Another young man of perhaps thirteen stepped forward and gave a leg. “If I may be allowed, I should like to dance with Miss Simpson.” He stood proudly, his query loud enough for the entire ballroom to hear.
Hannah Simpson dimpled as she stepped forward.
“And whom might you be?” Daisy asked in a quiet voice.
“Graham Wellingham, at your service, miss.”
Wellingham? No doubt a cousin of the Earl of Trenton, Daisy thought as she gave a nod. Then she remembered what Jane has said about Ariel having inherited her sweet disposition from her mother, a Wellingham.
Ariel leaned in her direction and whispered, “He’s my cousin.”
Daisy continued to nod, deciding she would have to sort the relationships later. Right now, she had another two-and-twenty girls to match up with boys who were now stepping away from the wall and hesitantly making their way to the girls. A bit of shuffling, a few red faces, and several minutes later, four-and-twenty couples stood staring at her expectantly.
Mr. Lusk was suddenly in front of her. “May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked as he bowed.
Daisy grinned. “Indeed,” she replied as she curtsied. She held out her arms as Elias did the same. “Gentlemen,” she called out. “Right hand at your partner’s waist, left hand in the air. Ladies place your right in your partner’s hand and your left on the sleeve of their upper arm. Be sure to leave a space between you. A sort of box,” she explained as one of her hands waved the shape of a square between her and Elias. She indicated he should turn sideways so the rest of the class could see her do it again.
Since her girls knew the dance, Daisy was heartened to see them already positioned correctly, even though some barely touched the sleeves of their partners. She turned her attention to Elias. “Have any of your charges learned this dance?” she asked in a whisper.
Elias allowed a teasing grin. “I may have seen to a bit of early instruction,” he admitted with a quirked brow. At her arched eyebrow, he added, “Come now. I couldn’t have my boys looking like idiots. Some of these boys may end up married to some of these girls.” He glanced around the ballroom then and added, “At least two, I should think.”
Daisy dimpled before turning to Jane, not sure if he was teasing or not. “Music, please,” she called out. Although there were a few stutter-steps and the tell-tale sounds of impatience throughout the room—Daisy was sure she heard a feminine curse—every couple seemed to grasp the basic steps.
“Shall we show them how it’s really done?” Elias asked after they had performed the basic box four times. “I think we can still manage even if the floor isn’t properly finished.”
Daisy managed to hide her initial reaction to his comment. She had been so concerned about her charges being ready for class, she hadn’t considered the condition of the floor. Elias was right, though. The wood floors needed a new coat of varnish. “Do you think they’re ready?” she asked then, hoping he didn’t notice her hesitation.
Before she had a chance to call out the change, Elias had them waltzing in an arc between the students. A quick look around, and she saw that the pairs that included Grandbys and Simpsons were following suit. Indeed, it was evident the eight of them had all done the dance, apparently with one another. Soon, some of the younger couples dared break out of their boxes, the boys leading their partners into tentative arcs while trying not to bump into their neighbors.
Attempting to watch her students while Elias guided them across the ballroom, Daisy noted how uneven ovals had formed, one inside the other, with Elias leading the inner oval and Graham Wellingham leading the outer oval. “Everyone seems to be doing fine,” Daisy murmured in awe.
“Shall we add the underarm turn?” Elias asked, his head held up as he stared at the space beyond her shoulder.
Daisy was about to protest—she hadn’t yet taught her students the move—but he dropped his right hand as he stepped back while at the same time he raised his left arm. Daisy was forced to step forward, remove her hand from his sleeve, and step under his raised arm, all before turning around to face him again. They resumed the dance for another complete box before he repeated the maneuver.
Although a few of the couples around them attempted the move—with varying degrees of success—not all had paid witness to what they had done. One couple near the corner had begun to giggle when the boy, who was considerably shorter than the girl with whom he was dancing, couldn’t begin to lift his arm high enough for his partner to pass under.
