Call of the Kiwi (5 page)

“Put your glasses on,” Gloria pressed her. It was true that her teacher was prettier without them, but stumbling aimlessly behind Lilian was not going to make a good impression.

Christopher decided to take the initiative. He approached the small group.

“Sarah? Sarah Bleachum?”

The young woman smiled vaguely in his direction.

She had pretty eyes. Sort of veiled, dreamy, a light green. Maybe his first impression had been wrong.

But then Sarah fished her glasses out of her pocket, and her most attractive feature disappeared behind the monstrous frames.

“Christopher.” She beamed, raising her hands. Then she did not know what to do. Christopher smiled at her, but also seemed to be assessing her. Sarah lowered her eyes.

“Sarah, it’s wonderful that you’re all here. Did you have a difficult journey? And which one of these lovely ladies is Gloria?”

The reverend was gently patting Lilian on the head as he spoke. Gloria leaned against Miss Bleachum. She had already decided she did not like the reverend. He could act as friendly as he wanted, but she had seen the expression that had passed over his face when Miss Bleachum had put on her glasses—and now there was this exaggerated good cheer. Why did he call her lovely? Gloria was not lovely, and she knew it.

“This is Gloria Martyn,” Sarah said, if only because it gave her an excuse to make conversation. “And the redhead is Lilian Lambert.”

“And you’re both bound for Oaks Garden? Then I have good news for you, girls. I was able to borrow a chaise for today. If you like, I can take you there straightaway.”

“The school is sending a carriage,” Sarah said. Everything was moving a little too quickly for her. If Christopher drove the girls to Oaks Garden, she would be alone with him on the return drive. Was that even proper?

“Oh, I took care of that. Miss Arrowstone knows I’m bringing the girls.” Christopher smiled encouragingly, but Gloria looked close to tears.

“But Miss Bleachum, the students aren’t expected until tomorrow. What are we supposed to do all alone there?”

Sarah drew her close. “You won’t be all alone, love. A few girls always come early. And a few even stay during the holidays.”

Sarah bit her lip. She should not have said that. After all, that was precisely what awaited Gloria and Lilian.

“Miss Arrowstone is looking forward to meeting you,” the reverend explained. “Especially you, Gloria.”

It was meant to be kind, but Gloria didn’t believe it. Why should a headmistress in England be happy to meet Gloria Martyn of Kiward Station?

Distraught, the girl kept her silence as Christopher stowed the luggage in his carriage and ushered the three of them on board. As he gallantly helped Sarah into the chaise, she felt the gaze of several of Sawston’s female inhabitants upon her. That evening she would be the talk of the town.

Lilian prattled contentedly about everything she observed the entire way.

“Does Oaks Garden look like that?” she inquired of one building.

The pastor shook his head. “Oaks Garden is a great deal bigger than that. It used to be a lord’s manor, almost like a castle. It once belonged to a noble family, but the last owner died without descendants, and she specified that her house and fortune should serve to found a school. Lady Ermingarde loved the fine arts. That’s the reason Oaks Garden specializes in the creative arts.”

“Are there horses?” Gloria asked.

“Not for the students. I assume the caretaker keeps a team, but riding isn’t included in the curriculum.”

Gloria resumed her silence until the carriage rolled through an opulent stone gateway into a park enclosed by a wrought-iron fence. The grounds were beautifully designed, with rows of magnificent oaks bordering a wide approach that led to the main building.

Gloria felt overwhelmed. She kept an eye out for stables. There had to be some. Maybe in the back?

The reverend pulled to a stop in front of the imposing double doors, and everyone got out of the carriage. As they stepped into a large entrance hall, several girls were rushing about with their suitcases, giggling and making plans to room together. A few older girls glanced over at the new arrivals. Although Lilian smiled at them, Gloria gave the impression of wanting to crawl under Sarah’s skirts.

The young governess gently pushed her away.

“Now, don’t be so shy, Gloria. What will the other girls think of you?”

Gloria did not seem to care. But she took the opportunity to look around. A few parents were giving their daughters instructions on how to behave.

“You must work harder on your violin, Gabrielle, dear—” Gloria heard. The girl looked her age. Would they really expect her to play the violin?

The reverend smiled as he walked over to the reception desk.

“Good day, Miss Barnum. I’ve brought you the Kiwis. Isn’t that what you call yourselves in New Zealand? The settlers nicknamed themselves after the bird, isn’t that right, Sarah?”

Sarah Bleachum nodded, mortified. She would never have referred to herself as a Kiwi.

“They’re almost blind,” Gloria remarked, “and can’t fly very well. But they can smell. You don’t see them very often, but you hear them call—sometimes all night, except when there’s a full moon. They’re rather, hmm, fluffy.”

A few of the girls giggled.

“Two blind birds,” laughed the girl whose parents had just called her Gabrielle. “How did you ever find your way here?”

Gloria blushed. Lilian glared.

“We simply flew where we heard the worst violin playing,” said Lilian.

Gabrielle looked annoyed when the other girls giggled.

“Welcome to Oaks Garden,” Miss Barnum said to the girls. “I look forward to getting to know you. You in particular, Lilian, since you will be living in the west wing where I’m the housemother. You’ll be staying in the Mozart Room. Suzanne Carruthers, one of your roommates, has just arrived. I’ll introduce you in a moment.”

Gloria’s eyes widened. Lilian said aloud what she was thinking.

“Couldn’t we room together, Miss Barnum? We are cousins, after all.” Lilian assumed her most beguiling expression.

But Miss Barnum shook her head. “Gloria is much older than you. No doubt she would prefer to live with girls her own age. You’ll like it better, too, once you’ve gotten to know the other girls.”

