Page 22 of The Marriage Method

“No!” Nell objected, shocked.

Miss Corvus glanced over her shoulder to meet Nell’s stricken gaze. Her mouth curved in a bitter smile. “Had that possibility not occurred to you yet, my dear?”

Nell could supply no answer. Her chest tightened so that for a moment she could scarcely breathe.

“No, I don’t suppose it did,” Miss Corvus mused. “All you could think of was returning home.”

Tears stung at the back of Nell’s eyes. “What else could I have done?”

“Nothing,” Miss Corvus said. “Indeed, returning to the Academy is exactly what I expected you would do should trouble cross your path during your visit to town.”

Nell stilled, hearing the unmistakable note of censure in Miss Corvus’s arctic tones. “I don’t know what you’re implying—”

“I imply nothing. My meaning is plain. You had no wish to leave the school. You never have had since your accident. It surprises me not at all that you would return at the first opportunity.”

“You make it sound as though I’m making excuses. Surely, you must see that the events of this morning—”

“Oh, they’re a scandal. There’s no doubt of that.” Miss Corvus walked to the tower window. She stopped in front of it. There was an endless pause. And then: “What is Mr. Quincey like?”

Nell’s heart beat an uneven rhythm. “A good man, I suspect,” she said. “But unknowable.”

“What is there to know? So long as he’s honorable. And his exposés on Compton’s crimes would lead one to believe he is. No one else would have risked so much to reveal the truth.” Miss Corvus looked out the window, her posture as resolute as the woman in the portrait that hung in the hall. “You will, of course, have to marry the man.”

Nell stared at Miss Corvus’s rigid back. She was certain she’d misheard her.

“I will inform Pettiman and any others who inquire that you are already engaged,” Miss Corvus said. “An excess of enthusiasm can be forgiven if a couple is soon to be wed. It will not expunge the crime, but it will go some small way toward ameliorating the damage.” She turned. A muscle twitched at her eye, the only sign of the effort it took for her to maintain her control. “Perhaps, when enough time has passed, you may come back and resume your duties. Married teachers are not out of the common way. You might even live here again if Mr. Quincey will permit—”

“Stop,” Nell cried, springing up from her chair. An image of Miles leapt into her mind—tall and commanding, with his broad shoulders and penetrating brown eyes. A hot flush swept over her skin. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m in jest?”

“But I don’t understand why—”

“You do understand. You of all my girls know what it means to put the Academy first.”

“I have put it first.” Nell went to her, all thought of keeping her composure gone. She reached into her reticule, withdrawing the scrap of paper containing the names Miss Jean had given her. She offered it to Miss Corvus. “I did as you bid me. I went to Whitechapel. I saw Miss Jean.”

Miss Corvus took the paper. She scanned the names, frowning. “And these are?”

“The brothels where Flora Brent is most likely to have been taken. I hadn’t time to go to them myself. But I can return if you wish it. I can fix this. Make amends somehow for having allowed things to go so very—”

“No,” Miss Corvus said. The expression in her eyes softened almost imperceptibly. “I was wrong to send you. I should have kept you close. All this might have been averted.” She slipped the paper into the pocket of her skirt. “I shall send someone else. It need not concern you any longer.”

A lump formed in Nell’s throat. She knew what this was. She was being cut out. Dismissed. She couldn’t allow it. “Send me,” she said. “Let me return to London. Let me prove myself.”

“You will be returning, but not to pursue Miss Brent. You shall have to meet with Mr. Quincey to formalize your arrangement. I presume he’ll be agreeable?”

“I’m not agreeable,” Nell said.

Miss Corvus took a step toward her. “You’d prefer exile? At least with marriage you would have a path back to us. A chance to return to your role at some later time, your reputation restored.” She passed a hand over her brow as though staving off a headache. “No. There is no other remedy I can find. None that would serve the school.”

Nell shook her head in reflexive disbelief. She refused to accept that her only choices were marriage or exile. Surely, there must be another way. A better way. She had only to think of it.

But she couldn’t think at the moment.

Her emotions were in turmoil, her mind in a complete muddle.

“Take dinner in your room this evening,” Miss Corvus said. “Recover your strength. We will plan your exit in the morning. There is no escaping it.”