Frankie found herself quite alone with a strange gentleman. She swallowed hard. A quiver of something between embarrassment and excitement raced up her spine. She was surprised at being left alone, though in truth she could still hear her uncle talking to the others in his jovial manner as the children yelled and laughed just outside the door.

The man rose, observing her carefully. He must be a teacher at the school, but he did not look like any teacher she had ever known. He was tall with square shoulders and held an aura of command.

She had a sudden desire to run…though not away. She had met better-dressed and more refined gentlemen, but none had made her pulse race like the man before her.

“Good afternoon.” He broke the silence.

Frankie blinked and remembered her manners. “I do apologize for my uncle. He gets distracted and all propriety is lost.” She stepped tentatively towards him.

“It does seem quite the melee out there,” observed Mr. Everett, coming out from behind the desk. His blue, double-breasted coat was a tad worn, but well-tailored and his buckskin breeches revealed muscular thighs.

“I am Miss Devine,” she blurted out.

One side of his mouth twitched. “I would quite agree.”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “I mean, I am Grant’s niece, Miss Frances Devine. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Everett.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” He gave a small bow but the words were spoken mechanically, and it did not appear that he was at all pleased to have her ushered into his domain.

“I believe Grant wished for me to assist you with the scholarships.”

“That is very kind of you, but I have no need for assistance. Please tell Mr. Grant I appreciate the thought but—”

Something crashed outside the door, sounding like shattered crockery. Frankie gave a slight jump at the sudden sound, looking at the door, then back at Mr. Everett.

“However, since I would hate to send you out into what sounds like a battleground, I suppose you may stay here until Grant returns.” He dragged a wooden chair next to his at the desk. “Perhaps you can alphabetize or something.” He pointed to the chair and sat back down, returning to his work.

Not feeling particularly appreciated, but not knowing what else to do, she seated herself next to the straight-backed figure of Mr. Everett. The schoolroom was lit only by the grey December light of the windows and smelled of wood varnish and chalk. Without a fireplace for heat it was a cold room, almost as chilly as her reception from Mr. Everett. Sitting beside him, her bonnet was impractical, so she pulled the pins and removed it, placing it on the side of the desk, which was strewn with papers.

“So how can I be of assistance?” she asked.

“Not sure that you can be.” Everett focused his attention back on the papers, shuffling through them in a slightly flustered manner.  “We are beginning a new scholarship so that those students who show academic promise may be sent to university. I am reviewing these applications to choose those who would be good candidates to receive the scholarship.”

“A worthy endeavor,” praised Frankie. “How are you beginning the process?”

“First, I am sorting out those who are clearly unqualified. I am putting those with poor academic records here, those who do not meet the age requirements for school there.” Everett pointed at the different stacks of papers.

“And these?’ Frankie pointed to a pile in front of her.

“Those applications are from females. The scholarship is a new one and in retrospect the instructions were not as clear as they ought to have been.  I believe some people thought they were applying for some sort of advanced school for girls.”

“Why should you not provide a scholarship for young women too?”

Everett looked up and blinked at her. “Because the scholarship is for university.” Of course no university would allow a female student.

Frankie picked up the pile of rejected applications of the girls who had applied in vain. “Could you not also provide something for them? Perhaps send them to a ladies seminary?”

“The intent was to provide education for the young men so they could obtain a decent position and raise their lot in life,” said Everett in a dismissive tone.

“But would that not be the same for the young women?” pressed Frankie, feeling a sudden kinship with the rejected girls. “It is difficult for men of limited means I grant you, but is it not even more difficult for women in our society to make their way? There are less occupations that are open to them, and without the protection of family, they can be preyed upon by the most despicable blackguards. Providing education to a girl could save her from a lifetime of misery and despair. It could give her the opportunity to become a teacher or a governess, something respectable. Without that, she is at the whim of the men around her, and may be forced into an untoward marriage or something even worse.”

Everett regarded her coolly, raising one brow. “And what would you know of the plight of the less fortunate?”

