“I don’t think Lord Sommerset had thought about it before accepting my offer to provide knowledge on philosophy, but I’m fortunate that he has stepped in to ensure all interactions with my students are chaperoned.”
Mr. Billings swung a straight-backed chair around, straddled it, and rested his bulky arms upon the back. His round hazel eyes gleamed with good humor. “Including you, there’s only five of us manly types, not including the duke, of course. I instruct the women on how to defend themselves in case they’re attacked, as well as how to avoid uncertain circumstances.”
Surprised by that information, Christopher sat again. “I’ve never heard of such a subject.”
“I don’t think there’s another like it, for these aristocratic types. But the duchess was adamant that the ladies be able to handle themselves should a dangerous situation arise. I have to tell you, I was a bit shocked myself when she found me.”
“Found you? Do you mean because of your qualifications?”
The man nodded, though his very short-cropped black hair didn’t move at all. “You may be too young to remember, but I was a well-known pugilist in my day.”
Since he’d never followed the sport and only participated in it while attending Oxford, Christopher didn’t recognize Mr. Billings, but based on what he knew about pugilism, he was duly impressed. “It appears the duchess only hires the most knowledgeable of instructors.” It also appeared that the duchess had designed the entire curriculum.
“That she does. Me missus—I mean,mymissus—was pleased as punch that a duchess visited us.” Mr. Billings shook his head. “I’m supposed to be practicing talking better. Mrs. Kingman, the lady that teaches stories, has been helping me.”
“You sound like a true self-made man.”
“I don’t know nothing about that. I’ve had a lot of help, and my mother and father gave me this body.”
Christopher held back a grimace that he’d used such a new term asself-made manwith the former pugilist. “I meant only that you have made the most of your own attributes and are quite a successful man.”
Mr. Billings sat up straight, his brow rising as if he understood. “Well, thank you, sir. I do believe I have. I’m going to tell the missus about that compliment when I see her next month. I’ll be home between the terms to help plow the fields. Teaching the ladies is good work, but there’s nothing so satisfying as using one’s own gifts.” He raised both arms, showing how well muscled they were, even beneath his linen shirt.
His interest piqued, Christopher couldn’t help asking, “Have you had your estate long?”
“A few years. That 1816 year almost broke us, but we pulled through, thanks to this here work. We’ve a small place, but just what we can handle with a handful of servants. I admit, it’s more work than I expected, but I’m proud to be raising my lads there instead of thecity. I’m hoping one of them will go to school.”
The man’s words made Christopher more anxious to lay claim to his new estate. At least he knew someone he could talk to about the trials and tribulations of managing one. He picked up the letter to his solicitor. “I need to get this sent off, but I enjoyed our conversation.”
Mr. Billings extracted himself from the chair and swung it back to where it was. “It’s good to have another man in the place. I’ll see you at dinner. You won’t have to worry about any students there. It’ll just be us.”
“What do you mean there’ll be no students?”
“What I said. I think I said it right. The students take their meal with the duke and duchess, and we have our own dining room. But don’t worry, Cook serves us the same food and the footmen are first rate.”
The relief Christopher felt was quickly followed by frustration. How was he to talk to Lady Sophie if they didn’t share any of the same activities, and without asking for her? The last thing he needed was for anyone to know his true motive for being at the school. “Mr. Billings, thank you. You have put my mind at rest. I look forward to an excellent meal.”
“Don’t worry, my lord. You’ll fit in here in no time at all.” With that, the man strode out the door opposite the one he’d entered.
Christopher tapped the letter against the desk he’d used as he pondered his options for finding Lady Sophie. She was obviously not a first-year student or she would have been in his philosophical conversation. That meant he needed to discover what area she studied and find a way to discuss it with her and her mentor. No easy task, but the only plan he could think of. Dinner might be a good place to learn more about the students from the other instructors. If anyone knew whom she studied with, it would be them.
After sending his letter off with a footman, he ventured upstairs. The grand stairs of the sprawling estate were as impressive inside asthey were outside. It took him a good while to ascend and then traverse the length of two of the three inside balconies before coming to his wing. He had no idea where the students’ quarters were, nor did he wish to. He’d been pleased to discover that the corridor where he stayed was strictly for the instructors. He counted the rooms, not at all bothered that his was not at the beginning. It wasn’t as if he would be at the school long.
He stepped into his room and closed the door, immediately loosening his cravat. If he didn’t miss his guess, he had an hour before dinner, which gave him some time to—
A small piece of paper appeared on the floor beneath his door.
Without thinking, he yanked the door open and grabbed the arm of the person who had just turned away and pulled them into his room. As his gaze fell on Lady Sophie’s face, he stilled. “You!”
Quickly, he looked into the corridor and closed the door. No, she couldn’t be in his room. Bloody hell!
“What are you doing here?” Though he tried to keep his voice quiet, it still came out harsh.
Her green eyes were wide with fear, but she didn’t say anything. She just pointed to the paper that had been kicked to the side.
He walked over to it and picked it up. “What is this?”
Again, she pointed to it, frowning at him.
