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A sigh of frustration escaped her. “I have not. I shall continue to post the position.”
“Do what you must.” He bowed. “Until next we meet.”
Dropping a curtsy, she bid him good night and returned to the girls. “The hour is late, and tomorrow begins early,” she said, giving them her gentlest smile and motioning for them to rise. “Come. Katie will show you to the bath and fetch you something clean to wear.”
The younger one’s eyes took on a rebellious light. “But I just ’ad a bath last—”
“Just do it, Abi,” grumbled her sister, nudging her toward the door. “I ’ad to take one every few days while ’is Lordship looked for you. You’ll be likin’ it after a while.”
As she watched them follow Katie out, Jacqueline’s heart lightened despite her exhaustion.
Two more saved.
Chapter Two
Will peered over the top of his spectacles at the shiny brass plaque by the door. La Belle School for Young Ladies. This is the place. Reaching up, he lifted the knocker and rapped it against the plate.
A few moments later, the door opened to reveal a dour-faced, matronly woman. “Good morning, sir. Are you here concerning the textbooks?”
“Good morning, madame. Alas no, I’m not. I’m here in answer to the advertisement in the Gazette.” Taking a paper from the portfolio beneath his arm, he held it out and pointed to the pertinent ad, which he’d circled.
The woman’s lips pursed as if she’d tasted something unpleasant, and for a moment he thought she might close the door in his face. Instead, she opened it wide and stepped aside. “You may wait here while I fetch Headmistress,” she said, gesturing to a bench in the foyer. “I’ll be a few minutes,” she said briskly as she walked toward a door at the far end. “She’s currently teaching a class.”
Sitting, he took in his surroundings. The floor was spotless, and there wasn’t a speck of dust to be found on any surface in sight. A quarter of an hour passed without event. Just as he was about to start looking for someone, he heard voices, and the door opened.
“…and tell Katie to be certain they don’t overcharge her.” The owner of the warm, French-accented voice was blocked from view by the stout matron who’d shown him in. “Anything above three shillings is robbery,” she continued. “If they want more, she’s to tell them we will buy from somewhere else.”
“Yes, Headmistress.”
Will did a double take and had to work hard not to show his astonishment as the other woman emerged. She’s the headmistress? He’d expected some stone-faced, gray-haired old ironside, not a young brunette with big hazel eyes and a figure to make a man’s pulse dance a merry jig—which his was doing now. He rose to greet her.
“Monsieur, please accept my apologies for keeping you waiting,” she said, coming forward. “I am Madame Trouvère, the headmistress of this school.”
It took him several seconds to locate his tongue and make it work. “Mr. William Woodson at your service,” he replied, bowing. The false surname felt all wrong on his tongue, but Danbury was far too risky a name, being too well known in certain parts of town.
She regarded him with open wariness. “Mrs. Sloane tells me that despite the stated preference for a woman, you wish to inquire concerning our advertisement for a mathematics instructor.”
“Yes. Though it was put in terms of preference rather than as a requirement.” He gave her his most disarming smile, the one that had never failed to charm even the dourest matron. “You’ll pardon, I hope, my pointing out that the advertisement has been in the Gazette for nearly two months. I was interested when I first saw it and would have come sooner, but I was unable to leave my previous employer until now.”
“And who was your previous employer?”
“Lord Mulgrave. I taught his children for seven years.” Opening his portfolio once more, he fished out a neatly folded piece of parchment and offered it to her. “I have here his letter of reference.” Their fingers brushed as she took it, and an unanticipated tremor ran through him, both pleasant and unnerving.
She opened it and at once began to read. “You will understand, of course, if I wish to confirm this,” she murmured without looking up.
It was a statement, not a question. “Of course.” He tried not to show dismay over her unwillingness to take it at face value. Most people didn’t question a reference letter bearing both a signature and seal. “Do feel free to write to His Lordship. I’m certain he’ll reply with great enthusiasm. I’ve other references as well, if you would like to see them.”
“I would. From what educational institute did you graduate?”
“Kings. With honors.”
Still perusing the page, she nodded. “Provided your references can be verified, when would you be able to start working?”
At last. “I need but a few days to move my things here.”
Her head snapped up. “Here?”
“The advertisement did say lodging would be provided, in addition to a monthly wage of eleven pounds.” He waited, trying not to show anxiety over her reaction.
