They were bosom to chest, his hand spread against her back, her hand half on his shoulder, half behind his neck, fingertips touching bare flesh, their other hands clasped against his heart. They were gazing into each other’s eyes, mere inches apart, both slightly breathless, both with fast-beating hearts, both . . .

And that was the precise moment at which the schoolroom door opened abruptly to admit Miss Ford, closely followed by Cousin Elizabeth—Lady Overfield, Alexander’s sister—and Anastasia, Duchess of Netherby.

Thirteen

There was a moment when all five persons paused, startled. Then—

“I have been teaching Mr. Cunningham the steps of the waltz.”

“Miss Westcott has been teaching me to waltz.”

They spoke simultaneously before moving hastily apart, and it registered more fully upon Joel’s mind who these ladies were—two of them anyway. He had never seen the third before.

“Anna!” he exclaimed, and strode toward her, both hands outstretched. “You are here already.” He had received one of her long letters yesterday morning, and in it she informed him that she and Netherby were expecting to be in Bath by the beginning of next week for her grandmother’s birthday celebrations. But not today.

“Joel!” She met him halfway, set her hands in his, and squeezed them as tightly as he was squeezing hers. “We could see that my grandparents were suddenly homesick and decided to leave a few days earlier than planned.”

Joel’s first coherent thought was that marriage agreed with her. She was dressed with simple yet obviously expensive elegance, as the change in her status had made inevitable, but the most noticeable change since she had last stood in this room as a teacher was the glow of health and vitality she seemed to exude. Her face seemed fuller and her slight figure less thin. Yet another change was in himself. He did not feel immediately heartsick and resentful over the fact that another man must be at least partly responsible for the improvement in her looks. It was a bit of a startling realization. Was he getting over her at last, then?

Camille meanwhile was greeting the other lady, who was holding one of her hands in both her own and smiling warmly at her. She was noticeably older than both Camille and Anna, but she was elegant and had an amiable, good-looking face. He could hazard a guess at who she was since Anna had written a great deal about Cousin Elizabeth, Lady Overfield, in the early days.

“We arrived late this morning,” Anna was explaining, “after taking my grandparents home to Wensbury. We expected that we would be the first of the family to arrive, but it was not so. After luncheon we all went to call upon Mrs. Kingsley. We left Cousin Althea, Aunt Louise, and Jessica there with her and Abigail while Elizabeth and I came here to see Camille, and Avery and Alexander walked back to the hotel. Do let me make the introductions. Lizzie, this is my dear friend Joel Cunningham, who grew up here with me and teaches art here a couple of afternoons a week. Elizabeth is Lady Overfield, Joel, Alexander’s sister—he is the Earl of Riverdale, you may recall.”

He had not been mistaken, then. “You are the lady who went to live with Anna in London until she married,” he said as he shook hands with her.

“And you, Mr. Cunningham,” she said, “are the friend to whom she wrote long, long letters every day. I am delighted to meet you.”

“And I you, ma’am,” he assured her.

Miss Ford left the room quietly and closed the door after her while Joel and Lady Overfield exchanged pleasantries and Camille and Anna eyed each other. Part of his attention was on them, these half sisters who had grown up unaware of each other’s existence. Anna had been delighted to discover that she had three half siblings and had wanted to love them and share her inherited fortune with them in equal measures. But of course the situation was far less rosy from their point of view, for the discovery of her existence had come simultaneously with the knowledge of their own illegitimacy. It had stripped them of their titles and their homes and fortunes.

“Camille,” Anna said as she turned from him and Lady Overfield. Joel was aware of her hesitation over whether to stretch out her hands, as she had done to him, or to step up closer to Camille and hug her. But she hesitated too long and ended up doing neither. Poor Anna.

“Anastasia.” Camille, he was aware, was enacting one of her less appealing roles—stiff, cold, dignified lady—as she clasped her hands at her waist and inclined her head, the language of her body setting a shield about herself that firmly discouraged either a handshake or a hug. Poor Camille.

It surprised Joel that he could see both points of view, whereas until recently he had been able to see only Anna’s and had been predisposed to dislike Camille.

“Abigail wrote to Jessica and told her you had come here,” Anna said, “first to teach and then to live as well. I have been longing to come and see you here. Just now, Miss Ford has been telling Lizzie and me that she has offered you the job for at least the next twenty years and hopes you do not think she was joking.” She smiled brightly, but Joel could see the strain, the wariness she was feeling.

“I believe,” Camille said, “that is because no one else has applied for the position.”

“I believe rather,” Anna told her, still smiling, “it is because you have endeared yourself to the children with innovative and imaginative teaching.”

“It is kind of you to say so,” Camille said stiffly, and though she did not curtsy, she came dashed close to it, Joel thought. He could have shaken her—and Anna too, for while Anna was trying hard to say something kind and generous to her sister, she was coming very close to sounding condescending. Their relationship was not going to improve if they continued this way.