The Headmistress of Rosemere (22 page)

Patience tried to resume her normal day—or as close to normal as she could manage.

She led the older girls in their arithmetic exercises, checking sums on slates and nodding in confirmation or pointing out errors. But her attention was diverted.

She tried to focus on addition, but thoughts of her brother and Ewan dominated. How could Rawdon ask him to return, knowing their history? And furthermore, not even make mention of it?

She needed to speak with Rawdon privately to ask him what she could not ask in the presence of an audience. She’d not had a moment alone with her brother since his return. She wanted to hear from him why Ewan was here and what his intentions for the school were. And she needed to hear why he had betrayed Cassandra. She had tried to remain calm, tried to give her brother space to readjust, but that was before he brought back a ghost from her past. Without even so much as a warning.

When she finally finished with lessons, Patience sent her young charges off for quiet study and hurried upstairs. She flew into her room and closed the door.

Her bedchamber, even though small, was peaceful. She used to imagine that the floral wallpaper was a garden and she was hiding there amid the fairies and pixies. Her furniture, although dark and old, was like a cherished friend. The bed had comforted her when she was ill. The chair next to the window had wrapped its arms around her when she cried. It bore witness to her secret dreams. Her ambitions. Her regrets.

But all peace vanished when she heard the click of boot heels on the wooden floor above her—a sound she had not heard since Ewan left Rosemere six years ago.

Surely her heart should feel a sensation besides this unrest. Ewan O’Connell had been her one romance—if such a fickle inclination could be called such.

She walked to her window and looked down at the spot where Ewan had proposed those many years ago. On that fine August afternoon, the school was hosting a picnic, and she and Ewan had been sitting on a quilt beneath the large elm. She’d been but nineteen. She recalled how the sun filtered through the rustling leaves, dappling his chestnut hair. The conversation was as vivid in her mind as if it were again the day it occurred. He’d been dressed in a tailcoat of light brown linen and speaking of his plans to attend the university. He had always been a dreamer, with ambitions limited only by the constraints of his own mind. As her father’s pupil, he shared many of their beliefs. He was easy to talk to. Familiar. Safe.

She had never doubted his affection for her. And over time, as his brotherly affection deepened to romantic regard, she relished in his attention. His infatuation had been obvious, and she, a silly young woman, encouraged him. She had not realized the extent of his feelings, however, until that day. She recalled the pain in his eyes when she refused him. And on the yard that day was the last time she saw him. Until today.

Why had Ewan returned after all these years? Was it really to help her brother? She did not dare to think that he would return for her. The thought of a second chance to have a family stirred her. At one time she had loved him as a brother. Never did she love him as a woman loves a man. But marriage would provide security. It would provide an opportunity for a family. Love might come later. Or it might not come at all. But at least she would not be alone.

Whatever Ewan’s intentions, he would not have returned without the invitation from her brother. There must be a reason why Rawdon wanted Ewan to return, more than the excuse of needing help running the school.

It was silly to waste time wondering. She would simply ask Rawdon outright.

19

S
he didn’t bother to rehearse what she would say. Patience stomped down to the main floor, nodded at two students as she passed them in the corridor, and did not slow her pace until she reached the study.

The paneled door stood ajar, and through the opening, she spied her brother sitting at the desk, quill in hand.

How much he looked like their father, with his black hair, white cravat, and dark coat, sitting at the desk where their father had so often sat. Haunting memories of the two of them as young children rushed at her. It had been such a different time. Such a happy time. Full of broad dreams and hopeful promise.

Rawdon did not look up from the letter he was writing when she walked in. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to come here.”

“What do you mean?”

He lowered his quill and leaned back. The chair creaked beneath his weight. “O’Connell.”

She folded her arms across her chest, determined to stay
rational and controlled. “Why is he here? I do not know what you are doing.” Although her intent was to remain calm, once she opened her mouth, the words flew as if they had wings. “First you abandon Mother and me when we needed you, then you betray Cassandra. How can you be so unfeeling? To Cassandra? And Ewan? How do you expect me to react? Just to stand idly by and—”

“Stop.”

“No, I won’t, Rawdon. You need to hear what—”

“I said stop!”

Stunned, she snapped her mouth shut. Never before had she heard him shout. Never.

He yanked at his cravat. “What’s done is done. I’ll not apologize for the decisions I have made, nor do I need to explain them. As for Cassandra, I will not speak of her. And neither will you. Not to me. Not to Lydia. Am I clear?”

The blood began to pound in Patience’s ears, and suddenly the lazy fire in the hearth seemed much too warm. A million retorts tumbled in her head. But the harshness in his eyes silenced her. She did not like the direction this conversation was taking.

His cheek twitched. He examined the quill, then threw it down on the desk. “I did not abandon you. I did what I needed to do to keep my promise to Father.”

At this, she could not remain silent. “I don’t see how.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do not fool yourself. You knew the extent of Father’s debt. I told you. I went to London to speak with one of Father’s financiers.”

“And while you were there you just happened to get married.”

“That is not a crime.”

