“Oh, dear,” Wesley muttered beside her.
The girls stood beside her in unusual mute surprise.
“You are not imagining what you see,” Mrs. Wiggons sighed as she joined them.
“How soon will it be repaired?”
Mrs. Wiggons harrumphed.
Tess turned to look at her. She was almost afraid to ask what her employer meant by such a non verbal statement.
The woman sighed. “It is quite possible the entire school will need to be rebuilt.” Tears glistened in her eyes. Tess knew the building had been her former home, from the days when her parents were alive and considered wealthy, landed gentry. That turned out not to be the case as Mrs. Wiggon’s parents had lived beyond their means, as had her husband. When they all perished, within five years of each other, Mrs. Wiggons was left alone with only the house and a pile of debts. She was forced to do the only thing she could think of, besides marriage, and turned the house into a school. Now, twenty years later, she was prosperous and considered to have one of the best girls’ schools in the country. That was, until a tempest practically destroyed it last evening.
Tess put an arm around the woman’s shoulders. This must be as devastating as the loss of her parents had been years ago. “What can I do?”
Mrs. Wiggons sniffed and brought a hanky to her nose. “I am not sure there is anything any of us can do.”
“You have the responsibility of three dozen students. We must think of a plan now, for we cannot be spread out all over the county. How would any classes be conducted?”
Mrs. Wiggons shook her head as if to clear her pain and focus on the immediate concerns. “I was here when the sun rose and have already written to each of the parents. I have given them the option of the girls returning home and I would forgo the remaining tuition until the school is inhabitable again.”
“The financial loss will be too much.” Though Mrs. Wiggons no longer owed creditors and she did have some savings, most of it went back into the school and to pay her teachers. Tess was not even sure there was enough in the accounts to refund so many partial tuitions.
“I also explained the circumstances, where the girls were living at the moment, with whom and which teacher accompanied them. I assured them I would look into new lodgings where we could all live and continue to educate their children.”
Tess sighed, at least Mrs. Wiggons was thinking of other possibilities.
“I just don’t know of any place that is large enough for all of us.”
Tess considered the area. She had lived here for almost two years now, and had also attended the school years earlier, but she knew little of the homes and families, rarely venturing into town. Unfortunately, there was only one place large enough to accommodate all of the students and staff, and he wanted the four currently living there to be gone as soon as humanly possible.
“We must think of something, someplace. You would be ruined if you had to return the tuition. Further, with the funds gone, how would you rebuild? There has to be another answer, one we just have not thought of as of yet.”
Mrs. Wiggons smiled at her sadly. “I’ve already thought the problem through. I am afraid that when the parents arrive, they will take the girls home and we will be closing the school for good.”
“No,” Tess cried. What would she do? Or, Claudia and Natalie, and especially Mrs. Wiggons? None of them had any place to go. No family and only each other as friends. The staff and other teachers could all find positions elsewhere or return to families, but the four did not have that option. This was turning into more of a nightmare than she ever thought possible.
“Tess, we will find a way.” Mrs. Wiggons looked deep into her eyes. “I will not let anything happen to you or the others. On that you have my word.”
Tess was grateful for the reassurance, but could not begin to fathom how Mrs. Wiggons would accomplish the task.
“In the meantime,” Mrs. Wiggons brightened and clapped her hands. “We need to pack up what belongings survived for storage. The stables were untouched, thank goodness, and we will be storing our items in there for the time being.”
“What about the horses?” Rosemary asked.
“Mr. Conner has agreed to stable them for us. He has ample room and promised they could remain there until the students return home.”
Tess narrowed her eyes and looked at her employer. “Mr. Conner?” She arched an eyebrow in question. The man was of an age as Mrs. Wiggons and had been smitten with the woman for as long as Tess could remember and also a widower.
A blush spread across Mrs. Wiggons cheeks. “Do not make anything more out of this than there is. He is simply being kind,” Mrs. Wiggons insisted as she hustled toward the house.
Tess skipped to catch up. “And what is the fine Mr. Conner charging?” She already guessed.
“Nothing. He is doing this out of the kindness of his heart.”
“Really?” Tess chuckled.
Mrs. Wiggons turned on her and wagged a finger. “Kindness of his heart,” she insisted. “I will hear nothing more on the subject.”
Tess knew when to keep quiet, and that usually occurred when Mrs. Wiggons talked to her as if she were a student once again. Still, it would not be so bad if, through his generosity, Mrs. Wiggons warmed to the older man. Why should one be lonely when one did not need to be? Unless ones only option was someone like. . . no, she would not even think his name.
* * *
“No,” Vincent roared, then quieted his voice. It was a mistake to be too loud, but he had to make his valet understand. “I barely survived three of them, three, and you expect me to take in three dozen, and their teachers?”
“I know it may seem like a hardship-”
“A bloody disaster,” Vincent corrected.
“But you are the only one who can help,” Wesley continued unfazed.
“Have you forgotten how much I need and enjoy my quiet, peaceful existence? It is all I can do to hold onto what sanity I possess, and you are suggesting the one thing that will send me straight to Bedlam.”
