Page 1 of Her Lord's Birch


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Chapter 1

The young woman sitting stiffly on the horsehair settee appeared to be the very picture of propriety. Her posture was ramrod straight, the line of her pristine white blouse a perfect arrow from neck to waist. Booted ankles were crossed demurely, slightly angled against the carpet, the toes peeping out from the hem of her charcoal gray woolen skirt. Her hands were folded in her lap, long delicate fingers entwined. Hair the color of freshly harvested honeycomb streaked with the palest yellow to the deepest gold hung over her shoulders in two long braids, the ends kept tidy with small black bows though several wispy strands had escaped to curl about a face that was strikingly beautiful.

Though she managed to look calm to the casual observer, anyone who knew the young woman would have been immediately able to ascertain that something was seriously amiss. And know her he most certainly did. Her attempt to take a deep breath had her giving a painful grimace and lifting a hand to tug at what he knew was a tightly-laced corset beneath her blouse in an effort to allow easier passage of oxygen into lungs that most likely were feeling a bit more strained with each moment that passed. When dropping back to her lap, her fingers never ceased moving, twisting and twining around one another. The porcelain perfection of her face was marred by a furrowed brow and eyes that darted to the window, across the room, to the door and down to her feet before beginning the circuit yet again. It was only when a muffled noise came from outside the room that every movement stopped, her eyes locking onto the door.

He could easily imagine her heart pounding and her blood racing as her doom drew nearer with every footstep that sounded in the corridor. He could practically hear the gears in her mind turning, considering and discarding explanations she was going to attempt to use dig herself out of the mess she found herself in from the moment she’d been instructed to present herself and realized she’d been caught.

He’d not felt the need to speak when she’d been escorted into the room by Mrs. Francis, the school’s secretary. After directing her to take a seat on the settee to wait, the older woman had nodded at him, drawing the young miscreant’s attention to the corner of the room where he stood with his arms behind his back, his feet apart, his body as still as his voice. Her eyes had widened, her hands fluttering before grabbing hold of her skirt as if to anchor herself.

“Edward, I can—”

“Remain quiet,” he said, cutting her off with both the sharp instruction as well as a look that had her dropping down on the settee as if her legs could no longer hold her. When she’d dropped her eyes to her lap, he’d smiled. He could have added that she should enjoy the opportunity to sit for as long as possible because by the time this day was done, he doubted she’d be able to find a single position that didn’t cause discomfort, but he chose to remain silent. He was a great believer in self-reflection and having watched her for the past quarter hour, he had no doubt her imagination had journeyed through a thousand different scenarios.

The doorknob began to turn and he wondered which one of those choices she had settled on. Headmaster Melvin Thorne stepped over the threshold, his black robes swirling around his tall frame as if far too large for the thin man. A prominent Adam’s apple drew one’s eye up a skinny neck to a face that was ruddy with obvious agitation. His nose ended in a sharp point above a pair of pinched lips. A rather sparse cap of gray strands circled a shiny pate. He didn’t even glance at the settee as Lucy slowly pushed herself to her feet. Instead, his head swiveled to look behind him and, eyes flashing, his hand reached out to give an agitated snap of his fingers. He reminded Edward of a giant bird, and when another staccato snap heralded the reluctant entrance of a young woman, Edward knew the vulture had found his prey.

Edward watched as the two women’s eyes met each other’s, and was once more amazed. Each woman was the exact mirror image of the other. Both sets of eyes were an extraordinary violet-blue color and both reflected the young women’s fear of what their future held. As if one, both women took a step forward, extending a hand to reach for the other.

“Sit down,” Edward ordered, his voice seeming to thunder in the room, though he spoke softly. Lucy immediately sank back onto the settee and lowered her gaze again to the carpet. “Louisa, you may join your co-conspirator.” Her quick gaze up at him left him no doubt that she desperately wished a chasm would open in the floor and simply swallow her whole. While his ward might be ignorant of what Edward was capable of doing, his bride was most definitely not. She walked to the settee and sat beside her twin.

Edward waited until Thorne closed the door and had moved across the room to stand in front of the fireplace with him, giving the man a nod of respect before turning to face the two women. The time for silent reflection was over.

“Lucille, you were put into my care, and this is how you choose to repay my kindness? You not only dare to flagrantly dishonor my name, but then have the audacity to pull my wife into your disobedience? I will give you one chance, and one chance only to explain your actions.”

Lucy opened her mouth to speak, just to close it when words seemed to fail her. He’d wager that the possibility of their plan failing had not even occurred to her, and all the time she’d spent reflecting had obviously not provided any words that would be of aid in her situation.

The room remained silent, Edward’s presence seeming to fill up all the available space. After several minutes, he continued, “Very well. As you seem incapable of speech, I shall summarize: Though you knew you had exams this morning and had every opportunity to prepare for them, you spent the past week in frivolous activities. Instead of accepting the consequences, you and Lady Wintercrest regressed to your childhood ploys. Tell me, whose idea was it for Louisa to present herself to take the examination in your place?” Lucy mumbled something too low to be heard. “Speak up!”

