Netherby Halls (16 page)

“I see,” Bianca said cautiously. “That is, of course,
very wise, though I can’t imagine why you might think it
necessary.”

“That said, I might add that I had another reason,
but not one I am ready to discuss with a lady,” he said, wondering
if she would take the bait.

“Why, my lord,” she responded, “you intrigue me.”

“Tell me, Mistress Sallstone, is it not wrong for one
endowed with the name Bianca—a name that makes a man think of many
beautiful things—to forbid its use?” Again he baited while his eyes
purposely moved to her full breasts, lingered, and then returned to
her face.

She gave him a warm smile and the concession he
requested with an inclination of her head. “Of course, my lord, you
have its use, should you desire.”

“Bianca,” he said softly, “how came you to be lost
among governesses and children?”

“My husband died at sea, and as you must already know
I was connected to Lady Devine’s husband through an earlier
marriage. I found myself in uncomfortable financial difficulties,
and Lady Devine was kind enough to offer me this position. I am
content.”

The marquis knew it had not been kindness that had
moved Lady Devine to place Miss Sallstone at Netherby. His aunt,
who was well acquainted with Lady Devine, had told him that she had
given Sallstone this position to keep her out of London. Apparently
Lady Devine did not wish to publicly acknowledge their connection.
What intrigued him further was the fact that the headmistress did
not go by her married name but used her maiden name, Miss
Sallstone.

“Content?” He questioned, one brow raised. “How could
that be so?”

“There are compensations,” she replied vaguely. “But
what of you, if I may be so bold? What attracts you to
Netherby?”

“
Beauty
, Bianca. Your school abounds in it.
From its headmistress to its budding flowers …”

Her hazel eyes narrowed, and she responded carefully,
very carefully, “Yes, some of our girls are quite lovely.”

“I am curious though. Tell me what happens to the
girls when they complete their term—those that are not entered into
society by their relatives. They are all orphans here, is that
correct?”

“Yes, all our girls are orphans, each, with only a
trustee managing whatever estate was left to them. Some have enough
to pay their tuition. Others rely on the donations of our
subscribers.” She sighed and did not meet his gaze as she added,
“Most of the girls will go to stay with a relative after they leave
here and will hopefully use the skills they learned at Netherby
when they enter into society and are married off.” A sad expression
covered her face, and the marquis was struck by the depth of
insincerity behind it as she said, “However, we do have girls who
don’t have quite a comfortable future to look forward to. We try
and find them acceptable positions.”

“What sorts of positions would those be?” the marquis
now asked pointedly.

She gave him a thoughtful look and said, “Some girls
don’t have the luxury of relatives to go to after their term, so we
find they must take on positions as a lady’s maid or a shop
girl—whatever is available. Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity. I would like to know what they are able
to do with the education they receive here.”

“They are not thrown into the street, if that is what
you are worried about. We keep them until they are found just the
right placement.”

The marquis got to his feet. After he shrugged into
his greatcoat, put on his top hat, and held his gloves in one hand,
he bent a bow to the headmistress. “I have thoroughly enjoyed our
stimulating visit. Had I not promised myself elsewhere, it would
have gratified me greatly to prolong it as long as
you
would
allow.”

Something in her eyes told him she was too well
versed to be taken in by him. He could see that not all the charm
in the world would turn her head from her purpose. He would have to
find another way to discover what he wanted to know.

She inclined her head and said softly, “Perhaps
another time you will find yourself in a position to stay
longer?”

His smile was meant to soften her, and he could see
that, indeed, he had managed to do that much. “Another time
then.”

Outside he breathed a word out loud. “Whew.” He then
scanned the grounds for Sassy, hoping to find her before he left.
He did not, and with an exasperated oath, he went to his tiger
holding the reins and his horses steady and said, “You will be
happy to know when we get back to my lodgings you will be done for
the day, Jerry lad.”

* * *

Sassy watched his departure like a coward from behind
the cover of a yew hedge, and when he left she sighed heavily, her
heart overcast. What was she to do? Everything she had read in her
mother’s book told her that for some unfathomable reason her magic
had chosen him for her mate. She was a strong-willed and
independent young woman, and yet, in spite of the fact that she
told herself she would not be dictated to by magic, she was drawn
to him in more ways than she wanted to contemplate.

