Winterberry Fire: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (Winterberry Park Book 2)(14)

“He will not,” Alice insisted. “He’ll be as pleased as I am.”

“Do you remember what he did to Bobby Walters last summer when he caught the two of you kissing under the chestnut tree?” Petunia teased her.

Alice’s face heated. “That was a misunderstanding.”

“That ended with Bobby sporting a black eye and so many bruises on his bum that he couldn’t sit for a week,” Bethel laughed.

Alice tilted her chin up and sniffed. “Bobby wasn’t worthy of my attention. Mr. Turnbridge is.”

“I still say you’re dreaming,” Petunia laughed.

“Not even that,” Bethel added. “She’s sick in the head.”

“I am not,” Alice snapped. “And I’ll prove it to you.”

“How?” Petunia crossed her arms.

Alice broke into a secretive smile, thinking of the rendezvous she had planned for after school. She was certain Mr. Turnbridge would give her his poem then. He might even read it aloud to her. He might bring her flowers, and, if she was lucky, they could do something as scandalous as kissing.

“You’ll see,” she said, not wanting to share her secrets with her friends. “And when you do, you’ll both be so jealous.”





Chapter 5





Mary rushed down to the cottage early. She wanted to be sure she was ready for Mr. Turnbridge when he arrived. Her plan to drive a wedge between the teacher and Ada would surely work, but she would have to exert all her feminine wiles to carry it off.

As soon as she unlocked the front door and whisked herself inside, she headed straight for the bedroom. That was where it would all happen. She tossed aside her cloak and made quick work of the buttons of her uniform dress. She hated the unattractive, black thing, and was certain she looked a thousand times more beautiful in her chemise, corset and drawers. Although, on second thought, she could probably do without the corset too. She stripped that off, then draped herself across the bed.

She tried several different positions, biting her lip as she decided which one would be the most seductive. She’d settled on lying on her back, propped on her elbows, with her legs spread wide open, everything that mattered on display to whoever walked into the cottage’s main room, when there was a knock at the door.

“Hello?”

Mary gasped. It wasn’t the teacher. It was a woman.

“Hello?”

Worse still, it was Ada.

Mary didn’t wait. The second she heard the doorknob turn, she leapt off the bed and gathered all her clothes from the floor. Heart in her throat, she searched the small bedroom, desperate for anywhere to hide. There was plenty of space under the bed, but the closet seemed a much better option.

She lunged for the closet as the front door creaked open, shoving all her clothes inside, then leaping after them. As quietly as she could, she shut the closet door, held her breath, and waited.



“Hello?”

Ada stepped into the cottage with a puzzled frown. It was supposed to be locked. She searched the main room, but nothing seemed to be out of order. It looked exactly like it had the last time she’d come down to dust and straighten, by Mrs. Croydon’s special request. It was likely that the Croydons had snuck down to the cottage to enjoy an afternoon of privacy without her knowing about it, and it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary if they’d simply forgotten to lock the door behind them.

She let out a breath and shook her head. She was here for a reason, to sort things with Tad, and she needed to keep her wits about her to face that. Tad would be there any moment. She’d sent him a significant look in the servant’s quarters before slipping out. Fortunately, as painful as the conversation she was about to have would be, it would be short, and once it was done, she could focus on what mattered.

As soon as she heard footsteps approaching the cottage, she sucked in a breath and clasped a hand to her stomach. She turned away from the door, gathering her thoughts and running through the words she’d rehearsed in her mind. The door opened, and heavy footsteps crossed into the room. She turned.

And gasped.

“Oh. Hello.” Tim stood before her, a bright smile on his handsome face and a single, pink rose in his hand. Tim. Not Tad.

Ada’s heart flipped with joy and nervous excitement in her chest. Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, all she could do was stand where she was and gape at him.

“I’m glad we have a chance to meet like this at last,” Tim went on, approaching her slowly, twirling the rose’s stem in his fingers. There was a charming shyness in his expression, even though his eyes were alive with fire. “You know I’ve wanted to speak to you about this for a long time.”

Warmth spilled through Ada, and she smiled. “You have?”

She wasn’t exactly sure what “this” was, or how he could appear so…certain after stumbling across her in the cottage by accident. Why was he at the cottage anyhow, and where did he get a rose in the middle of February?

She didn’t have a chance to find out. Tim came closer and presented the rose to her. “I had to search all over for a bloom as fresh and beautiful as you are.”

Ada caught her breath, smiling from ear to ear. “It’s beautiful.” She held the rose to her nose and breathed in. “Wherever did you find this?”