Anger simmered within her. First, she was rejected by her supposed society ‘friends’ and now she was dismissed by some school teacher when she had only come to help.

“I expect I know a good deal more about what it is like to be female in our world than you do,” she retorted.

Everett leaned back in his chair, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. He said nothing for a moment and Frankie wondered if she should have spoken so freely. Her aunt would have been nothing but shocked.

“Touché, Miss Devine. There is much truth in what you say,” he replied slowly. “I had not thought of it before, but perhaps we should consider making some provision for the young women as well as the men. It can be a hard life without opportunity or support.”

Frankie’s jaw dropped and she coughed a little to try to hide her surprise. She was not accustomed to people listening to her ideas or taking her seriously. “Perhaps this is a way I can be of assistance. I could read through the female applicants and find some that would be appropriate. I could even apply to my aunt to see if she would help support the scholarship fund for the girls. She is a kindly soul, and I believe this would be something she would embrace.”

Everett's countenance brightened. “Capital idea. I rescind my earlier comments, you may be helpful after all.”

“Thank you,” she replied dryly.

“I apologize if I was not more welcoming,” he conceded. “I had not thought a lady of society would be of any real help.”

Frankie gave him what she hoped was a withering glare. “If that was your attempt at an apology…”

A guilty smile spread across his face. Despite the fact that she was seriously irritated at the man, she could not deny that he was quite handsome. His eyes sparkled with mischief, his hair fell over one eye in a manner completely out of fashion but with a roguish charm. She wished to form a strong dislike of the man, but when he smiled she could not help but lean closer.

“I fear we have gotten off on the wrong foot,” said Everett, taking a deep breath. “Entirely my fault, of course. I fear my manners are lacking. May I beg your indulgence to try again?”

A small smile played on her lips, defying her determination to maintain an aversion of him. “As you wish,” she relented. Despite the chill of the room, Frankie felt quite flushed speaking to Mr. Everett and shrugged out of her fur-lined pelisse.

He gave her a smile that might be considered charming. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Devine.”

“And you as well, Mr. Everett.”

“Thank you for giving me a second chance. Not accustomed to conversing with society ladies.”

“Do you mean me? You needn’t worry yourself on my account. I would hardly consider myself a ‘society lady.’” Now that she had started on the path of frank candor, she could hardly back down now.

“If you are related to Mr. Grant, then I fear you most certainly are.”

Frankie shrugged. “It gets even worse, I was brought out by my aunt, Lady Devine.”

“Ah, definitely a high society gel.” He smiled his playful accusation.

“If it makes you feel any better, my father was the younger brother of Lady Devine, both come from Bavaria you understand.”

Everett cocked his head to one side. “Your father’s name is Devine?”

“Oh, no, he came to England after his sister’s marriage and took Lord Devine’s title as his surname when he arrived to honor him. Our family name was Unterweikertshofen and not quite in fashion.”

“Or pronounceable,” Everett joked.

Frankie stiffened and put more distance between them, suddenly realizing she had been leaning closer as they conversed.

“Forgive me,” amended Everett, noting she had taken offense. “Again.”

“Indeed. But I thank you for proving my point. A noble Bavarian family is nothing to London society. My father chose to focus on his relationship with Lord Devine in order to win acceptance in society.”

“It appears his plan worked.”

“I warrant it did. He married Grant’s elder sister and now hopes to see his daughters well settled.”

“Dare I ask how his plan is working, or would that once again prove my unsuitability for societal small talk.” Everett gave her a half smile, flipping his unruly hair out of his eyes in a rakish manner.

Frankie could not help but return his smile. “I should greatly appreciate all avoidance of societal small talk, it is dreadfully dull.”

“Then I shall risk impropriety by asking if your father has succeeded in seeing his daughters ‘well settled.’”

 Frankie’s heart sank as she was forced to relate the sad difference in her sister’s first season and hers. “My father’s plan worked quite well for my elder sister. Casandra received an offer before the end of her first season.”

“And what about his fairest daughter?”

