The Headmistress of Rosemere by Sarah E Ladd Page B

coral trim on her gown. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I’ll come back la—”
    “Nonsense.” Miss Creighton stood and waved her in. “Mr. Sterling, allow me to present Miss Baden, one of our teachers here at Rosemere.”
    William offered a stiff bow. “Miss Baden. My pleasure.”
    She stared at him, her light brown eyes unblinking, before returning the greeting with a quick curtsy. She then turned back to Miss Creighton. “It is Louisa. She is having trouble with her French again, and you said that you have a book you wanted her to read.”
    “Ah, yes.” Miss Creighton turned to the bookcase and pulled a worn brown book from a shelf. She flipped through the pages before handing it to Miss Baden. “Have her start here. She should have no problem with it at all. Tell her I will hear her this evening before bed.”
    Miss Baden took the book, tucked it under her arm, dropped a curtsy, and hurried from the room. Miss Creighton returned to her seat, and William struggled to remember what they had been discussing.
    Miss Creighton’s expression was calm, as if she were accustomed to such interruptions. “As you were saying, Mr. Sterling?”
    He resettled himself and attempted to recall exactly what he had said. So many thoughts went through his head. So many thoughts to convey. But her closeness and the nearly constant activity were distractions. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I will take a cup of tea, Miss Creighton.”
    She smiled as if pleased and stood to pull the cord behind the desk.
    He used the time to gather his thoughts. “I did also want to let you know of a few changes. Normally I would have had such a conversation with your father or your brother, but do I remember correctly? Did you not say your brother is away?”
    A twitch jumped in her cheek. “Rawdon is in London.” The inflection of her voice lowered. She looked at the floor.
    His desire to refrain from overstepping his boundaries overruled his curiosity. “Well then, am I to assume you are the proper person with whom I should discuss business matters?”
    “Yes, sir, that is correct. I am the headmistress now.”
    William pushed his fingers through his hair. This sort of business had normally been handled by another. And never, in his wildest imagination, would he have anticipated discussing such matters with a woman. But Miss Creighton’s quiet confidence boosted his resolve to continue.
    “I trust, then, you are accustomed to dealing with Mr. Livingstone.”
    “Your steward. Of course. He was last here about a month ago.”
    William nodded. “He has been relieved of his duties. For the time being, I will be handling all affairs with Rosemere. Personally.”
    A hint of a frown crossed her face.
    Did she disapprove of his decision? Or perhaps doubt his ability? His confidence already shaken, he did not want to appear weak in front of a tenant, especially one who was such a beautiful woman, so he hastened to add, “Until arrangements for a new steward can be made.”
    Her frown dissipated. “Well then, I shall look forward to working with you on—”
    The door flew open again. This time an older woman with a white smock over her black dress stepped in. She didn’t bother to look in his direction. “Dinner’s going to be late, Miss Creighton. George has gone to Fletcher’s to fetch the—”
    “Mary, please.” Miss Creighton jumped to her feet, a flush coloring her cheeks at the sudden intrusion. “We have a guest.”
    The woman turned, looked down a hawk nose, her expression pinched, and made no effort to hide an obvious repulsion to the marks on his face.
    He adjusted his position uncomfortably under the woman’s scrutiny. Was this woman a servant? A teacher?
    The woman drew in a sharp breath. “I’ll come back.”
    After she left, William, more amused than offended, said,“Well, Miss Creighton, ’tis a wonder indeed that you are ever able to complete a thought! This appears to be a busy room.”
    She smiled. “Well, with