“No, but I trained myself to use all weapons, and this one offers the most exercise and requires the greatest dexterity, quickness, agility, and cunning, so training in its use has more than one benefit. But for you in particular, it will teach you to avoid grappling, which a man will most definitely attempt with you, thinking he can subdue you with his superior strength. So it will teach you to keep your distance no matter the weapon at hand.”
“But I will probably never be required to use it to defend myself?”
“No, you won’t carry a rapier to defend yourself. You will master the pistol for that.”
Sword fighting was simply a form of exercise to keep her fit. She understood that. She came to look forward to those practice sessions with Poppie as the highlight of her days. Unlike some of her other tutors, he was always calm and patient with her.
Annette had risked losing her job when she’d confronted Poppie about the new turn Alana’s studies were taking. Alana had caught the tail end of that argument as she passed Poppie’s study one day. “Weapons? Good Lord, she’s already too bold and opinionated, and now you put weapons in her hands? You’ve given her a man’s education. How do you expect me to counter that at this late date?”
“I don’t expect you to counter it,” Poppie had calmly replied. “I expect you to teach her that she will have choices in how to deal with people. What you criticize as being too bold, manly even, will only be a benefit to her.”
“But it’s not ladylike, not in the least.”
Poppie had chuckled. “It’s enough that you teach her manners and all the other things a lady should know. Keep in mind, you aren’t creating a lady out of thin air. She’s already a lady of the highest caliber. And I’m not going to deny her a real education just because she’s a woman.”
“But she questions everything I’m trying to teach her, just as a man would.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I taught her to be thorough, even meticulous, in the analysis of any given situation. If anything strikes her as odd, she’s not to shrug it off, but to find out why. I have confidence you will persevere without disrupting what she’s already been taught.”
With that remark sounding like a warning, the discussion had ended right then and there.
Now, Alana stepped back from Poppie and moved to the wall to put her weapon away. It was time for her to tell him what was distracting her. She couldn’t put it off any longer.
“I have some unexpected decisions to make, Poppie. Can we discuss them tonight at dinner, or as soon as I get back from the orphanage?”
She knew he would be frowning now. He might not have forbade it, but he didn’t like her going to the orphanage even though it was his orphanage. When she’d found out last year about this institution he had established soon after they’d arrived in London and had been supporting ever since, she’d been incredulous. She didn’t know why he’d never mentioned it to her. Because her later education had leaned toward turning her into a lady? And ladies shouldn’t associate with urchins from the slums? But his explanation had been simple.
“I was given a new life here, a second chance. I felt unworthy of it. I needed to give something back, to try to give others the same chance I was given for a new life. It took me a few years to figure out that the people most in need of my help were the most hopeless, the homeless street urchins.”
A worthy cause. Could she do any less? It had seemed so natural for her to decide to teach there. Her education had included so many different subjects and skills that she was far more qualified than any of the other teachers. She loved doing it. Whether she should continue to teach at the orphanage was one of the decisions she had to confront because teaching wasn’t at all compatible with the other two paths she could choose.
“I’ve made a decision as well,” he said, standing behind her. “I never thought this day would be so momentous for you, but I cannot put off this matter any longer. Come to my office now.”
Good Lord, was she going to have even more choices set before her? She swung around abruptly and saw how uneasy he looked. He couldn’t see the apprehension in her gray-blue eyes through the fencing mask she hadn’t yet removed. Momentous? That sounded so much more important than her own dilemma.
He turned to the door, expecting her to follow him. “Wait, Poppie. The children have planned a birthday party for me. They’ll be disappointed if I don’t visit the orphanage today.”
He didn’t immediately answer. He had to think about it? When he cared for those children as much as she did?
He finally said, “Very well, but don’t be long.”
He left the room before he could see her hesitant nod. By rote she removed her mask, the padded jacket, and the tie that bound back her long black hair. Now she was filled with dread.
Chapter Two
THE PARTY DIDN’T HELP Alana to relax or to stop thinking about what lay ahead of her. If anything, the children’s squabbling exasperated her today, enough that she snapped at Henry Mathews, “Do I need to box your ears?”
Henry was one of her favorites. Many of the children at the orphanage who didn’t know their real names had adopted Poppie’s surname with his permission. Henry had had to be different, though, and had picked Poppie’s first name instead.
But Henry was also different in other ways. He didn’t just show a keen intelligence by quickly grasping everything he was taught, he’d also discovered and developed a talent that would serve him well when he left the orphanage. He could carve the most beautiful things out of wood: ornaments, people, animals. He’d given Alana a carving of herself. She’d been so touched the day he’d thrust it into her hands then run off in embarrassment. She’d repaid Henry by taking him on an outing in Hyde Park and had encouraged him to bring along some of his carvings. One of the vendors there had paid Henry several pounds for them, more money than he’d ever before had in his pockets. It finally convinced him that his talent was worthwhile.
