The young ladies showed only polite interest until Madeline’s French origins were revealed, and then they paid avid attention to every word she spoke, eagerly peppering her with questions—which not only boded well for her reception but gave her some ideas about how she might approach her own classes that were to begin on Monday morning.
Upon returning to Danvers Hall, Madeline devoted the afternoon to preparing her lesson on French grammar and vocabulary, an exercise that made her lament the poor references she had at her disposal.
On Sunday, she attended service at the village church and accepted an invitation afterward to take luncheon with Miss Caruthers and Mrs. Melford, where they discussed the importance of Madeline’s classes and how to increase their effectiveness.
“You see, Miss Ellis,” Jane Caruthers explained, “we believe that learning correct pronunciation of a foreign language will give our young ladies better command of their own native tongue, and speaking English with proper accents will help them go much further in society—or at the very least, help them avoid automatically being labeled as coming from the lower classes.”
“I understand,” Madeline replied, recognizing Arabella’s theory, “and I completely agree. But I hope to find a better French primer than the one our pupils now use.”
Miss Caruthers nodded in approval. “An excellent idea. You might try Hatchard’s bookshop in London. They have the largest selection of books anywhere. And of course, the academy will fund any purchases you make on our pupils’ behalf.”
Madeline greatly enjoyed getting to know her fellow teachers, but she had the rest of the day to herself, since Lord and Lady Danvers had left that morning for London. Before taking tea alone, Madeline started a letter to her brother to tell him of her unexpected change in fortune and her new employment.
Yet no matter her occupation, the Earl of Haviland was never far from her thoughts. Madeline didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed to have seen no sign of him or Freddie Lunsford the entire weekend.
She did, however, receive a short missive from Haviland shortly after dinner that confirmed their agreement to attend Mrs. Sauville’s salon together on Tuesday evening. While his messenger waited, Madeline wrote the earl a quick reply, asking if they might visit Hatchard’s bookshop beforehand in order to investigate reference materials for her French classes.
Madeline couldn’t help but view the upcoming trip to London with eager anticipation. Thus far she’d lived an utterly tame life, growing up on a country farm and then serving as a lady’s companion for so many years. Purloining letters from under the nose of a blackmailing widow might be the most exciting adventure she had ever experienced. Moreover, sharing that adventure with a former spymaster of Haviland’s vaunted reputation would likely prove fascinating.
The novelty of going to London at least helped ameliorate her nervousness at the prospect of conducting her first class on the morrow. Perhaps that was why, Madeline realized once she had passed the test at the academy with flying colors, her initiation into the world of teaching went so well.
However, when both missing gentlemen called on her at Danvers Hall on Monday afternoon, her nerves returned full force. Madeline deplored the way her heart leapt when Lord Haviland entered the library where she was poring over a map of Paris in preparation for her next class.
Even so, she couldn’t stop herself from drinking in the sight of him, or dismiss the feeling that she had just been passing time until his reappearance in her life.
I am suffering from a sad case of infatuation, Maman, Madeline lamented inwardly as she invited the gentlemen to be seated in wing chairs near the fire and asked Simpkin to bring refreshments for her distinguished callers.
Despite her determination to conquer her idiocy, she listened with only half an ear as Freddie Lunsford rambled on with an apology for neglecting her these past few days, claiming that he had been in London.
When Haviland offered the same excuse, she found herself looking at his mouth, remembering the taste of him, and eyeing his strong, capable hands, recalling their sensual touch on her skin the night in the Danvers nursery. How thoroughly he had overwhelmed and enchanted her that evening—
“I say, Miss Ellis,” Freddie interjected, “didn’t you begin teaching today?”
“Yes,” Haviland seconded. “How did your first French class go?”
Flushing, Madeline jerked her errant thoughts back to the present. “It seemed successful. I centered my vocabulary lesson around French fashions and had my young ladies pretend we were in Paris, patronizing various modistes and milliners. Tomorrow I mean to expand our environs to historical sites.”
Haviland raised an eyebrow. “Have you been to Paris?”
“No, but many of my mother’s compatriots returned there once the royalists were reinstated after Napoleon’s defeat, so I think I’ve heard enough tales and descriptions to convey the flavor of the city. And as you know, much of the British aristocracy flocked to Paris after the war’s end. As a result, our English fashion magazines show a decided French influence. I plan to capitalize on that to spark our pupils’ interest in proper grammar and pronunciation.”
Just then, Simpkin entered, carrying a large tea tray. When he had left Madeline alone with her visitors again, she turned to the topic that was foremost on her mind.
“I admit I was relieved to receive your missive yesterday, Lord Haviland. I feared you might change your mind about letting me accompany you.”
“No, I decided your ideas were good ones. You have a legitimate interest in attending Madame Sauville’s gathering and conversing with her countrymen so you can better teach your pupils. And my escorting you there provides me a reasonable excuse to attend without raising her suspicions.” A half smile touched Haviland’s mouth. “Furthermore, we had a bargain, Miss Ellis. I mean to uphold my end of it, and I expect you to do the same.”
Reminded of her promise to consider his proposal, Madeline wrinkled her nose. “I fully intend to.”
Freddie was looking between them with puzzlement, but Haviland ignored him and proceeded to explain that setting his plans in place was the chief reason for his recent trip to London. “I managed a chance meeting with a friend of Mrs. Sauville’s to confirm the program for Tuesday evening. She has planned a poetry reading for seven o’clock, with a supper afterward.”
“Will we attend without an invitation?”
“Yes, to avoid giving her any advance warning. If for some reason she does suspect me of plotting to regain the letters, I don’t want to allow her time to move them to another hiding place.”
Impressed by his foresight, Madeline voiced her next question. “When should I be ready tomorrow?”
“I will call for you at three o’clock to convey you to London. That should allow us ample time to visit the bookshop you mentioned. We’ll discuss the details of the plan during our drive.”