continued to run down the driveway, racing the others to the gate. She smiled and shook her head ruefully.
She made her way back into the manor, stepping out the way of more exiting students, all rushing home for lunch. “Robert, your brother is already racing to the gate.” The fleet-footed boy was gone in a flash, dust kicking up from his heels. She saw a young lady slip on the marble stair. “Maisie, mind your step.” Sara rushed to ensure the girl was fine.
“Miss Collins, me mam sez I kin have a cake for me birf-day Saturday next!”
“Is that so, Dudley? Aren’t you lucky!” Sara turned when she felt a sharp tap, almost a push, on her back, to see two of the older boys running down the hall, laughing over their shoulders. She called out for them to slow down, but they ignored her. Furrowing her brow, she turned back to see Maisie looking at her.
“It was Henry, miss,” Maisie said, her voice almost a whisper and her eyes wide.
“What was?” Sara asked.
“He put ink all over his hand when Mrs. Knightly was teaching us sketching. He pushed you so his handprint is on your back.”
She twisted to see if she could locate the handprint, but to no avail. “Thank you, Maisie. Enjoy your lunch.” She escorted the girl out, waving the last pupils off.
Turning to make her way to the morning room, Sara pursed her lips and sighed. Henry was a bane of her existence and the primary reason she had not been able to teach the older students. Constant disruption and general disrespect were his common behaviors, and once he’d discovered he could best her in controlling the other students, he became even worse. Sara ended many days in tears before Claire and Louisa stepped in. Claire appeared to be doing a better job with him, but he was still their most difficult student.
She entered the morning room, which also served as their combined offices and general meeting area. Anna was already laying an informal light buffet luncheon of cold meats, cheese, bread and fruit for the teachers to share. Smiling at the maid, Sara sat at her desk to make brief notes of how the morning had progressed.
It was several minutes before she was joined by Claire. “Why is it that children are always the most energetic when you are tired?” her friend asked as she entered the room. She sat on the sofa and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.
“Are you unwell?” Sara asked, looking at her in concern. Claire didn’t normally look so pale.
“Yes, I—good heavens, what happened to your dress?”
Sara grimaced at her friend’s surprised tone and twisted to give her a better view. “Henry Copeland happened,” she said. “He decided to take your art lesson outside of the schoolroom.”
Claire pursed her lips and shook her head. “We are going to have to speak with his parents. This sort of behavior cannot continue.”
“Whose behavior cannot continue?” Louisa asked, entering. She made her way directly to the buffet and began filling a plate.
“Look what Henry Copeland did to Sara’s dress.” Sara twisted again to allow Louisa to see.
Louisa’s face darkened. “The little ba—”
“Louisa,” Claire said in a warning tone. The blond lady pressed her lips into a thin line and continued to fill her plate, her movements angry. Claire turned back to Sara. “We will have to discuss this later, after classes have been dismissed. He is obviously not responding to our discipline methods.”
“What’s this?” Jacob joined the conversation as he entered the room. He squeezed his wife’s shoulder in greeting and joined Louisa at the buffet. He gestured a plate at Claire, who nodded and moved to the small dining table. “What happened?”
“Henry Copeland ruined Sara’s dress,” Louisa said in a dark tone.
“Really?” He looked at her.
Claire interrupted to address Jacob. “We need to come up with a better strategy to curtail Henry’s disruptive behavior.”
Jacob shrugged. “I will beat him for
She made her way back into the manor, stepping out the way of more exiting students, all rushing home for lunch. “Robert, your brother is already racing to the gate.” The fleet-footed boy was gone in a flash, dust kicking up from his heels. She saw a young lady slip on the marble stair. “Maisie, mind your step.” Sara rushed to ensure the girl was fine.
“Miss Collins, me mam sez I kin have a cake for me birf-day Saturday next!”
“Is that so, Dudley? Aren’t you lucky!” Sara turned when she felt a sharp tap, almost a push, on her back, to see two of the older boys running down the hall, laughing over their shoulders. She called out for them to slow down, but they ignored her. Furrowing her brow, she turned back to see Maisie looking at her.
“It was Henry, miss,” Maisie said, her voice almost a whisper and her eyes wide.
“What was?” Sara asked.
“He put ink all over his hand when Mrs. Knightly was teaching us sketching. He pushed you so his handprint is on your back.”
She twisted to see if she could locate the handprint, but to no avail. “Thank you, Maisie. Enjoy your lunch.” She escorted the girl out, waving the last pupils off.
Turning to make her way to the morning room, Sara pursed her lips and sighed. Henry was a bane of her existence and the primary reason she had not been able to teach the older students. Constant disruption and general disrespect were his common behaviors, and once he’d discovered he could best her in controlling the other students, he became even worse. Sara ended many days in tears before Claire and Louisa stepped in. Claire appeared to be doing a better job with him, but he was still their most difficult student.
She entered the morning room, which also served as their combined offices and general meeting area. Anna was already laying an informal light buffet luncheon of cold meats, cheese, bread and fruit for the teachers to share. Smiling at the maid, Sara sat at her desk to make brief notes of how the morning had progressed.
It was several minutes before she was joined by Claire. “Why is it that children are always the most energetic when you are tired?” her friend asked as she entered the room. She sat on the sofa and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.
“Are you unwell?” Sara asked, looking at her in concern. Claire didn’t normally look so pale.
“Yes, I—good heavens, what happened to your dress?”
Sara grimaced at her friend’s surprised tone and twisted to give her a better view. “Henry Copeland happened,” she said. “He decided to take your art lesson outside of the schoolroom.”
Claire pursed her lips and shook her head. “We are going to have to speak with his parents. This sort of behavior cannot continue.”
“Whose behavior cannot continue?” Louisa asked, entering. She made her way directly to the buffet and began filling a plate.
“Look what Henry Copeland did to Sara’s dress.” Sara twisted again to allow Louisa to see.
Louisa’s face darkened. “The little ba—”
“Louisa,” Claire said in a warning tone. The blond lady pressed her lips into a thin line and continued to fill her plate, her movements angry. Claire turned back to Sara. “We will have to discuss this later, after classes have been dismissed. He is obviously not responding to our discipline methods.”
“What’s this?” Jacob joined the conversation as he entered the room. He squeezed his wife’s shoulder in greeting and joined Louisa at the buffet. He gestured a plate at Claire, who nodded and moved to the small dining table. “What happened?”
“Henry Copeland ruined Sara’s dress,” Louisa said in a dark tone.
“Really?” He looked at her.
Claire interrupted to address Jacob. “We need to come up with a better strategy to curtail Henry’s disruptive behavior.”
Jacob shrugged. “I will beat him for
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