When the music came to an end more than a half-hour later, the girls all curtsied to the boys’ bows and returned to the walls along which they had been lined up earlier.
“Very good, everyone.” Daisy turned to the headmaster. “Do we have time for the cotillion?”
He dared a glance at his chronometer. “Doubtful. However, I promise my boys shall be ready for it. Say... Friday next?”
Daisy nodded. “We shall be ready.” She turned and dismissed the class.
The boys waited until all the girls had taken their leave before they filed out the door. Elias gave a deep bow, and Daisy responded with a curtsy. “Thank you, Mr. Lusk.” He followed his charges out the door while Daisy hurried over to Jane.
“Did you see any of it?”
Jane grinned. “As much as I could. They all did so well,” she gushed. “You do realize you may cause a scandal if you do this again, though.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Daisy asked, her good humor quickly disappearing.
“The waltz, I mean,” Jane replied. “I rather imagine there are some parents who would rather not have their daughters dancing it with boys just yet.” She gathered up the sheets of music into one of her arms. “But there are others who are probably relieved they’re learning it here rather than at Almack’s.”
Although she had never been to Almack’s, Daisy had heard about the business that hosted subscription dances on Wednesday nights. With four patronesses deciding whom among the young ladies could be permitted to dance a waltz, it seemed rather arrogant to her. “I shall be on my guard then,” Daisy replied. “Mr. Lusk says they will be back next Friday. For the cotillion.”
Jane gave a nod. “I shall be ready with appropriate music,” she replied.
“I wish the floor could be refinished by then,” Daisy murmured. “Mr. Lusk mentioned its poor condition.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s on Mrs. Streater’s list,” Jane countered. “There was a man here about it a few weeks ago. Taking measurements.”
Daisy inhaled and wondered which entry in the odd ledger had to do with refinishing the ballroom floor. “Do you know who it was? Or the company he was with?”
“I’m afraid I don’t. He left just as I arrived to play for Diana’s class.”
The headmistress allowed a nod. “I’ll see if I can’t sort it,” Daisy murmured. “Can you come have tea?”
Jane looked as if she were tempted, but she shook her head. “I’ve a table I need to finish painting for this afternoon’s class. By the way, how are you getting to Bostwick Place for the tea?” she asked. “My invitation arrived via a rather handsome footman Wednesday afternoon.”
“As did mine,” Daisy said as she walked out of the ballroom with the art teacher. “Share a hackney with me? I’ve already made arrangements for after the tea, though.”
Jane arched a brow. “Ooh. An assignation, perhaps?” she teased.
Daisy gave her a quelling glance. “More like the theatre,” she replied. “Lady Bostwick invited me.”
“Ah,” Jane murmured. “Then I shall see you on the morrow.” She hurried off to her classroom while Daisy made her way back to Omega House.
She had a ledger to study.
Chapter 29
A Visit from the Owner
Later that afternoon
Teddy Streater entered Omega House and paused a moment before making his way to the door directly across from the vestibule—the door that would take him into Miss Albright’s office. A door tha
t was wide open, apparently because she was in the office.
Despite having paid a visit on Wednesday—he had managed to time his arrival at teatime—and learning she was getting on just fine, Teddy had thought to wait until Saturday’s tea before seeing her again.
Then he had spent the last four nights imagining her at the very moment he closed his eyes. Sleep eluded him as visions of her formed in his mind’s eye. Visions of her wearing next to nothing. Visions of her lying in his bed, beckoning him to join her. Visions of her beneath him as he made mad, passionate love to her.
And this morning?
A vision of waking up to find her nestled against the side of his body, her head resting in the small of his shoulder. A vision of him holding her in his arms—both of them—as they kissed one another.
That last thought had him sitting up in bed, cursing under his breath when he remembered he had spent the entire night with a cockstand tenting his bed linens.
Unfortunately, his valet was in his bedchamber, about to open the drapes. “Sir? Is something amiss?” Perkins had asked.