“Could you not make an exception in this case?” inquired Miss Bleachum. She could almost feel Gloria closing herself off again. “The girls have never been away from home before.”

“It’s no different for any of the other students,” Miss Barnum explained firmly. “I’m sorry, girls, but you’ll adjust. Now it’s time to meet Miss Arrowstone. She’s expecting you in her office, Reverend. You know where that is, of course.”

The headmistress’s office was located on the second floor of the main building. Christopher knocked on her office door.

“Come in,” announced a deep voice from within.

Sarah could not help stiffening, and Gloria tried to make herself invisible behind her. Only Lilian seemed unimpressed as she faced the corpulent headmistress, who sat enthroned behind an imposing oak desk.

“The queen,” the pastor whispered to Sarah with a half smile. The girls were indeed reminded of Queen Victoria, who had died only a few years before. Miss Arrowstone’s face was austere, her eyes a watery blue, her lips thin. She was smiling.

“Have I heard correctly? The students from New Zealand? Wit
h . . .
” She looked questioningly back and forth from Sarah to the reverend.

Sarah was about to introduce herself when Christopher explained: “Miss Sarah Bleachum, Miss Arrowstone. My cousin. And my, wel
l . . .
” He blinked, embarrassed, at which Miss Arrowstone’s smile became even more radiant.

It was hard for Sarah to maintain a friendly countenance. Christopher seemed to view their impending marriage as a fait accompli. What was worse, he had apparently announced the engagement to his entire social circle.

“I’m a teacher, Miss Arrowstone,” she said. “Gloria Martyn has been my student, and as I have relatives in Europe”—she cast a brief glance at Christopher—“I’ve used the opportunity of accompanying the girls to England to renew family bonds.”

Miss Arrowstone produced something like a giggle.

“Family bonds, aha,” she said insinuatingly. “Well, we’re all happy for the reverend, and the parish is in great need of a female hand.” More giggling. “Surely you’ll lend him a hand in the parish while you’re here?”

Sarah wanted to object that she was thinking more of a new position as a teacher, but Miss Arrowstone had already turned her attention to the girls. An expression of bewilderment crossed her face.

Gloria turned away from her gaze.

“So you’re Gloria Martyn,” she remarked. “You certainly don’t take after your mother.”

Gloria nodded. This was hardly news to her.

“At least not at first sight,” Miss Arrowstone said. “But your parents have suggested that you have some as of yet undiscovered musical talents.”

Gloria looked confused. Maybe she should just tell the truth.

“I, I can’t play the piano,” she said.

Miss Arrowstone laughed. “Yes, so I’ve heard, child. It causes your mother much heartache. But you’re not even thirteen. It’s not too late to learn an instrument. Would you like to play the piano? Or would you prefer the violin? The cello?”

Gloria blushed. She didn’t even know what a cello was. And she certainly did not want to play it.

Lilian helped her out.

“I play the piano!” she declared confidently.

Miss Arrowstone looked over at her severely. “We expect our pupils only to speak when spoken to,” she said. “However, I’m quite pleased you feel yourself drawn to this instrument. You’re Lilian Lambert, correct? A niece of Mrs. Martyn’s?”

Kura-maro-tini had clearly made an impression.

“Mrs. Martyn visited our institution personally to register her daughter,” she explained to Sarah and Christopher, “providing us with the pleasure of a little private concert when she did. The girls were all deeply impressed and look forward to meeting you, Gloria.”

Gloria bit her lip.

“And you too, of course, Lilian. I’m sure our music teacher, Miss Taylor-Bennington, will appreciate your piano playing. Would you like some tea, Miss Bleachum? Reverend? The girls can make their way downstairs now. Miss Barnum will show them to their rooms.”

“Oh right, I’ll be living in the west wing,” Lilian said. She had already forgotten that she was not to speak before being spoken to. “I’ll be ‘Lily of the West’!”

“Lilian!” Sarah admonished her, horrified, while the pastor burst out laughing. Miss Arrowstone frowned. Fortunately she did not seem to know the story of “Lily of the West,” in which an unfaithful barmaid leads her sweetheart into ruin.

Gloria gave her teacher a desperate look.

“Go on, Glory,” Sarah told her gently. “Miss Barnum will introduce you to your housemother. No doubt you’ll feel right at home.”

“Say good-bye to your teacher now,” Miss Arrowstone added. “You’ll see her again at Sunday service.”

Gloria tried to maintain her composure, but her eyes overflowed with tears as she curtsied before Miss Bleachum. Sarah could not help herself. She pulled the girl to her and kissed her good-bye.

Miss Arrowstone observed this with pronounced disapproval.

“The girl is too attached to you,” she noted once the girls had left the room. “It will do her good to spend some time away from you and develop friendships with others. And besides”—again this conspiratorial smile—“you will have your own children soon enough.”

Sarah blushed deeply.

“In truth, I did not intend to give up my profession right away. On the contrary, I would love to remain active as a teacher for a few years yet and wanted, in this regard, to as
k . . .
”

“What do you have in mind, my dear?” Miss Arrowstone asked, sugar sweet, pouring Sarah some tea. “The reverend needs you at his side. I don’t know how things are done on the other side of the globe, but in our schools, teachers are generally unmarried.”

Sarah felt the trap spring under her feet. Miss Arrowstone would not hire her. Her only remaining option was to obtain a position as a tutor in the area. But from what she’d seen thus far, no one seemed particularly well-off. And the town matrons would probably not want to stand in the way of “the reverend’s happiness.” She would have to have a serious word with Christopher. Though it spoke well of him that he was so determined to marry Sarah, he had to give Sarah at least a few weeks to make up her mind. She cast a shy sidelong glance at the man next to her. Would a few weeks really suffice to get to know him?