She heard the sounds from the street outside as though magnified; the tick of the clock was thunderous in her ears. Even birdsong insinuated itself into her schoolroom despite the windows being closed. Until suddenly, she realized the entire building was silent. Walking to the windows, she looked down on a street empty of dray wagons and workmen. Returning to her desk, she sat down and attempted to read.
But her senses were on high alert.
High, quivering alert.
She jumped at the approaching sound of boot heels in the corridor outside.
As the measured footsteps halted at her door, she went rigid.
When the door opened and Ormond walked in, it seemed as if her heart had stopped.
“I’m early,” he said, his smile inexpressibly beautiful as he moved toward her. “I hope you don’t mind. I confess to a novel impatience.”
She thought he’d said four, but perhaps he hadn’t. “No, I don’t mind at all,” she said, smiling back, pleased by his confession.
He stopped before her desk, darkly handsome and superbly dressed in black trousers, a soft white linen shirt and silk waistcoat, dark cravat and bottle green frock coat. “So then, do we have a few hours in which to amuse ourselves?”
A blush rose on her cheeks.
“You decide on the amusement, of course,” he graciously said. “We could have tea and talk if you like.”
“I must be home by six. I left a note,” she explained, nervously, not at all sure she was dégagé enough to decide on anything having to do with Ormond.
“Excellent.” Time enough to explain that he too had sent a note to Mrs. Bellingham’s. In his experience, a lady was rather more amenable to a change in her schedule once she’d climaxed a few times. “Shall we?” Moving around her desk, he held out his hand.
He was so splendidly attired, she felt like a church mouse even though she’d worn her pretty tartan skirt. But as she rose from her chair and took his hand, his smile mitigated her unease, lush pleasure warmed her senses, and their mismatched lives suddenly were inconsequential.
As they exited the schoolroom, the viscount casually inquired, “Did you have a pleasant day?”
She glanced up, misgiving in her eyes. Was she no more than another in a long line of women who entertained him?
“Forgive me. I was trying to put you at your ease and obviously failed.”
“I’ve never done this before.”
“I understand.” He smiled ruefully. “One falls into certain patterns. My apologies again. In truth, I have never done precisely this before either.”
“My life is not like yours. I cannot afford a mistake.”
His life had been a continuous series of mistakes-most commonly waking up where he didn’t wish to be. “Then we shall see that no mistakes befall you,” he said with a gravity she’d not heard before. Ormond was not a somber man.
“I am somewhat relieved,” she said, mollified by his understanding.
“And I in turn will endeavor to see that you are further relieved of your concerns.” He lifted his chin as they reached the stairway to the third floor. “I believe tea is awaiting us upstairs.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You were behind all this activity today? The wagons and workmen and throngs of domestics?”
“I thought this locale would be more convenient for you.”
“Or you.”
He shrugged. “Very well. For us both. Come, don’t scowl at me before you see what I have wrought.”
A certain apprehension filled her mind as they ascended the stairs and walked down the hall. As Ormond stopped before a door directly above that of her schoolroom, he offered her a boyish smile. “I hope you like it.” Opening the door, he ushered her in.
“I am awestruck,” she whispered, standing just inside the threshold, gazing at a drawing room of impeccable style and beauty. The furniture was scaled to a woman’s size, many of the pieces spectacular in their ornament-although of a sumptuous rather than a grandiose nature. She had an uneasy feeling several of the items might have once resided at Versailles.
“Catherine’s decorator will be pleased you like it. Come, sit down.” He waved her forward. “Our tea is ready.”
If she had momentarily overlooked the discrepancies in their lives downstairs, those distinctions returned with a vengeance. She wore a hand-me-down skirt and shabby slippers while Ormond casually assembled a luxurious apartment on a whim. “I don’t know…this is all rather overwhelming.”
“The tea is quite ordinary, I assure you.” Taking her hand, he drew her toward a small table set for tea. “Sit, relax, tell me of your day.” He pulled out a chair for her. “I watched all your twittering students depart. How do you deal with their babbling silliness and stay sane?”
It was as if he not only understood how unmanageable her students were but fully sympathized with her plight. “I could use a few moments to relax,” she murmured, experiencing a sudden wave of self-pity that effectively forestalled issues of unequal status. “Trying to impart anything remotely educational to my young ladies is indeed an exercise in futility.”
“I expect I was the despair of my tutors as well,” he said, sitting down in a large chair apparently selected for him. After pouring her tea, he looked up to see if she wanted cream.
“Yes, please.” How pleasant it was to be waited on. Especially on a day like today when her schoolroom had been continuously at sixes and sevens.
Pouring cream into her tea, Ormond added sugar without asking, as though he knew women always took sugar. “When I grew into maturity, I read a great deal, but as a youth-” he shrugged-“I was completely indifferent.” He lifted a liquor decanter. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course not.”
“Would you like some? It’s a very fine cognac.”
“Perhaps just a little.” She smiled. “I had a very trying day.”
Pouring them both a glass, he set hers down beside her teacup, leaned back in his chair, and resting his goblet on his chair arm, said very softly, “You wouldn’t have to work.”
“Pray, say no more.” She held his gaze. “What I have agreed to is temporary.”
He gazed at her over the rim of his glass. “I dislike seeing you in such reduced straits. It seems unfair.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, the world is unfair.” She smiled tightly. “Although, perhaps in your privileged case, that fact has escaped you.”
“Au contraire, darling. I have drunk away a good many years because the world has been unfair.” As though in illustration, he lifted his glass to his mouth and drained it.
“Then we need not argue.”
His smile was instant and above all amiable. “I agree.” Refilling his glass, he indicated her teacup with a dip of his head. “Drink your tea, try some of those pink frosted cakes, and we will speak of more pleasant things. Did your sister enjoy herself at Catherine’s rout?”
“She did. And I think she’s found a new beau. I hope you’re not offended.”
He laughed. “Not likely.”
“I’m not certain who it is. My aunt, of course, wouldn’t hear of anyone but you as a suitor, so Harriet dropped the subject.” Taking a sip of tea, she found the tension in her shoulders and neck noticeably lessen.
“I’d say it’s Seego.”
“He did look rather enamored last night. Might he be serious? I shouldn’t like Harriet hurt. By the way, these cakes are delicious.”
She had a delicate pink frosting residue on her lips that was tantalizing as hell. “I’ll let my chef know you liked them,” he said, restraining an impulse to kiss away the frosting. “As for Seego, he is most serious. He sought me out last night at Brooks. His concern was that I had some prior arrangement with your sister. I assured him that he was quite wrong in that regard.” Ormond grinned. “I have found the elder Miss Russell more to my liking.”