Of course it is. My arm is missing, he had nearly replied. Instead, he simply shook his head and said he had just awoken from a bad dream.
Liar!
Even now, on such a fine afternoon as this, without a cloud in the sky and all in readiness for tomorrow’s tea, the thought of waking up next to the rather prim Miss Albright had him a bit aroused. He paused before he stepped over the threshold, his attention at first on the door. At his request, a sign painter had lettered “Miss Albright” on a placard and mounted it on the white painted door just the day before. Then he turned his attention to the woman who had haunted his dreams for the past four nights.
Well, haunted wasn’t quite the right word. Blessed was probably more appropriate. Haunted would have been if his valet had been featured in his dreams instead of the lovely brunette who sat at the oversized desk gazing at a ledger. She held a quill in one hand as she studied the page before her, her concentration so utterly complete, she didn’t seem to be aware of him.
Such devotion to her work! Such single-minded focus! Such attention to detail!
Or perhaps she was treating him like a recalcitrant student, ignoring him until he made his presence known by knocking on the door and requesting a moment of her time.
Teddy was about to do just that when Daisy inhaled sharply.
“Oh!” she said, just before she quickly rose to her feet. "Why, good afternoon, Mr. Streater,” she said, sounding a bit startled. “To what do I owe this honor?”
Daisy hoped she hadn’t been displaying the expression of a love-sick school girl just then. Her thoughts had been on the very man who stood before her. The rather dapper gentleman who was wearing an obviously new suit of clothes, the topcoat and his wooden arm making it appear as if he hadn’t lost an arm at all.
But she hadn’t been imagining him dressed. She had been thinking of what he might look like wearing nothing at all, his fencer’s body lean and muscled. His torso displaying the ridges of abdominal muscles evident in men who exercised regularly. His upper left arm bulging when he bent his elbow to lift her onto his bed. The nest of curls at the top of his thick thighs and the turgid manhood he was about to plunge into her warm and welcoming body.
Sure her hardening nipples might make themselves apparent through her stays and the muslin of her round gown, Daisy dipped a deep curtsy and concentrated on why the owner of Warwick’s would be paying her a call today.
Sorry he had interrupted her studious perusal of a ledger, Teddy quickly bowed and said, “Please, accept my apology. I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh, no apologies are necessary, Mr. Streater,” Daisy said with a shake of her head. “Actually, your arrival is most welcome.”
Teddy’s heart soared, and his cock would have, too, but he forced himself to think of his mother just then. She had been the author of that bedeviling ledger that seemed to possess Miss Albright’s complete and total attention only a moment ago. “It is?” he replied, surprise evident in his voice.
Daisy waved him over to the desk. “After I spoke with Miss Betterman—”
“Which one is she again?”
“The art teacher. Mr. Jenkins’ future wife, if things go well over the next few days,” Daisy added with an arched eyebrow.
Teddy blinked. “Why, Miss Albright, are you... are you playing matchmaker?” he asked, wondering if perhaps Lady Bostwick had considered Miss Albright for the position of matchmaker at the charity she had mentioned wishing to start. Apparently there was already a shingle above the door announcing the new enterprise.
Daisy frowned. “Not exactly. Mr. Jenkins has been sweet on her for a long time, and he just needed to be told she was of the same mind about him,” she explained. “She and Miss Anders—”
“The French instructor?” Teddy interrupted, one brow cocked in query.
“The very same. With last Sunday’s rains, the ceilings in all the classrooms were leaking—”
“All of them?” Teddy asked in alarm.
“Indeed. But it’s been going on long enough that there are buckets in place all the time to collect the water. Mr. Jenkins sees to emptying the buckets—”
“Why hasn’t a... a maintenance man seen to the roof?” he asked, mostly to himself. Certainly his mother would have been aware of the problem, especially if the buckets seemed to be a permanent fixture in the classrooms.
