Page 24 of The Marriage Method

I have returned to the Academy. You may write to me there in regard to anything relating to Reverend Pettiman. As to the other matter you referenced, you will agree it is impossible.

Yours,

P. Trewlove

Reading her words, Miles’s brow contracted in a furious scowl. He most assuredly did not agree. Whatever Nell’s qualms, it didn’t change the fact that he’d compromised her this morning—and himself in the bargain. It was incumbent on him to make things right. His reputation depended on it, even if hers didn’t.

Tucking the card into his waistcoat pocket, he strode out of the hotel.

6

Nell folded a shawl and placed it into the open portmanteau on her bed along with the rest of her meager belongings.

Yesterday morning, on setting out for London, her future had been settled. She would continue teaching, remaining in her role as deputy headmistress, until Miss Corvus decided to retire. When that day finally came, it would be Nell who took over the charity school.

But no longer.

Fate had seen fit to give her a new future. Nell had no choice but to face it.

After a restless night, she’d woken this morning clearheaded and resolute. Rather than join the students and staff in the dining room for breakfast, she’d washed and dressed, and immediately begun the painstaking process of packing her things.

Her options were admittedly limited, but she wasn’t without them entirely. Effie would be back from Paris tomorrow. Nell would go to her then, as she’d originally planned to do. But tonight…

Tonight, she would return to Mrs. Marigold’s Hotel in Whitechapel.

Miss Corvus had tasked Nell with finding Flora Brent. Not Gemma, not Effie, but Nell—a person with a knack for dealing with women and girls, just as Miss Corvus had claimed. That was Nell’s talent. She may have to leave the Academy for a time, possibly forever, but she wasn’t abandoning her vocation. Whatever else happened, she was determined to finish her first mission. Even if it should prove to be her last.

“There’s a gentleman to see you, Miss Trewlove.”

Nell cast a distracted glance up from her packing, too lost in her own thoughts to hear what the junior teacher standing at the door of her room had said. “What’s that, Miss Hanem?” she asked absently as she placed a stack of folded petticoats into her case.

Miss Hanem fidgeted in the doorway, the iron gate key clutched in her hands. A former orphan of sixteen, she had only recently been promoted to her position. “A gentleman,” she repeated. “A great, tall, stern man with black hair. He’s asking for you.”

Nell slowly straightened, the girl’s words sinking in to pulse-quickening effect.

Miles is here?

For it must be him. Nell didn’t know any other gentleman who would fit the description Miss Hanem had supplied.

“Indeed?” she replied with creditable calm. “And you’ve admitted him, have you?”

“Oh no, Miss Trewlove,” Miss Hanem said.

Nell nodded her approval. “Well done.”

“Shall I tell him you’re coming?”

“No need. I’ll deal with him myself.” Nell crossed to the doorway. She was dressed sensibly in a blue cloth skirt and a white Garibaldi blouse, her thick blond hair twisted into a plaited roll. Not a glamorous ensemble, but neat, clean, and pressed. It would have to do.

She gave Miss Hanem a reassuring smile as she passed, pausing only long enough to retrieve the key from her. “You may return to the dining room, my dear.”

“Yes, Miss Trewlove.” Miss Hanem obediently hurried off.

Nell smoothed her skirts as she descended the steps. She didn’t use her cane. A night spent in her own bed had calmed the muscles in her leg enough that she could make do without it. It didn’t mean that her limp was any less pronounced. Her gait hitched with every step.

Exiting the manor house to make her way down the pebbled drive, she felt a distinct flare of self-consciousness. Miles was watching her.

He stood on the other side of the gates, looking tall, dark, and imposing in a black three-piece suit and a hat. He must have traveled up on the first train from London to have arrived so early. A one-horse cab was parked not far behind him, the driver hunched on the box.