She made her way back into the school, up the
staircase, and to her room, her thoughts at war with that beating
organ in her chest. She was fully aware that, magic or not, she was
more than a little in love with the marquis. And that—that just
wouldn’t do. He was a marquis, and she was a vicar’s daughter.
Although proud of who and what she was, she knew he could look
higher for a wife. Wife? What was she thinking?

It was simply impossible. Even her mother’s family
had disowned her and had made no effort to contact her all these
years.

That he wanted her, lusted after her, she knew—her
dreams did not lie. Her magic put them together. Did that mean she
would end up being his mistress? She felt heat rush to her cheeks
at the notion.

Could she throw herself into such a situation?

She could no longer deny that she loved him without
reason. She even lusted after him, wanted the dream to be real,
wanted to be in his arms … feel his touch, and his kisses.
Could she throw away all her principles to be his mistress?

Sometimes, the answer was yes, and that answer made
her wring her hands and berate herself. Did she have the right to
want more than her present situation for all her life?

Realizing she was pacing, she stopped, took a long
breath, and calmed herself. This would not do. She gazed at herself
in the looking glass. Did she have the soul of a harlot? Was
wanting this one man going to be her ruin? Oh, she didn’t know—she
just didn’t know.

Searching for a distraction, she glanced around her
room until her gaze landed on the mirror again. It had been tilted
sideways from the day she had moved into the room. She had adjusted
it many times, but it always went crooked again. She lifted it off
the nail, determined to set it properly this time, and a swatch of
folded paper floated to the wood flooring at her feet.

Frowning, Sassy hung the mirror back on the wall and
then bent to picked up the paper. She went to her nightstand and
held it under the candlelight as she unfolded it.

On it were just a few lines scribbled at what must
have been a desperate speed, for the words were barely legible.

Miss Saunders:

You were most kind, and I do indeed thank you for
trying to help, but I must do as I am told. There is no other way,
though in truth, I am ever so frightened.

Beth

Faith
, thought Sassy,
what does this mean?
Who is Beth? Is she a student? What did she have to do with Miss
Saunders?
Once again, Sassy was certain that Miss Saunders had
not run off. But here was just one more question: who was Beth, and
why was she frightened?

~
Fifteen ~

SASSY HELD HER soft gray velvet skirt up as she
hurried downstairs the following morning. It was still quite early,
and the machinations of the school had not yet begun. However, she
was certain that Molly could be found in the kitchen with her
mother.

She reached the first floor and started down the hall
towards the kitchen when the sound of clip clop on wood brought her
head around.

“Molly,” Sassy said quietly.

“Oh, Miss, my, ye be that lovely, even at this hour.
Just look at ye! My, my,” said Molly admiringly. “What are ye doing
up and about? Ye’ll tire yerself out, ye will,” Molly reprimanded
her with affection.

Sassy smiled warmly at the freckle-faced girl and
touched her chin. “Adorable girl, but I need you for a moment, if
you have the time?”

“Of course I do, but first let me jest put the last
of the silver on the table,” Molly said, running ahead and into the
dining room. She returned after a few moments. “There, I’m yers, I
am.”

Sassy took her hand and steered her away from the
main hall. When she was sure they would not be overheard by anyone
who might pass by, she said, “Molly, is there a student at Netherby
by the name of Beth?”

Molly immediately sounded out the name and repeated
it. “Beth? Could be Elizabeth. She is in your class.”

“No, she doesn’t go by Beth, only Elizabeth. Anyone
else?”

“Well, yes, but she isn’t here anymore. There was a
girl in Miss Graves’s class—Mary Beth Hodges. Everyone called her
Beth, as there were too many Marys, ye see.”

“Where is she now?”

“Odd what happened with her. She was due to leave in
June but stayed on a bit. She was unhappy, real unhappy and
skittish too, but wouldn’t confide in any of the girls, so I never
did know what was wrong with her.”

