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From what Julia had shared about the man, he was nefarious, to say the least. Of all she had learned, one point annoyed him above all others—he despised the idea of women learning anything beyond the mundane necessities.
It was no secret that he believed teaching women about history, philosophy, or the sciences was a waste of time. Did he intend to shut down the school so young ladies such as herself had one less form of education? If so, he was worse than Louisa had ever imagined!
“I’ve already considered his offer,” Mrs. Rutley said, “and I politely refuse it. We’ve nothing further to discuss.”
The sound of footsteps had Louisa scurrying away from the door. A man of perhaps thirty with spectacles and blond hair stormed out of the room. Going straight to the front door, he opened it and left without another word.
“Did you wish to speak to me, Louisa?”
Startled, Louisa turned to find the headmistress standing in the doorway to her office. “Oh, yes,” she stammered.
Mrs. Rutley smiled as if the interaction with the bespectacled man had not occurred. “Then come inside.” Once they were both seated—Mrs. Rutley behind her desk and Louisa in one of the two chairs opposite—she said, “Well? What is it, Louisa?”
“I wish to ask a favor, Mrs. Rutley. I heard that Lord Walcott is hosting a party on Saturday. May I attend with you?”
Mrs. Rutley stood and walked over to the window that overlooked the gardens. With her back to Louisa, she asked, “And why do you wish to attend?”
“I want to save the theater from that villain, the knight, Sir Aaron.” She went on to explain what they had heard about the financial difficulties the theater was facing. She believed that if she could garner enough sympathy, the donations would come pouring in.
After completing the explanation, she frowned. “Mrs. Rutley, is everything all right?”
The headmistress turned, and although she smiled, something was wrong. Her eyes were not as bright as they usually were. “Everything is better than all right, Louisa. It’s wonderful. Now, concerning the party, and more so, the theater. I’ve a question to ask you first.”
Louisa nodded. “Of course, Mrs. Rutley.”
“Are you doing this in order to save the theater or to stoke Sir Aaron’s ire?”
Leaping from her chair, Louisa scowled and said, “He thinks a great deal of himself, Mrs. Rutley. But worse, he wishes to destroy one of the few places everyone can enjoy. Especially women! Are we to be relegated to our drawing rooms, working on embroidery for the remainder of our lives?”
To this, Mrs. Rutley laughed and came to stand in front of Louisa. “Perhaps today, and even tomorrow, that may be true. But I have hope to one day see that change. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the one to change the minds of men. And this theater just may be the very place to start.”
Louisa beamed with pride. “I should purchase it and forbid men from entering! Let them endure being restricted from a particular place.”
Mrs. Rutley’s smile fell. “If we hurt others as they’ve hurt us, are we no better?”
Heaving a resigned sigh, Louisa said, “No, I suppose not. But if Sir Aaron learns a lesson, and I can save the theater for everyone in the village, then I’ll be happy. I won’t even forbid him from attending when I accomplish my goal.”
Mrs. Rutley chuckled. “Good. I’ll write to Lord Walcott now, asking if I may bring a guest. I’ll inform you as soon as I receive a response.”
Thanking her headmistress, Louisa returned to her room where she explained to Ruth what had transpired.
Yet it was later that night, as she considered Mrs. Rutley’s advice of not hurting others, that the surefire grin of Sir Aaron came to mind. Oh, but he was a cocky man!
Clenching her fist beneath the covers, Louisa swore she would not allow him to beat her.
No matter how well-turned his calves were.
ChapterFour
Aaron strummed his fingers on his knee as the carriage ambled along the road. He despised being late to anything, be it be a meeting, dinner, or—as in this instance—a party being thrown by Henry, Lord Walcott.
He had been surprised to receive the invitation. After all, he had yet to meet the Earl of Walcott. Yet he had heard of him.
Was it because the earl had gotten wind of his plans for the theater? Aaron had wondered as he wrote out a hasty acceptance. Or could it be that Lord Walcott wished to invest in Aaron’s endeavor? If so, perhaps not all was lost, after all.
Earlier this afternoon, Aaron had met with Lord Wellington, a round man with pudgy cheeks who looked ten years younger than his true age, to discuss the possibility of a joint venture in the gentleman’s club.
Aaron had spent the better part of two hours explaining his plan, and although the man had wished Aaron luck, he had refused to take part.