Daisy took a deep breath and held it a moment. When Teddy noticed, he gave a shake of his head. “Please, continue. I shall wait until you are completely finished before I say another word,” he promised, feeling just then like a recalcitrant student.
“There is no maintenance man on the payroll,” Daisy stated, one finger tapping on the ledger containing the payroll figures. “However...” She paused a moment, sure he was about to ask a question. When Teddy merely gave her an expectant look, she continued. “Miss Betterman informed me before classes on Tuesday that Mrs. Streater had promised all the roofs would be repaired. That she had already hired a Mr. Thatcher to see to it. He provided a quote for the work several months ago, and he and his crew of workman are scheduled to begin the repairs on the morrow.”
Teddy blinked. “You hired him?” He was about to admonish her for not consulting with him first. The repairs might cost hundreds of pounds!
Daisy furrowed a brow. “Of course not, Mr. Streater. I wouldn’t have done such a thing without your approval,” she insisted. “Mrs. Streater did. Several months ago, it seems. Mr. Thatcher’s schedule is just now allowing him to do the work here at Warwick’s. He paid a call Tuesday afternoon to confirm he would be replacing the roofs over the next month or so.”
Replacing the roofs? Not just repairing them? Why this might cost me more than a few hundred pounds!
His breathing suddenly difficult, Teddy stared at Daisy. On the one hand, he wanted to kiss her because she was doing the very job he had no desire to do, and on the other—well, there was no other, but if he had another hand, he would use it to close the damned door and kiss her just because he was so overcome with desire for her.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Then he remembered what she had said and frowned. “I don’t suppose Mrs. Streater has already paid Mr. Thatcher?” he asked with too much hope in his voice.
Daisy shook her head. “He expects payment at the end of the month,” she replied. “He said that Mrs. Streater had his estimate along with several others—”
“Others?” Teddy repeated, once again suffering from a lack of air.
Nodding, Daisy used a forefinger to point to the series of entries in the ledger on her desk. “I believe I have sorted the ledger you mentioned having trouble understanding.” She beckoned him to stand next to her with one crooked finger.
At first thrilled at the thought she was inviting him to stand next to her behind the desk, Teddy stood up. Why, he would go wherever she wanted him to go. He would probably walk off one of the cliffs
of Dover if she bade him to do so.
Then he winced, remembering he hadn’t been able to decipher the ledger the first day he had looked over his mother’s books.
When he was standing next to her, Daisy began her explanation. “The ‘T and S’ refers to Thatcher and Sons, and the amount written here is how much it will cost to replace the roofs,” she said as she made sure her fingertip was next to the entry. “According to Mr. Thatcher, the roofs are beyond repair and must be completely replaced.”
Hesitant to look, Teddy took a deep breath before he finally dared a glance down. His hiss was barely audible, but Daisy caught the sound as well as noticed how taut he held his body. A most pleasant scent—a cologne perfectly suited to him—wafted past her nose, and Daisy inhaled deeply.
Teddy watched as her eyes closed for a moment, as if she she appreciated the scent of his new cologne. Seeing her like had him tempted once again to kiss her.
Could there be another woman in all of London who had this effect on him? She smelled of lemons and honeysuckle and other scents of spring. She looked like a siren, calling him to do her bidding.
Including walking off one of the cliffs of Dover.
But, at the moment, she was beckoning him to look down. To look at the damned numbers.
So he did. Her finger had moved to the next line down. The amount wasn’t nearly as large, but it was still significant. “What might this one be?” he asked, rather hesitantly.
“Windows,” Daisy replied. “There are a number of broken panes that need replacing throughout the school, and two of the boarding houses need all their windows replaced. Apparently, those two houses required as much coal to heat them last winter as all the other buildings combined. The rest are in need of some glazing to help keep the cold out in the winter.” She indicated a pasteboard folder that was opened to reveal a short stack of sheets covered in writing and figures.
Teddy nodded his understanding. “I suppose someone is coming to do that work, too?”
The Conundrum of a Clerk Page 21