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“No, not at all.” She handed him his cup, marking how the tips of her fingers seemed to catch fire as his brushed against them during the transfer. “Ought I to expect some?” she asked, busying herself with preparing her own cup to hide her discomfiture.
“I hope not.” He took a sip and sighed with apparent pleasure. “The bargaining piece I added to the curriculum seems to be going well, but many of the girls are painfully shy. They dislike negotiating prices for things. They fear offending the seller. I hope they won’t be so easily intimidated when in the marketplace. They’ll be robbed blind.”
“Give them time,” she replied. “Perhaps I ought to see if Sally can come and speak to them. Though she means it not, Elsie can sometimes appear stern and disapproving. Sally is nearer their age and cheerful of demeanor. They might be more receptive to her efforts.”
He shrugged. “I see no reason not to try.”
Satisfied that she’d managed to convince him of the legitimacy of the visit, she helped neaten his classroom while they continued to converse. His unassuming manner appealed. He spoke to her as an equal, never once becoming patronizing as so many men tended to do when speaking with women. Their talk centered on the students, of course, but it was nonetheless pleasant.
I’ve done the same thing with every teacher here, she reasoned when her conscience poked her.
But none of their smiles made her feel all warm and cozy inside. None of them left a burst of tingling sensation in her skin whenever they brushed fingers. None of them made her heart’s rhythm quicken with a look.
What nonsense, she told herself, shoving such thoughts aside. Soon enough, he would decide there was no need for him to continue watching for the mysterious author of the nasty message. Already, her own upset over the incident had begun to fade. Perhaps it had been only a vulgar prank by some passerby, after all.
She left him with the tea and a promise to continue their discussion the following day.
When she arrived with tea the next evening, a chair was already placed beside his desk and a place cleared for the tray. His bright smile of welcome told her he’d been looking forward to the visit almost as much as she.
If she took care to refresh her appearance before her visit, it was because she didn’t wish to present herself in a disheveled state to a subordinate. And if she found herself smiling in anticipation, it was only because she looked forward to resting after a long day’s work.
It became her custom to stop by every evening, even if it was for only a couple of minutes to drop off a hot pot and say a few quick words, though most days it was more. At first, Agnes had looked askance at her daily request for tea immediately following evening dismissal, but by the fourth day, Jacqueline found it ready and waiting, laden with those sweets favored most by their newest teacher.
After two more weeks without incident, another girl was brought to the school. Her arrival was per the usual—a quiet drop-off in an unmarked carriage during the wee hours.
One of the two servants accompanying the child handed Jacqueline a packet bearing the seal she’d come to associate with her business partner—a sword bisecting a pair of wings.
“Do you have any messages for me to take back?” asked the courier.
“Yes. Tell your master all has been quiet since my last communication. The culprit has not returned.”
Nodding, the manservant and the woman accompanying him took their leave.
Looking at the little girl, Jacqueline offered her a gentle smile. “What is your name, cherie?”
“Penny.” The girl’s brow puckered. “Penny Stratton.”
“Well, Penny, you are going to like it here, I promise.” She marked the girl’s thin face, rumpled, none-too-clean garments, and hollow stare. An almost painful surge of maternal affection filled her, and she marveled at its fierceness. No matter how many she took in, it was the same every time.
She’d nev
er be a mother herself, but there were plenty of children in London who needed a surrogate. Carefully, Jacqueline wrapped an arm about the child’s bony shoulders. “Come and meet Mrs. Sloane, and we will get you settled.”
Introductions were made, and her young charge transferred into Mrs. Sloane’s care.
Taking the packet she’d been given back to the receiving room, Jacqueline broke the seal and read. According to Tavistoke, six-year-old Penny was the fatherless daughter of a young brothel worker who’d fled with her child upon being told Penny would have to start “earning her keep.”
A shudder of disgust made her hands tremble. It went without saying that Tavistoke would go after the brothel proprietor. She’d lost count of how many such wretches he’d taken down for similar offenses over the last two years. Avenging angel, indeed. Breathing deeply, she calmed herself and read on.
Penny’s mother had accepted Tavistoke’s offer of a fresh start and honest work in the countryside. As people would question the child’s legitimacy no matter what lies she told, she’d chosen to send Penny here, where she would have the chance to improve her lot. Good-byes had been said, and Penny understood that henceforth it must be as if she were an orphan.
Setting the paper down, Jacqueline fought back tears. Her heart ached—for both mother and child. Penny’s mother obviously loved her—enough to risk her life in order to save her daughter not once, but twice. Running away hadn’t secured her child’s future. A little girl with neither a father nor an education was destined for drudgery, at best. At worst…
Determination filled Jacqueline. Penny’s mother had made the ultimate sacrifice and parted with her to guarantee her a better life. She’d see her sacrifice wasn’t made in vain. Folding the letter, she slipped it into an empty folio, tied the cord, affixed a label, and placed it on the shelf next to the slim volumes belonging to Emma and Rose.
Gliding her hand over the long row of leather spines, she marked how they graduated in size according to how long each girl had been with her. Each contained records concerning a student’s progress, health, and achievements. Each represented one precious life placed in her hands.
Penny would be positioned with peers from a similar background, girls who must, for the safety of all involved, live as if their mothers were deceased. Just as they’d done, Penny would adjust. In a few days, after her assessment and once she understood the rules and the reasons for them, she’d choose a new name for herself and begin classes.
