannot have our most valuable instructress overworked. Your classes will suffer. I must insist that you at least give Pratt a fair trial. Say a month or two? If there are any problems, you may report them directly to me."

Caught in his gaze, Meredith felt herself weakening. Hating herself for being so vulnerable in his presence, she muttered, "Very well. One month. At the slightest hint of a problem, however, you shall hear from me."

"I would expect nothing less." He kept looking at her for far too long to be comfortable. Just when she was about to suggest he leave, he drew back. "I'm so pleased we were able to settle this matter satisfactorily."

Seething inside, Meredith could do nothing but nod. He might be satisfied with the arrangement, but she was far from pleased. Platt had better be on his best behavior, or Stuart Hamilton would see a side of her he had never as yet witnessed.

She waited until he had left before turning to the fidgety young man. "Well, Mr. Platt. I suppose I should show you the duties you will be carrying out. You do understand, I hope, that the position involves no teaching whatsoever. It is a clerical position."

Platt nodded with enthusiasm. "Yes, yes, I understand, Mrs. Llewellyn. But Mr. Hamilton indicated that if I did well, I would be allowed to assist in teaching later on." Upon seeing Meredith's icy stare, he added hurriedly, "Once I've had a lot more experience, of course."

By that time, Meredith told herself, she'd be too old to teach and more than ready to retire. "You may hang your hat on the peg over there." She indicated the hat stand with a wave of her hand.

Platt hung his bowler next to her wide-brimmed hat, and then stood with an awkward stance in the middle of the room.

Meredith ignored him for a moment or two while she retrieved files from the cabinet and laid them on her desk. "You may work in here while I'm taking class or when I'm in the teacher's lounge. When I have duties to perform at my desk, I expect you to find other tasks to take up your time until the office is free. Is that understood?"

Platt nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Llewellyn."

"And this is mandatory." She fixed him with a forbidding look. "Stay away from my pupils. There is to be no contact whatsoever between you and the young ladies. Do I make myself clear?"

A little of the light went out of his eyes. "Yes, m'm. Perfectly clear."

"Then we understand each other." She proceeded to inform him of the general routines of the school, such as meal times, the hours she expected him to arrive and leave, and the areas of the school where he'd be permitted to visit.

"I assume you live in Crickling Green?" she asked as she opened the first file.

"Actually no. I have been living in Witcheston, but I managed to find a room at the Dog and Duck in the village."

She looked up. "You'll be living at the public house?"

"I hope that's all right?"

He seemed anxious and she began to feel just the tiniest bit sorry for him. Both she and Stuart Hamilton had been hard on him, without any real reason other than their own antagonism. "You have no family?"

He shook his head. "I grew up in an orphanage. I don't know my parents."

She caught her breath. "I'm so sorry. That must have been difficult." For a ridiculous moment she wondered if Emma had sent the young man to her for some reason, then immediately dismissed the idea. She was crediting her ghost with far more power than was possible. "It wasn't Chest House, by any chance, was it?"

He shook his head. "Harmony Home for Children. It's in Southfield, up north."

"Ah." She relaxed again. It would be best if she put Emma Lewis completely out of her mind. It was possible the ghost would fail to appear again, and even if it did, she had no idea how she could possibly help the little girl. The loss of the family was a tragedy, and she felt deeply sorry for little Emma for all she had suffered. She could only hope that the child could pass on and finally be at peace.

"So when are we supposed to go smashing windows?"
Grace asked as she followed Olivia down the narrow hallway to the dining room.

Olivia paused at the door, one hand on the doorknob. "Tomorrow. We have to be at Witcheston town hall by nine o'clock."

Grace almost dropped the tray she was holding. "That late? It'll be gone midnight before we get back here."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Not nine o'clock at night, you silly cow. Nine o'clock in the morning."

Grace felt her stomach churn. "But it's not our afternoon off."

"I know that." Olivia turned the knob and walked into the dining room.

"But we got into trouble last time for taking the whole day off and on the wrong day as well."

"That's because you told Mrs. Wilkins where we were going. If you hadn't said nothing, she wouldn't have known we was gone and Mona wouldn't have found out about it and took our days off away."

Grace felt like hitting her friend over the head with her tray. "I think she might have had an inkling when we disappeared for the whole day and night."

"We could have lied. Just because she didn't see us doesn't mean we weren't here."

Grace followed Olivia over to the first table and began piling dirty dishes on the tray. "But we weren't here."

Olivia groaned and tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. "I know that and you know that, but she didn't have to know that, did she."