She startled at his tone, but when she spoke, though a bit stuttered, her words were audible. “Mi… mine, sir. I-I’m so sorry. But… it was only the mathematics one. I…” Lucy paused, pressing a hand to her stomach which didn’t surprise him in the least. He’d be more amazed if she weren’t nauseated having to face up to the fact that her ridiculous scheme had failed so abysmally.

Her voice rose slightly higher, her eyes darting from him to the headmaster, to her sister and then back to him as she added, “Louisa didn’t want to, but—”

“Nonsense!” Her speech was abruptly interrupted by the booming voice of the headmaster. “It seems that marriage has done nothing to teach your sister responsibility. Despite her station as Lady Wintercrest, she obviously remains incapable of making adult decisions, instead choosing to dishonor the very sanctity of Cressington Academy’s halls. Instead of joining you in this folly, Lady Wintercrest should have immediately informed her husband of your intentions. The fact that you say she didn’twant tojust substantiates my belief that she should have remained in this school until she reached her majority despite her change in status.”

Thorne spoke harshly, each word accompanied by a stab of his finger pointing accusingly at the two women.

Lord Wintercrest saw both women shrink back against the settee and couldn’t stop a small smile. After all, he too had attended schools in his youth and been under the authority of headmasters, himself. He watched as the women squirmed a bit, knowing they both had valid reasons for being extremely uncomfortable. Not only did they have to answer to the headmaster of the school, both would soon answer to him at home. He smiled again knowing exactly which man was capable of causing them the most discomfort. His mind flew to the possibilities of their situation for a brief moment, and he then cleared his throat. In direct contrast to the loud, bellowing of the headmaster, he spoke very softly, but his every word demanded the women’s complete attention. Wanting to give his wife an opportunity to extract herself from the likely outcome of these proceedings, he softened his voice even more.

“Louisa, my dear, do you have anything to add? This isn’t the time to remain silent if you can defend your actions. Perhaps you can offer a reasonable explanation. Tell me, did Lucille force you into this scheme, little one?”

His wife lifted her eyes to meet his, her look indicating her surprise that he appeared to be offering her a way out of her crime. He knew how easy it would be for most people to allow another to take all the blame, but he also knew his wife. Not only was she a soft-hearted woman who’d do anything to protect her sister, she had absolutely no talent for deceit. She was quite likely battling with the fact of what would happen if the evidence later proved that she, too, had even a small part in the scheme. Unable to keep her eyes on his, she lowered them to look at the carpet beneath her feet, an identical set of golden braids swaying with the shake of her head.

“You know better, Louisa. I expect an audible answer,” Edward instructed, adding, “and you will look at me when giving it.”

Her head lifted. “No… no, sir, she didn’t… and I’m really sorry. I-I just wanted to help Lucy. She was so frightened and desperately afraid of failing and—”

“Evidently not frightened enough to study her lessons,” the headmaster shouted, his finger continuing to peck the air like some sort of demented woodpecker as he spoke. It was obvious to all that he did not appreciate the short interruption of his speech, and the offer of leniency from Louisa’s husband seemed to suit him even less. “This behavior is unacceptable! I, as well as the rest of the faculty, had hoped that your foolishness had ended upon your marriage. You would think becoming a”—a loud snort of either derision or, more likely disbelief, burst from him when he paused to take a breath—“aladyupon your marriage would have stopped your antics. Perhaps it would have benefitted you far more if your husband’s time had been spent curing you of this despicable behavior! You acted like a child, and a very naughty child at that!”

Edward watched his young wife draw even deeper into the settee, her face red with her embarrassment at the accusations. They alone understood the truth of the words, as well as knew the poor man who spoke them had no real idea of how close to home his words had struck. And while the man had a right to be angry, Edward was not about to allow him to think he was the one in control here. Edward’s schooldays were long past and he’d outgrown any childhood fear of headmasters.

“Sir, though I acknowledge that the girls have been disobedient, I see no need to cause my wife further embarrassment. After all, she is Lady Wintercrest, and though I do grant you the authority your position dictates, I propose you remember that fact.”

Thorne’s face flushed in recognition of the validity of the man’s words. Edward knew he hadn’t gained his position as headmaster by being a stupid man. He’d be aware of the fact that without the upper class of society placing their daughters into his care, his life would not be nearly as lucrative or as interesting as it was presently. Thorne took a deep, steadying breath, visibly reining in his anger and gave Lord Wintercrest a slight bow.

“Forgive me, Lord Wintercrest. I simply find myself at my wit’s end, but I do apologize for any slur I might have suggested. Believe me, it was not my intention to offend either you or your wife in the slightest.”

Edward gave him a small nod in return, granting the man permission to continue.

His tone far more civil though his expression still conveyed his disgust, Thorne said, “Lady Wintercrest, perhaps you can explain to your husband why I find this act so heinous. How do we even know that it has been your sister attending classes at all? This isn’t the first time you’ve switched places, now is it?”

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