A campaign unlike any he’d ever waged.
Because he’d never felt so wretchedly unsure of himself with any woman before.
CHAPTER 11
The following afternoon, Kit tracked Sylvia to the school. He’d spent half the night plotting and planning and had settled on a strategy and a course of action. After spending most of the day at the workshop, mentally rehearsing his approach while working alongside Wayland and the men, he’d set off for Sylvia’s office, girded his loins, and knocked on the door, only to discover she wasn’t there.
As he climbed the school steps, he heard her voice, and a curious mix of trepidation and anticipation slid through him. He couldn’t recall feeling the like for more than a decade, not since he’d been a wet-behind-the-ears youth who’d just come on the town.
And even then...
Then, the outcome hadn’t really mattered.
Now, it did.
He stood back to allow two boys to barrel through the door, then ducked inside before the next group clogged the entry.
To one side, Sylvia and Miss Meggs were discussing something in some book.
When they looked up, smiles lighting both their faces, he quashed his instinctive impulse to cross to them—to Sylvia—and, instead, raised a hand in a salute and continued down the hall to where Cross and Jellicoe had just dismissed the older lads and now stood comparing notes.
The teachers saw Kit coming and turned to greet him.
He had his excuses for calling polished and ready; he halted before the pair and, after exchanging nods, said, “I came to see how Ned was today—whether he’d heard his father’s good news and, if so, how he was taking it.”
Both Cross’s and Jellicoe’s faces creased with smiles.
“He’s a different lad,” Cross said. “It’s as if a spark that should have been glowing inside him all this time has ignited again.”
Jellicoe nodded. “That’s not a bad description. From what I overheard him telling the other lads at lunchtime, his father called at his aunt’s house last night and told Ned of his new job and that you’d offered to stand guarantor for him renting another place to live, and that once that was done, Ned could live with him again.”
“A transformation is the only way to describe it,” Cross averred. “We’d put Ned down as naturally quiet, but it seems that’s not the case at all.”
Jellicoe’s lips twitched. “No, indeed, but along with his sudden liveliness has come a renewed determination to succeed with his lessons. Whether his father actually said so or if Ned is reading between the lines, it seems he’s realized that his father might end quite proud of him for his learning.”
“And your suggestion of Ned going to the workshop after school was inspired,” Cross said. “He used to be one of the dawdlers, but today, he was out of here like a shot the instant we ended the last lesson.”
Jellicoe chuckled. “The one drawback I foresee to your plan is that you might well find you have a small platoon of boys hovering about your workshop door and goggling at your men.”
Kit grinned. “I’m sure the men will take that in stride. And if they don’t, I can rely on my secretary, Miss Petty, to sort the boys out.” Kit tipped his head. “Who knows? As the boys grow older, we might end with more school-apprentice arrangements. Speaking of which, how is Ollie faring? He’s also in something of a school-apprenticeship situation, although in his case, he’s training for domestic service. My majordomo reports that Ollie’s bright and quick-witted. Gordon thinks that, depending on how Ollie grows, he might be able to go as a footman or even aspire to becoming a butler.”
“I wouldn’t disagree with that assessment.” Jellicoe exchanged a look with Cross. “We’ve been putting Ollie through his paces to see what level of schooling he needs.” Jellicoe met Kit’s eyes. “We’ve also noticed his quick thinking, and in light of what you’ve just said, I rather think we’ll work with Ollie to move him along rather faster.”
Cross returned from fetching his coat and Jellicoe’s. Handing Jellicoe’s over, Cross humphed. “Ollie’s an excellent example of the waste of good intellect that occurs when children are forced into service too young.” Shrugging on his coat, Cross grinned at Kit. “Thankfully, we have our hooks in him now, and with luck, he’ll reach his full potential.”
His questions about Ned and Ollie had been intended to account for his appearance at the school, but nevertheless, Kit felt gratified. That warm glow opened up inside him again and spread through his chest.
He sauntered beside Cross and Jellicoe as the pair walked to the door. Miss Meggs had departed, and Sylvia was waiting, a smile for them all on her face.
Cross and Jellicoe said their farewells and departed, leaving Sylvia smiling at Kit. “I heard you asking about Ned and Ollie. Did Cross and Jellicoe fill you in?”
He nodded and waved her to precede him through the door. “They did, indeed.” Following her into the weak sunshine, he added, “I’m glad both boys are, it seems, applying themselves with enthusiasm.”
“Oh, they definitely are.” Sylvia turned to lock the door. “Miss Meggs said Ned was bouncing with happiness, and Ollie seems to have settled in quickly.”
When, after stuffing the heavy key into her reticule, she swung back to the pavement, Kit offered his arm. She stared at it for a second, then, instead of setting her hand upon it—keeping him at a greater distance—she stepped nearer and tucked her gloved hand in the crook of his elbow.
His confidence regarding her and his strategy leapt and surged. He guided her down the steps and, strolling like any other couple, they set course for the Frome and the city beyond.