“Do you know where they sent her?”

“Hmmm, can’t say that I do, but I heard her once tell
Miss Saunders she would die if they made her go to that awful
place. I happened to overhear her telling Miss Saunders that she
was in trouble and that they wanted her to go somewhere awful. I
remember feeling sorry for her. When I didn’t see her here anymore,
I jest thought she ended up running off.” Molly eyed Sassy and
asked, “Why do ye ask, Miss Winthrop?”

Unable to give her an honest answer, Sassy hedged.
Molly saw it at once and lowered her voice. “Something havey cavey
going on here, ain’t there? Papa says he is sure of it, and Mama
frets over it. Says she doesn’t know what it is, but she says it
can’t be anything good with all the sneaking about and lying going
on.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Sassy said without addressing her
comment. “But tell me, did Beth have a friend her own age, besides
Miss Saunders?”

“I couldn’t say as I really didn’t see her that
often, but I know that Delia Standish was with her more than any
other. Ye might want to speak to her.” Molly reached out and
touched Sassy’s arm. “But, Miss, don’t go poking around. ’Tis what
Miss Saunders was doing just before she vanished.”

Sassy patted her hand. “Don’t worry, Molly, I won’t
disappear on you. But, Molly, don’t speak of this—our little talk
stays between us, right?”

“God slap me down if I so much as opens m’mummer to
spill a word of what is betwixt us,” swore the young girl
solemnly.

“Thank you, Molly.” Sassy smiled.

“But, Miss, ye best don’t be trying to snatch any
tigers by the teeth. They would tear ye to ribbons, if ye catch
m’meaning,” Molly warned sagely.

“Do we have tigers we need to watch out for, Molly?”
Sassy asked quizzically.

“Aye, that we do, maybe worse,” the girl said as she
walked off towards the kitchen.

Sassy watched after her and rubbed her ring absently.
Again, she felt that something was off at Netherby, but she
couldn’t fathom just what it was. Her magic wouldn’t let her look
into the future, but she wondered if it would let her look into the
past. If she used Beth’s note to Miss Saunders …
perhaps
?

Some hours later, grateful to her responsive class
for taking her mind off these worries, Sassy watched Delia Standish
during lunch. She saw a tall, thin, poised young lady of fifteen.
But something in her dark brown eyes troubled Sassy.

Miss Graves observed Sassy looking at Delia and said,
“Humph, that one looks like an angel but is quite a tyrant over her
friends. They all seem to bow to Delia.” She made no attempt to
hide her dislike of the girl.

“You don’t approve of her?” Sassy asked
cautiously.

“Approve? No, I do not. She is not the sort of girl
the others should look up to.”

“She had a friend—Beth, I think was her name?”

Miss Graves looked startled. “Mary Beth? Heavens!
What makes you ask about her?”

“Idle curiosity. I overheard one of the girls mention
how Delia and Beth had been friends,” Sassy said, boldly telling a
lie.

“Mary Beth was older, but Delia was—is just as
wild.”

“I suppose they found Mary Beth a position when she
completed her term?” Sassy pried gently.

Miss Graves sneered. “That is what we were told.”

“Don’t you believe it?” Sassy felt she was getting
somewhere—though she wasn’t sure she was going to be comfortable
with the answers.

“Listen to me, child, for you are little more than
that. I don’t have a choice. I am too old to start looking for
another position, so I don’t ask questions, but I am not deaf and
dumb.”

“Meaning?” Sassy probed.

“Meaning there are things we don’t have answers for
here at Netherby, and we look the other way because, in truth, we
don’t want to know.”

Sassy had nothing to say to this. Instead of learning
anything additional from this conversation, it had only served to
put more questions into her mind. She needed the truth.

She wondered if a ‘talk’ with Delia would get her
closer to that truth?

* * *

As it turned out, the opportunity to speak with Delia
did not present itself, forcing Sassy to summon the courage to use
a spell. She was breaking her mother’s rule, she knew, but what was
the use of having the so-called ‘power’ her mother spoke of, if she
wasn’t allowed to use it?