Heat spread across her cheeks. She was not sure if he meant to offer her a compliment or was teasing her. She wished to deny understanding his words, but feared the blush gave her away. “I am not at all certain what you mean.” She shuffled the papers in front of her. “Casandra is now married. I have not had that honor. And you, sir? Have you entered the marital state?”

“No, I remain a bachelor. Fear there is none who would have me. But I find it difficult to believe that no gentleman in all of society has captured your heart.” He spoke lightly, as if it was the most casual of conversations. Of course, how could he know that the topic made her stomach clench with an old, familiar hollowness.

“As I have said, I remain…unattached.” The word that had first come to mind was unwanted.

“Good for you.”

This was not the response she expected. She looked up in surprise. “Good for me?”

“Of course. I find this pressure into marriage to be overbearing and tiresome. Good for you for deciding to remain single at present and not bending to the dictates of others. I believe it shows an excellent presence of mind.”

Frankie stared at Everett, wondering if his words were in some way mocking or if he was trying to make a jest. His countenance appeared sincere and she was forced to concede that his words, however unlikely, reflected his true feelings on the matter. The thought that someone would commend her for her greatest failure in not being able to secure a husband was so incomprehensible that she was rendered mute, not knowing how to reply to such a comment.

After a small, increasingly awkward pause, Mr. Everett rescued her by changing the subject. “Shall we focus our attention on these applications?”

“Yes, indeed.” Frankie breathed in relief.

They proceeded to discuss the criteria they would use to determine the eligibility of the applicants. Everett seemed determined to redeem himself from his initial dismissal of her and listened to her ideas, involving her in the process. Frankie found she greatly enjoyed speaking with a man who took her opinions seriously.

Frankie was focused on her work when the door banged open and a girl came to a skittering halt in front of Frankie. The child could not be more than twelve years old, her cheeks flushed, her red curly hair escaping it’s bindings in a most unkempt matter

“Is Georgie here?” the urchin demanded with a panting breath.

“Georgie?” asked Frankie. “Who is he?”

“Why he's the boy what's lost that we're looking for. He was supposed to be an angel all pretty like for the pageant, but he says he will be no such thing and bolted.”

“It sounds as if he is not quite a little angel,” said Everett rising with a smile. “Shall we help the search for him?”

“Oh yes, indeed. He's six years old and the teachers are exasperated with him. Is that the right word Miss Frankie? Exasperated?”

“Yes, it seems so.”

“Good. I've been trying to better myself. I now says lots of long words. Miss Genie is ever so nice in teaching me. Well, I gots to lope off to find him. You’ll know when you sets your peepers on him. He'll be the one looking like an angel that don't got no right to be dressed like that.” Jem turned on her heel and ran for the door, flinging it open with a bang once again.

“Frankie?” asked Everett with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

“That is what my family calls me. My family and incorrigible little girls who've been brought into the Grant household. Miss Jemima was hired as an upstairs maid, but she's become something more of a project. She saved the lives of Mr. Grant and his wife, so they have indulged her something awful, but she's a really good girl at heart.”

“It seems that she is. Shall we join the search for our non-angelic angel?”

Frankie nodded and they went out into the hall where the general chaos and overall din of children and teachers was at a considerable volume. Everett assumed something of a protective role, stopping a line of young boys from running into her and advising her to step carefully over the broken pieces of a vase. Teachers were running about, looking in the same places as other people had just searched, and still the reluctant angel was nowhere to be found.

“If I was a malcontented angel, this would be the last place I would be.” Everett whispered in her ear in a conspiratorial manner.

“Where would you go?”

They walked down the hall to the front door. Everett opened it, releasing a cold blast of air. He stepped outside glancing back at her to see if she would follow. Frankie hesitated. Grant was among the crowd of people, reassuring a teacher that the child would surely be found. He saw her and gave her a typical Grant grin, waving her on to continue the search. Surely it would not do any harm to step outside for a moment with Mr. Everett.

She took a breath and the arm of Mr. Everett, and began their search for an angel.