Mrs. Brooke’s Academy for Young Ladies, Kensington

Two days later ...

“Can you spare a minute? I’m about to leave for the day and I’m bursting to know how the meeting at Mrs. Marlowe’s went. You must tell me everything,” whispered Tessa Penrose as she poked her head into the small, brightly lit music tutorial room on the second floor of Mrs. Brooke’s Academy.

“Well, I suppose so ...” Kate glanced at her fourteen-year-old student, Miss Clarice Langford—a dedicated and most promising musician even at her tender age—and she smiled back.

“It’s quite all right, Miss Woodville. I will go on with the gavotte and minuet by Bach. And then there’s that complicated Chopin nocturne.” The young girl shuddered.

“Thank you, Clarice. I won’t be long.” Kate joined Tessa and filled her friend in on the previous day’s events as they traversed the hall leading to the academy’s grand mahogany staircase. “The Duchess of Haverford is a certainly a unique woman. I put my case forward for expanding our endeavors at White Church House. Her Grace’s personal assistant—Miss Cedrica Grenford—faithfully recorded all of our recommendations about expanding the day school and lodging house. I gained the impression that the duchess will give our proposal due consideration. With any luck, it will be one of the recipient charities at the Hollystone Hall subscription ball on New Year’s Eve.”

They paused at the top of the stairs and Tessa clapped her gloved hands together. “Wonderful. I knew you could do it, Kate. And of course, you must attend the duchess’s house party at Hollystone Hall in December to continue advocating for our cause.”

“Me? I ...” Kate grasped the newel post as panic flared. “But I’m only a teacher and from what I gathered at the meeting, the who’s who of the ton will be attending.”

Tessa’s smile was sympathetic as she placed one of her gloved hands over Kate’s and squeezed. “I would go if I could, but you know I cannot ... Besides, you are as good as anyone else in the ton, Katherine Woodville.”

“But I have nothing to wear. Just look at me.” Kate gestured at her worn gown of gray stuff. “And how shall I get there? And I am loath to travel so far on my own let alone brave a house party. I know I’m very much a spinster but all the same ...”

“Pish,” admonished Tessa gently. “It’s months away. In any case, I will help you out with regard to your first two objections. And as for a chaperone, I’m sure Freddie would be happy to oblige you, wouldn’t he? He seems to be at a loose end these days.”

That was one way to describe it. If ‘loose end’ meant living off what was left of his trust fund and chasing after Violet Lockhart ... Kate had caught Freddie and Violet ‘chatting’ between the freestanding bookshelves at Mrs. Marlowe’s Book Emporium after she’d emerged from the charity committee meeting yesterday. Indeed, Violet had only been present at the meeting for a mere fifteen minutes before she’d offered an apology and slipped from the room. It was clear to Kate she’d used the occasion as just another ruse to meet Freddie. Kate was beginning to realize her former pupil could be quite disingenuous if she set her mind to it. No wonder Lord Stanton had been watching her like a hawk at the Grand Masquerade.

“Excuse me, Miss Woodville.”

Kate turned to find Miss Oliphant, Mrs. Brooke’s new personal secretary hovering on the landing below. The young woman looked quite flustered. “What is it? Is everything all right?” she asked.

“I’m not sure ...” Miss Oliphant pushed her spectacles up her nose. “There is someone here to see you. And she insists that it is a most pressing matter. I have installed her in the front parlor.”

She? Could it be the Duchess of Haverford? Kate frowned. “Who is it? Did she give her name?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. She did. I should have said.” The young woman glanced at the ivory calling card in her hand. “Phyllis Lockhart, the Dowager Viscountess Stanton.”

Oh, my goodness. Kate’s pulse began to leap as wildly as the lively gavotte Miss Clarice had just been playing on the pianoforte. The viscountess could only be visiting for one reason—she must suspect something was going on between Violet and Freddie.

The headstrong, contrary part of Kate wanted to keep the woman waiting until Clarice had finished her lesson. The sensible part of her knew it wouldn’t be at all wise to irk Lady Stanton given the circumstances. “I see. Inform her ladyship I’ll be down directly.”

“Yes, miss.”

Tessa pulled a face after Miss Oliphant departed. “That sounds ominous. Would you like me to supervise Clarice whilst you are gone?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. Thank you.” After Kate had issued a few instructions to Tessa, she set forth for the front parlor with her shoulders back and her head held high. Even though her pulse was still skittering about, there was no point in acting like a frightened field mouse, not when she, Kate Woodville, had done nothing wrong.

But it wasn’t only Lady Stanton she found. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that Lord Stanton might accompany his mother on such a visit?

