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One corner of his mouth tilted. “You could have simply told me.”
Her insides fluttered, and she tried not to fidget. “I was concerned it might make you uncomfortable if you knew you had been observed.”
A breath of laughter escaped him. “You’re probably right.” His amusement faded into solemnity. “I know that message might have been nothing more than some idiotic prank, but it frightened you and, well, I had to be sure you were safe.”
You…not the school, not the children—you. Shock stole speech from her lips as he went on.
“I hope knowing I was there gave you some comfort, that it made you feel safer.” His face colored under her stunned gaze. “I don’t suppose it’s necessary now, really. It’s been weeks, and nothing untoward has happened, so I’ll just—”
Jacqueline tried to no avail to blink away the tears welling in her eyes. On impulse, she leaned up and kissed him first on one cheek and then the other. “Thank you,” she whispered at his ear before retreating to find a kerchief.
A small, strangled sound issued from Woodson, and she looked up to see complete astonishment written on his face. Laughing a little, she dabbed at her brimming eyes. “Forgive me; I sometimes forget I am no longer in France.” Heat suffused her cheeks. “Your compassion overwhelms me. I’m unused to people inconveniencing themselves on my behalf.”
His features softened. “It saddens me to hear you say it.” Blinking, he cleared his throat and looked away. “Anyway, I’ll stand down now that the matter appears to be resolved.”
“Of course,” she replied at once, embarrassed to have breached English propriety and mortified to find her lips still tingling with the memory of his stubble against them. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew her ring of keys, detached one, and proffered it to him.
“What’s this?” he asked, his eyes wary.
“You won’t need to break in again,” she said, extending the key toward him. “Now you may enter whenever you wish to look at the students’ files—with your word that you will without fail lock this door when finished and say nothing of what you learn here to anyone save me.”
His eyes widened for a moment, incredulous, but then he seemed to accept that she’d actually said it. “But don’t you need this?” he asked, taking the key.
“I have another, as do Mrs. Sloane and Dr. Horton. That one belonged to Mrs. Farrow. I would like you to be its keeper now.”
…
Well, I’ll be damned. Will’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. He’d broken into a locked room, rifled through forbidden files, and now she was handing him the key and giving him permission to read everything in it at his leisure.
And she kissed me.
Above everything else, that fact loomed large. He’d been kissed plenty of times, but never before had a kiss—especially one on the bloody cheeks—turned him inside out. That, more than anything else today, unsettled him. Deeply.
The warmth of her skin as her soft cheek had pressed against his, the silken texture of her lips as they’d brushed his jaw, her clean lemony scent, and the light pressure of her body against his were enough to inspire wildly inappropriate thoughts. But learning the truth of her had transformed his perception, intensifying an already dangerous attraction.
“Beautiful” didn’t even begin to describe this woman. The soul that shone in her hazel eyes was infinitely gentle, yet fierce as fire. When it came to this school and these children, she was like a tigress protecting her cubs. She genuinely cared for—no, loved—them. Like a mother.
He realized she was looking at him expectantly. “I—I’m not sure what—thank you,” he finished lamely, pocketing the still-warm key. “I don’t feel I deserve such faith, considering my conduct. I ought to have asked you directly rather than coming in here uninvited.”
A tiny smile curled the corners of her perfect mouth. “I doubt I would have told you what you wanted to know—not all of it. I admit to having considered it, but my fear was too great.”
“And now?”
“I’m no longer afraid. You’ve proven yourself worthy, Monsieur Woodson. Welcome to our family.”
Worthy. He’d always thought himself a good man, but despite knowing he’d come here with an honorable purpose, Will now felt soiled and undeserving of such praise. He longed to tell her the truth, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he watched her straighten the papers he’d displaced.
“The students will be returning to their classrooms soon,” she said without looking up.
Guilt pressed down on his shoulders. “Best I go then and be sure all is ready.” He turned to go, but stopped at the threshold. “I want you to know I’m honored by your trust,” he said softly. “I won’t disappoint you.” Before she could answer, he fled, wondering what mad impulse had driven him to say such a thing.
A few minutes later as he was wiping the children’s slates clean, he knew what he had to do. I could not have been more wrong—about everything. Gonson had to be told this had been a false lead.
His employer would pull him out and assign him a new case, of course. The idea of leaving pained Will, but better that than for him to bring down destruction on all here. He decided to keep quiet regarding the Archangel’s involvement with the school, as well. If indeed it was the Archangel. A child’s whisper and an ambiguous seal weren’t proof absolute.
Sins of omission, Danbury?
He let out a snort. Until today, he’d thought those who followed the law were in the right, while those who broke it were in the wrong. Now he realized it wasn’t that simple.
