e door, leaving Jellicoe and Cross catching their breaths. They waved up the hall at Kit, then retreated to their desks along the side wall, presumably to neaten their lesson sheets and get ready for the next day.
After returning their salutes, Kit swung to face Sylvia. “Speaking of boys, did you know one of those attending here—Ned Johnson—is living with his aunt while his father looks for work?”
Sylvia nodded. “It’s a rather sad case. Ned’s been quieter since he had to go and stay with his aunt—I think he misses his father.”
Kit realized he hadn’t thought of Ned feeling any other way; he blew out a short breath. “Well, that’s a relief, because I spent an hour this afternoon engineering a way for his father—Bill Johnson—to be able to rent a home in a few weeks and so have Ned live with him again.”
“You have?” Delight filled Sylvia’s eyes, her reaction even more of a fillip to his soul than Kit had hoped it would be.
Drinking in her expression, he slid his hands into his pockets and nodded. “Johnson came to ask me to intercede with you to get the school to stop teaching Ned.” As Cross and Jellicoe, alerted by Sylvia’s reaction, drew closer and settled to listen, Kit explained Bill Johnson’s fear that education would lead to Ned disowning him. “It seemed the situation with Ned living with his sister-in-law had exacerbated Johnson’s understandable anxiety. He has no book learning of any sort himself.”
Cross nodded sagely. “We run into that attitude more often than you might think.” He tipped his head at Sylvia. “Sylvia usually prevails, but we’ve lost a few along the way.”
“Sadly, that’s true,” Sylvia confirmed. “Mr. Johnson’s belief isn’t uncommon.”
“So how did you convince Johnson to leave Ned at school?” Jellicoe asked. “Whatever you did, we can only applaud—Ned is one of those pupils we would least like to lose.”
With Cross and Sylvia nodding in agreement, Kit felt even more vindicated in his meddling. “The long and the short of it is that I made a deal with Johnson—he’s already started working for Cavanaugh Yachts, and in return for him allowing Ned to continue at the school, in two weeks’ time, I’ll stand guarantor for Johnson’s income so he can rent a place of his own. He’s currently living in a hostel, which is why Ned’s with his aunt.”
“And then Ned can go back to living with his father?” Sylvia confirmed.
Kit nodded. “That will ease one issue, but I went a few steps further.” And he wasn’t sure, now, how they would react to his scheme. “I suggested that, after school each day, Ned should come to the workshop—to see the work his father does and appreciate what he helps to create.”
Cross and Jellicoe arched their brows, but as both thought, they slowly nodded.
“A sound idea,” Jellicoe said.
Relieved, Kit went on to explain about Jack the Lad and Kit’s notion of blending school attendance and apprenticeship, and was relieved anew to find the idea enthusiastically received.
“That’s a real step forward,” Sylvia said, her expression alight. “And now you’ve inspired me to approach other businesses and see if they might be interested in similar apprentice-school partnerships.”
Kit felt the glow he’d experienced earlier swell. “You can use my name and title, if that will help.”
Sylvia laughed and lightly touched his arm. “Oh, it’ll help. Thank you.”
Something in Kit froze; that was the first time she’d spontaneously touched him.
Cross and Jellicoe, now talking excitedly, had already donned their coats. With farewell waves, they headed for the door.
“I said I’d lock up,” Sylvia said. “Just let me get my things.”
Kit prowled in her wake and held her coat for her, then he waited while, reticule swinging, she crossed to the back door and locked it, then came walking up the hall to where he stood by the front door.
He watched her approach, her gaze shifting to either side as she checked this and that. Helping Bill Johnson and his Ned had left him feeling... He decided the word he was seeking was the one Wayland had earlier suggested: “uplifted.” He couldn’t recall setting out to deliberately help someone—a total stranger, someone he didn’t know—before. He suspected that was Sylvia’s influence rubbing off on him.
The buoyant feeling was rather addictive.
As she neared, he waved her through the door and followed, tugging the door shut behind him. He waited beside her while she locked the door and returned the key to her reticule, then—because impulse prodded and he hoped she would see the gesture as appropriate—he offered her his arm.
She paused for only a second, then flashed him a gentle smile and set her hand on his sleeve.
Pleased—a touch relieved—he guided her down the steps, then started them pacing in relaxed fashion along the pavement. Although they’d walked together through the city several times, this was the first time since Rand’s wedding he’d walked with her properly on his arm. The effect of having her just that bit closer feathered across his senses; her long legs set a stride that was easy for him to match, and her unconscious gracefulness captivated the more predatory part of his mind.
With some effort, he drew his thoughts from such simple pleasures and focused on the here and now. “Are you heading to your office or your lodgings?”
“Lodgings,” she replied, her gaze on the flagstones ahead of them. “I’ve finished all I need to do today.”
He saw her glance across the street at the Stenshaw residence. As she looked ahead again, he said, “Incidentally, have you been troubled by that sensation of being watched today?”