He was examining the street through the casement window when she entered, but when the door clicked shut, he turned and his unnerving gray gaze settled unerringly on her.

At that moment, it felt as though all the air had been sucked from the room as the overwhelming presence of the man struck her to dumbness. She’d forgotten how tall and physically imposing Lord Stanton was. And how distracting his handsome countenance. Even more handsome now that he was sans mask. Indeed, his harshly chiseled features made her think of a Greek or Roman warrior ... Or a god ...

Good heavens, where had that errant thought come from?

Kate blushed and curtsied low to try and hide her discomfiture. This interview wouldn’t go well at all if she was addled from the very start. “Good day, Lady Stanton. Lord Stanton,” she said in a voice that was thankfully steady when she found it. She didn’t add anything else. If they wanted to broach a difficult subject, let them begin.

The viscountess, who was seated upon a shepherdess chair upholstered in pale caramel velvet, sniffed as she looked her up and down. Attired in a superbly cut walking gown and matching spencer in cobalt blue, it was clear she thought little of Kate’s plain gray dress.

“You must know why we are here,” the viscountess said at length after she’d completed her perusal. Even though Lady Stanton was as fair-haired as her daughter, her eyes were a cold, pale blue rather than gray. Indeed, the shade rather reminded Kate of arctic ice, and it was all she could do not to shiver as the viscountess continued to stare at her.

Kate folded her hands in front of her to stop them from shaking before she responded. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

Lady Stanton arched a flaxen brow. “For a teacher, I must say, you do not seem overly bright.”

“For a viscountess, I must say, you do not seem overly gracious.” Kate bit her lip. Oh, dear. Now she’d done it.

“Well, I never!” Lady Stanton’s eyes darted blue fire.

“Ladies. Might I intervene?” Lord Stanton stepped forward to take up a position behind the dowager viscountess’s chair. His gaze was cool and uncompromising as he directed it straight at Kate. “Miss Woodville, we know your brother has been pursuing Violet against our wishes. And that you have been a party to the subterfuge going on.”

Kate raised her chin. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Do you deny that Violet and your brother met, in secret, at White Church House two days ago, and at Mrs. Marlowe’s Book Emporium just yesterday?”

“I hardly think a public book shop and a charity lodging house are places one would choose to arrange secret assignations,” Kate retorted. “Besides, I am not my brother’s keeper. Nor am I responsible for your sister’s comings and goings. Your concern is duly noted, but I really don’t know why you would bother coming to me about this.”

Lord Stanton drummed his fingers along the back of the shepherdess chair. “Tell your brother he must stop chasing after my sister.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. Of course. I’m sure he’ll listen.”

Lord Stanton’s wide mouth twitched but whether it was with grudging amusement or anger she really couldn’t tell.

Lady Stanton rose and wandered over to the fireplace. “Tell me about White Church House. You say it is some sort of lodging house. For the poor?”

Kate frowned, confused at the woman’s sudden change of tack. “Yes. It is run by The Benevolent Society for the Women of Whitechapel and St. Mary’s Church. It’s a charity that supports destitute women and their children. But surely you are aware of all this considering you knew that Violet arranged a visit.”

“Hmph.” The viscountess ran a gloved fingertip along the marble mantel and then examined her black kid glove for dust. “It all sounds very commendable.” Her gaze flicked back to Kate’s face. “I can see why it would appeal to someone like you, given your background.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Kate’s eyes met Lord Stanton’s and color stained his cheeks. He’s ashamed.

However it was Lady Stanton who spoke. “My stepson has discovered the most interesting things about you and your brother,” she said in a deceptively mild tone. “Your family’s history ...”

Kate swallowed. She hadn’t realized Lady Stanton was not Anthony Lockhart’s mother. Not that such a detail mattered right now. What mattered was that Lady Stanton was clearly about to deliver a threat of some kind. “I don’t understand what my family has to do with any of this,” she said stiffly.

“You will. I heard about the meeting you attended yesterday. And that it was presided over by the Duchess of Haverford. She is a patroness of this school is she not?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“And Her Grace is holding a Yuletide house party and subscription ball to raise money for certain charities, such as yours, yes?”

“Yes. But I fail to see—”

Lady Stanton raised a hand. “Come, come, Miss Woodville. Isn’t it obvious? Someone like you—with a father who drank and gambled all his money away and died in debtor’s prison, and a brother who is clearly a fortune-hunting scoundrel trying to take advantage of a young woman who is the sister of a viscount no less—surely you must see that your background is a problem. What would the duchess think if she were to discover a woman with such a scandalous family history, and a rogue of a brother, taught at this school? Surely she’d be duty bound to inform Mrs. Brooke that she has someone on staff with a tainted reputation. And then of course, why would Her Grace bother investing in your dirty little charity? I’m sure at least half of the women inhabiting White Church House are unwed mothers. How positively disgraceful to be associated with such an endeavor.”