She’d caught him just now grappling with one of the younger boys over one of his carvings. But to her threat, he just grinned cheekily at her. “You wouldn’t box me ears. You’re too nice.”
No, she wouldn’t. She had a better tool to use. She gave him a look of disappointment. “I thought you were learning to share your carvings with those less fortunate than you.”
“ ’E ain’t less—”
“That you agreed it was the charitable thing to do,” she reminded him.
Henry ducked his head. But he shoved the toy soldier at the younger boy, who immediately ran off with it.
“ ’E breaks it and I’ll break ’is bleedin’ neck,” Henry mumbled.
Alana tsked. “Perhaps we should work on attitude? Being generous should have warmed your heart, particularly since you can replace that toy easily.”
He gave her a stricken look. “It took me four ’ours to make that. I stayed up late to do it, then fell asleep in class the next day and got punished for it. ’E took it from me chest. Maybe you should be teachin’ ’im not to steal instead o’ teachin’ me to give away me ’ard work.”
She groaned and put out a hand to stop him from running off, but Henry was too fast. She’d been too stern with him. Her being worried was no excuse. She’d apologize to him tomorrow, but right now she had to get home.
But Henry caught her at the door as she was tying her cloak on and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t!” he said earnestly.
She patted his head. “I know, and I’m the one who needs to apologize. A gift isn’t a gift unless it’s given freely. I’ll get your toy back tomorrow.”
“Already ’ave it back,” he said, letting go of her. “’E were just pullin’ me strings to rile me. ’E went straight back to the dormitory and tossed it on me bed. And it were for you, teacher, for your birthday. Can’t ’ave the other carving standin’ alone, eh?”
She took the carving he held out to her. The little soldier was carved in meticulous detail. She grinned. “You see me p
aired with a soldier?”
“They got courage. It will take a bunch o’ that for a man—”
She caught his drift and interrupted with a laugh. “Come now, I’m not so intimidating that a man would need to be courageous to marry me?”
“It ain’t that, it’s wot you got up ’ere.” He tapped his head. “Women ain’t suppose to be as smart as you are.”
“My uncle disagrees. He arranged my education. And we’ve moved into an enlightened age, Henry. Men aren’t the barbarians they used to be. They’ve opened their eyes.”
He mulled over that for a moment, then said, “If Mathew Farmer thinks so, then it must be so.”
She raised a brow. “No further arguments to support your contention?”
“No, ma’am.”
His quick reply made her laugh. The children idolized her uncle. Of course they wouldn’t disagree with anything he said or did.
She ruffled Henry’s hair. “I’ll put the soldier by the other carving anyway. He’ll be her protector. She’ll like that.”
He beamed at her before he hurried off again. Henry had just made her decision for her, she realized. How could she not continue teaching here?
A gust of cold wind almost dislodged her bonnet as she stepped outside and hurried to the waiting coach. She hoped Mary had the brazier burning. She’d been Alana’s nanny before becoming her maid and occasionally served as her chaperone, but Mary was getting old. She could have come inside the orphanage to wait, but she preferred the quiet of the coach, where she could knit in peace.
Alana thought it was silly for the coach to wait at the curb for her. It could just as easily have returned for her at an appointed time. But it waited at Poppie’s insistence. She was never to be kept waiting anywhere and never was to leave the house without a full escort, which included two footmen and one of the women to serve as her chaperone.
Lady Annette had been Alana’s chaperone for the first six months she had taught at the orphanage. While Lady Annette supported charitable endeavors, she’d firmly disapproved of Alana’s actually teaching there daily because it had the appearance of being a “job.” But Annette had grown as fond of the children as Alana had, and Annette had even started teaching a few classes. She’d seemed to enjoy it, until Lord Adam Chapman came upon them leaving one day.
“Alana?”
The footman who had been holding the coach door open for her closed it again for Mary’s sake as Alana turned at the sound of her name. Speaking of the devil, she thought with some amusement. Adam was doffing his hat to her. She gave him a warm smile. She was always relaxed in his presence and attributed it to his amiability and wonderful sense of humor.
“I didn’t forget what day this is,” Lord Chapman continued, and handed her a bouquet of yellow flowers. “A momentous day for most young ladies.”
She wished he hadn’t used the word momentous. It reminded her of what awaited her at home.
“Thank you,” she said. “But where on earth did you find flowers, so late in the year?”
“I have my sources.” He grinned mysteriously, but then laughed and confessed, “My mum keeps a hothouse, well, her gardeners do. Wouldn’t catch her mucking about in the dirt, even for pretty results.”
His parents lived in Mayfair, but Adam had told her he had his own flat just down the street from the orphanage, and once or twice a week she would find him passing by. He always stopped to converse with her, listening to her anecdotes about the children with interest, and divulging bits and pieces of his own life.
