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But she had a life here. A life where she was useful. The school. The children.

Who were going to gather for class in a few minutes, she realized when she glanced at the clock on her wall.

“I’ll be quite all right, Ruby,” she said, forcing a smile. “Because I know you won’t let me fall, will you?”

“Of course I won’t, Janie. You’re my little chick. I remember when you came here, all big, sad eyes, scrawny and polite and so, so, so lonely. I wanted to take you under my wing and shelter you against the whole world, you poor thing.”

Jane smiled and took Ruby’s hand. “I know it was thanks to you that Thorne’s men took such a liking to me.”

“They’re all good people,” said Ruby. “And you’re not so little anymore. But still, mine.”

She squeezed Ruby’s hand, her eyes tearing up. She wondered if this was what it felt like to have a mother. Ruby certainly had taken on that role for her. “I must go and start the class. Could you please pack everything into the chest and just put it away somewhere where I’d never have to see it again?”

“As you wish, dearie.”

Jane and Hercules stopped by the kitchen to pick up the sandwiches she knew the cook had already prepared. Outside, the early morning was gray and stormy as she walked with the tray of food through the backyard behind Elysium, Hercules following her. Wind picked up her skirts and played them about her legs. Rhythmic hits of a hammer against an anvil sounded from the workshop. It must be Ned, repairing horseshoes. A distant clucking sounded from the chicken coop in the corner of the yard.

As she entered the classroom, Hercules barked excitedly at the sight of the children. They greeted her enthusiastically, and as she put the tray onto the sideboard, they flew at the sandwiches like a flock of pigeons. Jane watched their satisfied, sweet faces chewing.

They were her only consolation. Nothing gave her more joy than to see them progressing in reading and writing as well as math. The school was what made her so very happy.

Alfie chewed, his face thoughtful, his red hair matted, and asked her, “Miss Grant, what happened? Yesterday, you looked like the cat that got the cream. Today, yer lookin’ all sorts of sorrowful.”

Jane pressed out a smile and made herself square her shoulders, the scratchy, rough material of her gray gown itching in a way she had never noticed before wearing fine silk against her skin.

“I’m not sad,” she said as she grabbed Hercules by his collar and gently led him to sit in the corner on his personal dog pillow. “I’m very happy to be here with you!”

“And where’s that posh man you was promised to?” asked Lily, and the rest of the children gave a combined “ooh!” “We wanna see him. Get him to come and visit, yeah?”

But he never would. He wasn’t her fiancé anymore—fake or real. The thought made her freeze. That must be what the hit of a trebuchet felt like. Striking her dumb, making her ears ring, her head spin. Why was she shocked? She knew what she was doing. A no to Richard had always been the bigger possibility. From the very beginning, they had both agreed there would be an end to it, and here it was.

“I don’t think he’d come, children,” she said, picking up the cloth to wipe the chalk.

It was hard to look into their confused eyes. Alfie and Peter sat on their desks, legs dangling. Lily dropped to her knees to pet Hercules and sneaked him a piece of her sandwich, to which Hercules responded with happy whining and wet, adoring eyes. Other children still ate their sandwiches, sitting at their desks with their textbooks open.

“Why?” asked Alfie.

“Because he’s not my fiancé anymore.”

“Why’s that, then?” asked Lily. “He wasn’t up to snuff? Did Mr. Blackmore give him a good wallopin’?”

The words were funny coming out of the sweet little girl’s mouth, but no one laughed, and Jane’s stomach sank further.

“No,” she said. “We will never fit together. I’m just being practical. He’s the brother of a duke. And I’m—”

And she was the sister of a criminal lord.

“But yer a toff’s daughter!” said Peter.

Jane hadn’t known they knew that detail. “Yes, but…” She trailed off.

“But yer also the one teaching us,” said Alfie. “You’ve been telling us we should always push for something better, ain’t ya?”

Jane nodded. “Yes, Alfie, I did, and I do believe that.”

“So why ain’t you?” Peter piped up. His dark hair was tousled, and his face was smudged with dirt. His expression, however, was earnest.

“Because…” Jane began but couldn’t quite find the right words to express the overwhelming fear and self-doubt she felt.