Someone to Love (Westcott #1)(93)
“Without your prayers, then,” he said, “I might never have met your Miss Snow and married her and made her my duchess. My life would have been all the poorer for the lack. I will remember that I have you to thank for my happiness, young lady.”
“Oh, not me,” Winifred assured him, pointing piously upward.
It happened in the schoolroom, where Miss Ford had summoned all the children, school for the day having been dismissed. And they had all come pouring in, even the toddlers in the care of some of the older girls, and gazed in wonder and awe at their Miss Snow, who was now as close to being a princess as it was possible to get without actually being one. Most of them were still in high spirits after a visit from Bertha Reed earlier in the day.
Anna introduced her husband, and he bowed and smiled while the children applauded and cheered.
“Miss Snow,” Olga Norton said, waving her hand high in the air when the noise died down a bit. “Miss Nunce told us you were wrong to teach us to dream because dreams don’t come true for nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand people, especially people like us. She said you were a bad influence.”
There was a swell of aggrieved assent.
Oh dear. Miss Nunce, Anna recalled, was the new teacher.
“Olga!” Miss Ford sounded acutely embarrassed.
“Well, you know,” Anna said, “Miss Nunce is quite correct. Very few dreams come true in exactly the way we dream them. But dreams can come true in unexpected ways that bring just as much happiness. If you dream of being the captain of a great sailing ship, you may not achieve your dream. But you may realize that a life on the seas is what you want and become a sailor and see the world and be the happiest person you can possibly be. And if you dream of marrying a prince—or a duke—you may not achieve that dream, for there are not very many princes and dukes available.”
She paused to let the delighted laughter die down, during which several of the children pointed at Avery and screeched with glee. “But you may find a man who will love you and provide for you and win your devotion, and you may marry him and be happy for the rest of your life. The same may be true in reverse for the boys. Dreams are very important, for they can give us many hours of pleasure, and they can help inspire us and point us in the direction we need to go in life. But what is the most important fact about ourselves that we must always, always remember? Who can tell me?”
Several hands stretched high.
“Tommy?”
“That we are just as important as anyone else, miss,” Tommy said. “Just as important as him.” He pointed cheekily at Avery. “But not more important than anyone else.”
“Exactly so,” she said, beaming at him. “But I do not mean to contradict what Miss Nunce has taught you. I believe she does not want any of you to be disappointed if the grandest of your dreams never come true. She does not want to see you hurt. She wants you to see that there are success and fulfillment and happiness to be found in all sorts of surprising places. Life often moves us in unexpected directions. But goodness me, most of you have already spent much of the day in the schoolroom here learning your lessons. I will not keep you longer. I will allow Miss Ford to dismiss you. But I think of you all every day, you know. I was happy here. It is a happy place.”
The children cheered again but showed no reluctance to be set free. Anna bit her lip, on the verge of tears. She loved them all so dearly. It was not a sentimental or a pitying love, though. They all had a path in life to forge and follow, and really they had as much chance of a good life as most children who grew up in a home with their parents. Even those children’s lives were not without challenges.
“I am not at all sure I spoke the truth about Miss Nunce,” she said to Avery as they made their way back to the hotel, still on foot. “If she kills those children’s dreams, she will take away from them something that is infinitely precious. What would they be, what would any of us be, without dreams?”
“You must not distress yourself,” he said. “The woman sounds like a killjoy to me and ought not to be allowed within two miles of a schoolroom. She opposed the idea of books for the children, did she not? But she does not have the power to kill dreams, Anna. Dreams are as natural and as essential to us as breathing. Those children will dream on. The boys will want to be another Lord Nelson, though presumably without his death. The girls will want to marry a prince or be another Joan of Arc without the martyrdom.”
“Do even dukes dream?” she asked him.
“I was not a duke as a child,” he said, “merely a marquess.”
“And do marquesses dream?”
“Of course,” he said.
“What?” she asked. “What did you dream of? What do you dream of?”
He was silent for so long that she thought he was not going to answer her. They were almost up to the doors of the hotel before he spoke.
“Someone to love,” he said softly when it was just too late for her to make any reply.
*
Anna’s friend Joel Cunningham joined them for dinner that evening in a private dining room at the Royal York. He came striding into the room, three minutes early, dressed unexceptionably but unimaginatively for evening. He was tall—though not particularly so—and broad of girth though not by any means fat. He had a round, open countenance, very short, dark hair and dark eyes. He had good teeth—he was smiling.