Wesley sighed, crossed his arms over his chest and stared his employer right in the eye, his left eyebrow arched. “We will make it work.”
“You will make it work,” Vincent corrected.
“Ah, then we are in agreement.” Wesley turned to leave.
“Hell, no, we are not in agreement!” Vincent shouted and brought his palm to his head. He really should quit raising his voice. “You will make it work somewhere else, far, far away from me and this house. Do I make myself clear?”
Wesley sighed. “Sir, after I left the school, I went into town to check on the schools finances. If they are forced to return the tuition, the school will never be rebuilt.”
“It is not the only school in England,” Vincent argued. He leaned his head back against the soft cushions of the chair and closed his eyes. Wesley asked the impossible.
“Yes, but it was Mrs. Wiggon’s home, and the home of three of her teachers who have nowhere else to go.”
Vincent cracked one eye to look at his valet, but said nothing.
“You are a leader in this community. The only lord, and the magistrate. It is up to you to take care of these matters.”
Vincent snorted.
“Sir, you cannot let this travesty continue.”
Vincent sat up and narrowed his eyes on Wesley. “As I did not bring on the tempest, I certainly don’t see how I can possibly be the one responsible to set things right.”
“I am disappointed in you, Lord Atwood,” Wesley sniffed. “For the first time in my life, I am completely and utterly disappointed.” He turned to leave the room.
Vincent stood. He had known Wesley since he was a boy. The man had never been disappointed in him. Perhaps angry on occasion, when he was young, but never disappointed. This did not sit well with him. “How long?”
Wesley turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow in question.
“How long would they be here?” He wanted to make it v
ery clear that while he was giving the idea some thought, he had not yet agreed.
Wesley folded his hands in front of him and smiled. “That all depends on how long it takes to rebuild the school.”
Vincent relaxed against the chair and mulled over the idea. “Who in town is there to get the deed done?”
His valet shrugged his shoulders. “There is much damage. I suspect that most of the men will be seeing to their own homes before they can help anyone else.”
That was not the answer he wanted to hear. “What about this house? Is there anything that requires immediate attention?” That could possible keep others from living here?
“Very little, actually. It should take no more than a day or two to set the estate to rights. Most of the work required is cleaning up the debris on the grounds.”
“If there is no heavy manual labor to be done, the students can set the estate to rights. That should keep them out of the house a good portion of the day.”
“Sir, you cannot expect gently reared ladies to pick up tree limbs and such.”
Vincent narrowed his eyes at the valet.
“Very well, sir, I can see where the fresh air would be beneficial to them. I shall mention it to Mrs. Wiggons.”
“Have my staff determine what needs to be done to get the school finished as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hire others if necessary.”
“That could be costly, sir, and I am not sure the funds are available.”
“I’ll pay for an entire new building if I have to. As long as the job is done quick and right.”
Wesley grinned and bowed. “I knew you would do the right thing, Lord Atwood.”
Vincent stood. “Before you announce my intentions to Mrs. Wiggons, I suggest you have her and the teachers meet with me prior to anything being settled. There will be ground rules all of them must adhere to.”
“A good work! a blessed deed!” – returned the sorcerer
with a smile of scorn; “for me there exists nor good nor evil;
since my will is always the same. Ye alone know evil, who will is
always the same. Ye alone know evil, who will that which ye would not.”
Wake Not the Dead
Johann Ludwig Tieck
Chapter 7
Vincent regretted his agreement the moment the ladies were seated in his parlor. Introductions had been exchanged and Mrs. Zobard rolled in a cart loaded with a tea service, cups and a number of cakes, some types he had never seen before. She beamed at Mrs. Wiggons and the six teachers after she served the guests. “Please, let me know if there is anything you will be needing.”
Mrs. Wiggons inclined her head. “Thank you.”
“It is rather dark in here,” Miss Natalie Pritchard mumbled as she looked around the shadowed room.
Red velvet draperies were closed against the daytime. Heavy brocade furniture was assembled around an almost black, carved wooden table placed at the center of the sitting area which now held the tea service and cakes. Some light came from a bright fire that burned behind Vincent in the large, dark fireplace. The rest came from candles lit in the dull gold sconces along the wall. The furnishings in the room had not been changed for generations. His mother didn’t have the heart to remove the antiques and he assumed Veronica, his wife, never had the opportunity.
“I like it this way,” Vincent retorted, a little too sharp, even to his own ears. However, the last thing he needed was a bunch of females redecorating, thus modernizing and opening the curtains in his home.
The cup shook in Miss. Pritchard’s hand and she set it back on the table and folded her hands in her lap.
“I apologize. I am adverse to sunlight and ask that you understand that the windows in my house will remained covered, at all times.”
Miss Pritchard acknowledged with a nod of her head.
“Lord Atwood also has an aversion to noise,” Miss Crawford offered with a smile and a bit too cheery tone.
Vincent cleared his throat and sat forward. “Yes, I do. In fact, I would appreciate it if during the day hours, the girls remain on this floor and I will remain above. In the evening, I will be in my library working and wish the girls to retire early or at least be in their rooms by nine.”