For a moment, Kate stood perfectly still as shock and anger roiled inside her belly. The viscountess’s vile attitude was appalling. And to think Lord Stanton had been investigating her and Freddie to such a degree! Somehow she found her voice. It shook a little as she spoke but she was beyond caring. “I think it’s disgraceful that you dare to speak about the women and the charity that supports them in such a demeaning way, your ladyship. Her Grace certainly didn’t think The Benevolent Society for the Women of Whitechapel a shameful cause when I discussed it with her yesterday.”

Lady Stanton sniffed. “Her Grace does have impeccable manners. However, I doubt she will consider your request for support seriously.”

Kate’s gaze moved to Lord Stanton’s face. His expression had become as hard as granite yet she was so furious she wasn’t overawed by him anymore. “My lord, what have you to say? It seems you are the one who has been digging up all the dirt so to speak. Do you agree with your stepmother that my charity, my family, and I are ‘disgraceful and tainted’?”

Lord Stanton’s gray eyes were like flint. “I simply want your brother to stop seeing my sister. She deserves better.”

“Better? Yes. I now know exactly why you are so concerned because the Woodvilles are indeed terrible,” scoffed Kate. “I mean, how dreadful it is that I have an excellent teaching record. And isn’t it absolutely horrifying that my uncle, Harold Woodville, is Baron Rookhope? And my brother, who is a decorated war hero, why, he is next in line for the title. Now, that is truly atrocious. And of course, it is clearly beyond the pale that Miss Tessa Penrose, my very good friend who is the sister of Viscount Trevilian, is also a tutor at this school and a patroness of The Benevolent Society for the Women of Whitechapel.” Kate threw her hands in the air. “Heavens, I am practically besmirched up to my very eyeballs. What on earth was Mrs. Brooke thinking when she hired me? Indeed, you must be ruing the fact you danced with a woman like me the other night at Vauxhall. Are you worried that I have left a stain upon your above-reproach reputation too?”

A muscle worked in Lord Stanton’s jaw. “Are you quite finished?” he grated out in a voice as rough as gravel.

“I am.” Kate put a hand to her chest where her heart beat wildly. Now that she’d vented her spleen, she felt shaky and a little sick. Good Lord. Had she really just said all those things? But then, what did it really matter if Lord Stanton and his horrid stepmother thought she was a harpy? They could just add it to the long list of ‘things that were wrong with Kate Woodville’.

Lady Stanton’s face was pinched with anger, her mouth a hard line. “I will make sure the duchess hears about this.”

“So will I,” Kate said faintly and gripped the edge of the mahogany bookcase behind her.

Lord Stanton took a step forward. “Are you all right, Miss Woodville? You’ve gone very pale.”

If Kate hadn’t felt so dizzy, she might have laughed. Now, Lord Stanton begins to act like a gentleman? She waved a dismissive hand. “I expect I’ll be fine. I haven’t eaten in a while, that is all.”

“Or she’s overwrought,” muttered Lady Stanton.

“Phyllis ...” warned Lord Stanton. His gaze returned to Kate. “I shall call for assistance.”

Before Kate could even think to stop him, Lord Stanton strode to the door and disappeared. However, within a minute he returned with Tessa. Her friend didn’t bother to curtsy to Lady Stanton or introduce herself but rushed to her side. “Kate. You’ve had another one of your turns, haven’t you? You must take better care of yourself. When did you last have a meal?”

Kate smiled weakly. “Six o’clock this morning.” It was now almost two but she’d been so used to going without in the past, it was a bad habit of hers to forget to eat.

Tessa frowned. “Take a seat whilst I go to the kitchen for some tea and toast. I won’t be long.”

“And on that note, we shall be leaving,” proclaimed Lady Stanton. “We’ll see ourselves out.” She swept to the door, her cobalt blue skirts whipping about her legs.

Lord Stanton remained by the door as Kate sank onto a nearby settee. “There’s no need to stay, my lord.” She had no idea why he lingered. Surely he wasn’t concerned about her. “Miss Penrose will be back in a few minutes and as I said before, I will be fine.”

He nodded, once. “Yes.” He glanced out into the entry hall then back to her. “I did not come here today to threaten you, Miss Woodville. But I do advise you to speak to your brother. His pursuit of Violet must stop. Good day to you. I hope you feel better soon.”

He bowed, and as the door closed behind him, Kate could almost believe he was a gentleman rather than an arrogant nobleman who had indeed tried to intimidate her.

One thing was certain: she had to speak with Freddie. But would he listen?