Evelyn Richardson by The Scandalous Widow Page B

certainly no need… That is to say, it is most gracious of you to offer, but I am sure that your niece would prefer to be alone with you since she is so recently arrived at the academy.”
    “Oh, I was not intending for her to accompany us. It is you I wish to induce to join me. It strikes me that a headmistress who takes her duty as seriously as you obviously do, and far more seriously than my niece will ever take her lessons—or anything else in her life, for that matter—is in much greater need of a break from her tasks than any of her pupils.”
    And without giving Catherine a moment to recover from her confusion, much less frame a reply, Lucian flashed her an impish grin and closed the door behind him, leaving her, he hoped, prey to a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, the same sort of conflicting emotions that were playing havoc with his own well-ordered existence.
    Not since he had met Catherine the first time had he been so unsure of a woman, so uncertain as to what was going on under that coolly professional exterior of hers. And not since he had met her the first time had he been so determined to find out. Surely there was more there than the rigorously responsible headmistress? Surely that passion, that quick appreciation for the ridiculous in all things, that lively curiosity, that urge to learn everything, had not vanished entirely in the sober owner of Lady Catherine Granville’s Select Academy? And surely if such a vital creature still existed under that somber exterior, the Marquess of Charlmont was just the man to discover it. He would start that discovery tomorrow.
    In the meantime, it had been a long day spent in the company of a determined young lady who had done her best to adopt a suspiciously false demureness, so suspicious that her uncle had found himself constantly on the alert for the appearance of a young gentleman at every crossroad and every hostelry they passed. After hours of such enforced watchfulness, Lucian was most definitely in need of the excellent refreshment and all the comforts to be found at the White Hart.
     
    Chapter Ten
     
    Unfortunately for Catherine, she did not have the distraction of the taproom of the White Hart. After tidying up her desk for the evening, she checked with the footman to see that Arabella’s things had been delivered to the chamber she was to share with Olivia. Then, having assured herself that the two girls were engaged in a lively discussion of where the very best gloves, bonnets, ribbons, and all the other necessities of life were to be found, as well as the competing merits of Bath’s numerous circulating libraries, she went in search of Margaret Denholme in the hope that her conversation during the journey home could be counted on to obliterate all thoughts of the Marquess of Charlmont from her mind.
    When Catherine had said goodbye to Lucian after his first visit to the academy, she had chided herself for allowing her relief at his return to his own life to be tempered by just a hint of regret that he would have no reason to return to Bath once he had selected a school for his niece. Now that he had, she was equally as disturbed by his presence as she once had been by the prospect of his absence. What was wrong with her? And why did the thought of riding alone with him in a carriage the next day plunge her into such a state of agitation?
    Margaret’s presence in the carriage on the way home did offer diversion of a kind, for she was still fretting over Lord Granville’s veiled threats to her father’s living. “You know Papa as well as I do; he would never consent to being bullied, even if his principles were not being challenged, but they are. And he is too proud to ask any of his more powerful and influential friends and acquaintances for assistance.”
    “Have no fear,” Catherine reassured her. “We are fortunate in one thing, and that is that ‘Ugolino’ is an even greater coward than he is a bully. And the two things he fears most