“I think that is reasonable,” Mrs. Wiggons agreed. “Will we have use of the rooms on the main floor for our classrooms?”
“Of course. There is a music room, ballroom, library, two dining rooms, this parlor and sitting room. I assume those will be sufficient.” If they stayed on the main floor then he could sleep in blissful silence.
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Miss Claudia Morris sighed.
The remaining three teachers remained mum and Vincent wondered if they were ever vocal. So far, it had been Mrs. Wiggons, Miss Pritchard, Miss Morris and of course, Miss Crawford, who had spoken, and in fact, took the seats closest to him. The other three were older teachers and clearly more reserved. They barely said hello when introduced. He wasn’t sure it was wise that such exuberant young ladies were left in the care of those three. No wonder the students felt free to roam his house, and the country, without a by your leave. Miss Wiggons was probably grateful to have the three younger teachers to help. If he said boo to the others, they may expire on the spot. The thought brought a smile to his face.
“I have arranged for some of my servants to see to the repairs and the possible rebuilding of your school. They will be able to determine by the end of the day what will be needed to accomplish the task of bringing your school back to its former glory.”
“I cannot begin to thank you for all of your assistance, Lord Atwood.” Tears formed in Mrs. Wiggons’ eyes.
No, not tears. He smiled through clenched teeth. “It is the least I can do. Your school is an asset to the community and it would be a shame to lose it.”
“Your generosity will not go unrewarded,” she assured him.
Vincent had to wonder at exactly what type of reward, but he suspected it was one of a more eternal kind. So, that made one other person present who did not believe the rumors. Unless Mrs. Wiggons thought a vampire could make his way into heaven. He fought not to chuckle.
“I understand there is something you would like the students to do in return?” Miss Crawford asked.
He turned and focused on her pewter eyes. He had never seen the likes and wondered if they were more silver in the sunlight, not that he would ever know. She also had the thickest, blackest lashes he had ever seen on a female. Sultry and beautiful.
Vincent turned away and decided to focus on the quiet group at the back. They at least didn’t distract him and he could not understand why Miss Crawford did. He cleared his throat when he noticed the expectant eyes on him, waiting for him to answer the question. “Well, most of my staff is at your school, but I have matters that need to be addressed here, before winter sets in.”
“Go on.” Miss Pritchard sat forward. Clearly she had recovered from her earlier nerves.
“I was hoping to have their assistance in cleaning up the debris from the yard. Nothing too strenuous, of course, but small limbs, sticks and such.”
“What of your gardens?” Miss Pritchard asked.
“My gardens?” He hadn’t thought about them at all. Though, perhaps he should have. Eventually, the neighbors may get tired of him stealing the flowers for his wife’s grave from their yards.
“I mean no disrespect,” Miss Pritchard continued, “but I did note they have not been well maintained.”
“No, they have not.” Where was she going with this?
A smile broke on her face. “If you don’t mind, I would love to bring it back to life, or at least have it prepared for the winter.”
“To what purpose?” Why should it matter and what use could it be to her?
“For our botany lessons, of course.”
“Botany?” Since when did young ladies study botany? What kind of school was Mrs. Wiggons running?
“I have never hear
d of such studies for young ladies.” It did boggle his mind.
All of the teachers, even Mrs. Wiggons, straightened as if a rod had been shoved down each of their spines. Good Lord, now what?
“We do not adhere to the teachings that a young lady need only know how to paint, play an instrument, sing, and run a household,” Miss Crawford insisted.
“Apparently not,” he offered in a dry tone. “What subjects do you feel are appropriate?” Did he really want to know?
“I teach math and finances,” announced one of the older ones from the back. He could no longer remember her name.
“I understand math, for household accounts, at times, and pen money, and such. Why finances?”
The woman pursed her lips and inhaled threw her nose. For a moment he thought she would not answer. The question had clearly insulted her. But, finances and women were not topics that usually coexisted. “At one point in her life a lady may find herself alone, without a gentleman to take care of her. She should always be aware of the opportunities available, and to be on guard if a guardian takes advantage of her wealth.”
Vincent had a sneaking suspicion the same had happened to the woman, but he did not ask.
“I teach biology and astronomy,” the oldest one, next to the first, said. At least he assumed she was older given her white hair and severely lined face. Of course, looks could be deceiving. “I assume you don’t believe young ladies need this knowledge at all?”
He sat back, not sure how to answer.
She rapped her fan on the table. “The world is no longer flat, Lord Atwood, and it would be best if gentlemen quit treating young ladies as if it were, or should believe it is.”
Oh dear, he had underestimated the quiet, older ones. He was almost afraid to ask what the last one taught. She answered before he could question.
“Animal husbandry and agriculture.”
Vincent choked on his tea. “Pardon?”
“Most of these young ladies will marry gentlemen with estates. If they are knowledgeable about everything involved, perhaps they could be of better service. At the very least, she may appreciate the concerns that could plague her husband.”
To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) Page 5