Winterberry Fire: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (Winterberry Park Book 2)(5)

“But why not keep letters for reading and numbers for maths? Why do both?” Ursula blinked, her blue eyes round, her braids hanging in twin strands over her shoulders. “And besides,” she went on, “everyone can see that X is 12.”

Tim’s jaw dropped. He glanced over Ursula’s shoulder to the chalkboard, then to the older boys, who were frowning furiously over their slates as they worked out the problem. “How did you figure that?” he asked, nonplussed.

Ursula shrugged. “I just saw it.” She grinned from ear to ear. “Can I go now, sir?”

Tim stood slowly, shaking his head and laughing. He rested his hand on Ursula’s head for a moment, then said, “Yes, Ursula, you may go.” As the amazing girl skipped down the aisle to the back of the quickly-emptying schoolroom, he ran a hand through his hair. There went the future, provided Ursula’s parents didn’t yank her out of school to work in someone’s scullery, or to marry barely out of the schoolroom and start producing babies of her own whose potential would be wasted.

He shook his head and continued back up the aisle to his desk and the boys who would be testing for university soon. The older, gossiping girls still clustered on their side of the aisle, sending him occasional looks. He let them loiter after classes, so their presence wasn’t unusual.

“Did any of you give Ursula Marks the answer to the equation?” he asked.

“No, sir,” all three of them answered.

He could see they were telling the truth. Tim shook his head. It was a crying shame how much potential was wasted by the assumption that girls and women weren’t capable of the same intelligence as men. Time and time again in his days as a teacher he’d seen girls excel, only to be cut off and pushed into domestic life.

Those thoughts skipped straight on to Ada Bell. He paused to take a deep breath as her lovely visage came to mind. Ada had approached him two years ago, asking to be taught to read. She’d never been to school. Her family had shunted her straight into service as soon as she could hold a broom. But Ada had turned out to be bright and lively, not to mention eager to learn. Tutoring her had been a joy. More than a joy. It had taken every ounce of concentration he had not to reach across the desk to take her hand and kiss it, to kiss her all over.

“Sir?” George asked. “Is the answer twelve?”

Tim shook himself out of his thoughts, blushing like mad. “Yes, it is. Good job, Floss.” He continued on to his desk, wishing it was one of Ada’s lesson days. “Since time is running short, I have a list of algebraic problems here for you to work on at home. You can copy them to your slates, then you’re dismissed.”

He brought the list to the row of desks where George sat, then returned to his desk, sitting on the edge. A breath escaped his lungs as a weary sigh. He rubbed a hand over his face. Starting a school had seemed like such a good idea. He’d known from an early age he would be on his own when it came to making a living. His father might have been a baron, but as the ninth of twelve children, he wasn’t even close to inheriting the title, and what little money the family had was stretched paper-thin. He’d been fated to take a step down in the world from the moment he was born.

He wasn’t unhappy with his fate, not really. He loved teaching, loved children. He was used to the chaos of child mobs, having grown up in one. Perhaps he should embrace this life fully and completely. Perhaps it was time for him to marry and start a family of his own. Ada would make the perfect wife. She was beautiful, intelligent, and hard-working.

A grin broke out on his face as he thought of her, his gaze settling on the group of older girls, still chattering. Ada was so unlike them. He hadn’t seen her engaging in idle gossip once in all the time he’d known her. Ada was industrious. One would have to be to learn to read as an adult. She was strong and brave. He would be proud to have her standing beside him in life. And he wasn’t prudish enough to shy away from the idea of her lying under him as well. The way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, the way she bit her lip just so while figuring out a difficult passage of prose, the way she stayed late to talk to him about any old thing…he was sure she would be fiery in bed.

“Sir?”

Tim cleared his throat, pushing himself to his feet, heat flooding his face. “Yes, Alice?”

Alice Jones glanced to her friends, then stood to address Tim. “Are you quite all right, sir?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Though he dreaded to think what kind of expression he’d been wearing as he dreamed of Ada.

Alice took a tentative step forward. “Only, it was rather a scene in here today.”

A different kind of embarrassment flooded Tim. “Yes, well, it comes with a high enrollment.”

“I was thinking,” Alice continued, lowering her head slightly and glancing up at him through her lashes. “I’ll be graduating in the spring. I’m almost seventeen, sir. I could…I could help you.”

Tim blinked. “You could?”

Alice glanced back to her friends, who grinned and blushed in typically girlish fashion, nodding and egging her on. She returned her look to Tim. “You need another teacher, sir. One to instruct the younger children while you teach the older ones.” Her breath caught on the end of her sentence, and a flush painted her young face.

Tim tilted his head to the side. “Yes, I suppose that would be precisely what I needed.”