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Until then, she’d need to be kept away from Mr. Woodson.
Part of Jacqueline hated not confiding in him, but she still wasn’t certain she could trust the man—not with everything. Just a little more time. It was better to be sure than to take a foolish risk.
…
Will awakened from another dream about her. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her with her dark hair free of its customary restraints, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, her full lips parted in a sultry smile.
Damn me for a fool.
No matter how hard he tried to dismiss his nocturnal fantasies and find oblivion, sleep eluded him. Relaxing was impossible after such a dream, due in no small part to the granite state of his nether region. Resigned to wakefulness, he rose and donned his robe and slippers, determined to make good use of the time. Careful to walk softly so as not to disturb his downstairs neighbor, he went to the hearth and stirred the coals.
Going to the oriel window, he stared down the dark street, following the line of lampposts, examining each pool of light beneath. The only movement was that of a stray cat looking for a meal. In his own neighborhood, traffic hardly slowed after dark. Here, all was quiet.
With the exception of one carriage. He heard it before he saw it pass beneath his window and watched its progress down the street. Instead of trundling on out of sight, however, the conveyance slowed and then stopped—in front of the school.
Who would visit at such an unseemly hour?
It was hard to see in the dim light cast from the lamps on either side of the door, but he spied a tall shape proceeding up the steps—a man, for certain. Was it Dr. Horton? Had one of the children fallen ill?
The front door opened, and more light spilled out into the night, briefly silhouetting the caller. After a moment, the man hurried back down the stairs to the waiting carriage, only to return shortly with two smaller figures in tow—one a child, the other a woman.
They were let in.
Will was tempted to dress and go down to get closer. But Mrs. Hayton had a habit of being awake in the wee hours, and he’d already tested her skill at detecting stealthy footsteps in the hall. There was no getting past her unnoticed, and he wasn’t in any mood to be answering questions.
A quarter of an hour later, the school’s front door opened again. Two adult figures exited—but no child. The pair boarded the waiting carriage, and it departed.
How he wished himself in a position to follow it! Presumably they were returning to their master. Or mistress.
And who might that be? Suspicion ran rampant. Where did the girl come from? Why was she left there in the middle of the night? How many other such clandestine comings and goings have I missed?
He hadn’t seen any new faces since his arrival, but that meant nothing. There could be dozens hidden away, quartered separately. The students might not even know. Their innocence would be the perfect facade behind which to hide a—
Trouvère’s face suddenly appeared in his mind’s eye, quieting the cynical line of thought. His heart told him the woman he’d come to know would never do such a thing. Her gentle soul was incapable of it.
Horton’s testimony echoed in his memory, too. His friend believed in this school and trusted her. The students regarded her with genuine love and respect. Those leaving went to good places. Coralline had indeed gone to work for Lady Dibley, and he’d followed up on Suzette’s placement, as well.
The persistent pessimist inside him was difficult to silence. Just because a few end up legitimately employed does not mean they all do.
Stop it. His head ached, caught in a vise between two opposing impulses. He’d dig a little deeper tomorrow and find out what was really going on. Trouvère’s office would be a good place to start.
The following morning he rose early and was through the door before Mrs. Hayton had a chance to do more than look askance at him. His plan was to grab a quick breakfast in the dining hall before the other teachers arrived, and then, while they and the headmistress ate at their leisure, he’d sneak into her office.
If asked why he was leaving, he’d say he was going to evaluate the upcoming levels tests.
It worked beautifully—except that he found absolutely nothing of significance in the twenty or so minutes he spent rifling through her desk and files. He even picked the lock on a sealed cabinet, to no avail. The only items kept in it were medicinal.
With great frustration, Will went on about his usual routine for the remainder of the day. No new face appeared in his classroom, but he marked a decided shift in demeanor among his students. Covert glances were traded between peers throughout the day, and quiet chatter came to a halt as soon as he was noticed.
By lunch, he was certain of one thing: the headmistress and her staff weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. The students knew about the midnight arrival. On his way to the library after the start of the afternoon free period, he caught part of a hushed conversation that confirmed his suspicion.
“Janie told Flora the Archangel himself brought her in, just like he did Emma and Rose,” the girl facing away from him was saying as he rounded the corner. “He’s still—”
Rachel, the one facing him, elbowed the other girl hard, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt.
Will froze as the speaker turned toward him. It was Isabella, and her face went white as chalk on seeing him. They both stared up at him with eyes full of apprehension. The Archangel… All the hair on the back of his neck lifted. It was an effort, but he hid his excitement behind
an expression of nonchalance as he urged the pair out into the pale sunshine for the remainder of the period.