Tension intensified, making the air even thicker than when the stable fire’s smoke wove its way through the rooms. Rawdon was a good man. An intelligent one. And a lifetime with him had taught her that if she chose to engage him in a debate, she’d likely lose.
There was time enough to get all of her questions answered. She needed to focus on why Ewan was here.

“All that does not explain why Ewan is here.”

“Neither one of us knows how to run this school.”

Patience sucked in a deep breath at the insulting blow. “And what do you think I have been doing these many months?”

“Will you hear what I have to say before you become defensive? Ewan was the one who learned how to be an educator from Father. Not me. Even though Ewan has been gone for many years, I knew he would know what to do. And I was right. He’s been headmaster of a boys’ school in London for the past three years.”

Patience pursed her lips and looked over at the fire. Angry as she was, she could not look her brother in the eye as he stepped out from behind the desk and walked toward her.

“You are aware of the financial situation of this school. Things cannot continue as they are. Besides, you are not a headmistress.”

She winced at the offense and met his gaze with her own unwavering one. “What do you mean, not a headmistress? What else have I been doing?”

“Nurse? Governess?” His voice oozed with condescension. “I don’t know what you have been up to, Patience, but do not fool yourself. You might as well be aware of my intentions. I am opening a boys’ school in addition to the girls’ school to make money, and I need O’Connell’s help.”

Patience felt as if she’d been struck in the chest. “A boys’ school? You cannot be serious.”

“If this school is to be profitable, we need more students.”

“Then we will take on more girls.” Frustration propelled her to the window, where the cool air seeping in around the casings cooled her. “Father would never have approved.”

“Do you not remember? It was Father’s plan. If—when—he ever turned a profit.”

“We have done well as a girls’ school for over thirty years. This was Father’s vision.”

“Well, Father’s vision is going to bankrupt us all. He may have been able to survive and thrive on his ideals, but I have a different future in mind for my family.”

“But we don’t know the first thing about educating boys.”

“O’Connell does.”

His words smacked as sharply as a slap across the face. There was his argument. This is why he brought Ewan back.

“We don’t have the funds to invest in expanding. You said so yourself that the school’s financial situation is less than stable.”

“I have Lydia’s dowry, which is substantial enough to apply toward such a venture.” Patience shot him an incredulous look, and he quickly added, “And Lydia knows full well my intentions.”

“So you married that poor girl for her fortune? Rawdon, how could you—”

“Of course I did not marry her solely for her fortune,” he hissed. “But I did also need to consider my future. And Mother’s. And yours.”

Patience winced at the reference to herself. He thought her a burden. His spinster sister whom he was obligated to provide for.

Rawdon walked to the fireplace and turned to face her. “Neither of us is fit to do the work that Father did. He and O’Connell are of the same school of thought. I have decided we need O’Connell, and I have hired him to run things. And that is final.”

Patience felt again as if she had been struck. The past few months had been hard, but she had poured her everything into them. Her heart. Her soul. And he was not even going to give her a chance to prove herself. “The situation is not as dire as you think. I have been overseeing the books. After all, someone had to.” Patience could not prevent the biting retort from slipping
her lips. “Perhaps if you had stayed instead of leaving right after Father’s death, you would understand how things are.”

His face reddened. “Do not speak of things you do not understand. I was the one Father named to run the school, not you. And I have taken the necessary steps to secure our futures. The school’s future. And since I have returned and seen things with my own eyes, I am even more certain of the path that must be taken.”

Patience was not about to give in without speaking her mind. “And where do you propose that you will house these boys?”

“In the west wing.”

“The west wing? But that is where we live. How do you—”

“We will build a cottage. On the grounds. You and Mother will live there. With Lydia and me.”

Patience crossed her arms. “Have you spoken with Mother about this?”

“No.”

“She will not leave Rosemere.”

“Are you so sure? She is miserable here.”

“She is miserable only because she is still grieving. She would grieve anywhere she was. This is her home.”

“Her home, yes. But there are too many memories here for her. I can see that, and I have been home only one day.” His voice lowered. “You may not believe me, but I am thinking of you too.”

Patience sniffed. “There is no need to concern yourself with me.”

For the first time since his return, Rawdon’s words softened. “This is no life for you, Patience, cooped up here. Working day in and out. You need to be married, you—”

At the word, heat rushed to her face. “I do not need to be married. I am doing fine on my own.”

“Do you not wish for a family?”

She needed to make him understand. “This is my calling,
Rawdon. This is why God put me on this earth. I’ve no desire to marry.”

“Every woman desires to marry.”

“What a presumptuous thing to say.” She tapped her index finger on the desk. “My place is here. I am happy here.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, things started to make sense. “So this is why you had Ewan return. Did you think of him as a suitor for me?”

Rawdon shrugged. “He’s a good man. And after all these years, he remains unmarried. I never understood why you refused him.”

Her chin trembled. “How dare you meddle with matters of the heart.
My
heart. I already made my decision on that point quite clear, and it has not changed. Really, Rawdon. I will not have this conversation with you.” She stomped from the room and slammed the door, her face flaming with embarrassment and anger.

Did he think she was not capable of knowing her own heart?