Alana had met Adam because Annette had known him before she’d married Lord Hensen. He’d been walking by the orphanage one afternoon when Alana and Annette had been leaving, and he’d greeted Annette warmly. He’d kept showing up to try to renew their acquaintance, but while Annette was polite, her manner turned cool and aloof every time she saw him. She would never say why, despite Alana’s probing. But she’d stopped accompanying Alana to the orphanage. That, however, didn’t stop Adam from showing up.
Alana had been flattered when he’d turned his attention to her. How could she not be when he was so handsome and charming? He was in his early thirties, the same age as Annette, but he looked much younger.
Alana thought about once again inviting Adam to dinner so he could meet Poppie, but—no, not today. She’d invited him a few times before, but her timing hadn’t been good because he’d already been committed elsewhere. But soon.
It was getting too cold to stand there on the curb for these little chats, though, and Mary must have thought so as well because she opened the coach door to remind Alana, “It’s time to go, m’dear.”
“Indeed,” Adam agreed, and took her hand to help her into the coach, then said with a jaunty grin, “Until the next time we happen to cross paths.”
Alana laughed as he closed the door. Their meetings always seemed to be happenstance, but they weren’t. He knew exactly what time she left the orphanage, and that was always when he would walk by so they could have one of their chats at curbside.
An earl’s son, his family rich, Adam was the kind of young man Poppie would certainly approve of. And he’d given her flowers today! That was definitely a sign that he was ready to take their relationship up a step. Had he only been waiting until she turned eighteen to start courting her? Quite possibly. He’d even mentioned the word marriage last month, though she was pretty sure it had only been something about how the time was approaching for him to start thinking about it. She couldn’t even remember why he’d mentioned it, though that was when he’d actually become her third decision. Or he would be, if he got around to courting her in the proper way.
Chapter Three
ALANA WAS RARELY NERVOUS. Perhaps she felt a little apprehensive when a new tutor was scheduled to arrive, but that was nothing compared to what she was feeling now as she walked down the hall to Poppie’s office. What if Poppie insisted she keep to the path Lady Annette had laid out for her two years ago? Annette had been preparing Alana for her come-out in London society. She assumed that Alana would want to do the same thing other young ladies her age were being groomed to do. Alana had been looking forward to the endless round of balls and dinner parties where she would meet potential suitors—before she’d discovered how gratifying it was to open young minds to possibilities they’d never before considered. She couldn’t imagine quitting her work at the orphanage.
But she knew the two worlds weren’t compatible. “You’ll have to give up teaching, you know,” Annette had recently warned her. “You’ve spent a year there, which is very generous of you, but it’s got nothing to do with your future.”
And her friend Harriet, who was the younger sister of one of Annette’s old friends, had echoed Annette’s warnings: “Don’t expect your husband to allow you to be so charitable with your time. He’ll expect you to stay at home and raise your own children.”
There was Alana’s dilemma. That was why she favored Adam and wished he’d be more clear about his intentions. Not because she loved him, but because she appreciated that he admired her dedication to the children. He had said so a number of times. He wouldn’t forbid her to continue teaching if he was her husband.
Her feet moved more briskly now as she made her way to Poppie’s office. Henry had helped her to make her decision. She was nervous, yes, but only about what Poppie had on his mind, not about her own decision. She just hoped he wasn’t going to tell her that her trips to the orphanage must come to an end now that her come-out was almost upon them and the Season was about to begin. That was the only thing she could imagine he’d been brooding over.
His office was one of her favorite rooms in the large, three-story town house. It was cozy, especially in winter when the fireplace was lit. It was bright, too, because it was a corner room with two walls of windows and light cream-colored wallpaper that contrasted with the darker furnishings. She’d spent many a night there reading with Poppie, sometimes aloud. Or just talking. He always wanted to hear about her studies.
br /> Poppie said nothing when she quietly entered the room. He wasn’t sitting at his desk, but in an armchair close to the fireplace. He remained silent when she sat in the chair across from him. When she looked at him, she suddenly realized, incredulously, that he was more nervous than she was!
She’d never seen him like this, ever. When had this bulwark in her life ever been apprehensive about anything?
His hands were tightly gripped in his lap. She didn’t think he was aware of it. Nor would he meet her gaze; his dark blue eyes were riveted on the carpet. Such tension was in his posture and in his face! She could see that he was gritting his teeth. He was probably trying to appear deep in thought, but she wasn’t fooled.
Loving him as she did, she put aside her own fears and tried to ease his by beginning with the least of her concerns. “There is a young man I like who might soon come to ask your permission to court me. This would negate my need to have this come-out that Annette has been preparing me for. I’ve been at my wit’s end trying to resolve this in my mind, but—”
She stopped abruptly. His eyes were on her now, and narrowed, but not for the reason she thought. “Who has dared to approach you without my permission, before you’ve even come of age?”
“It’s perfectly innocent,” she quickly assured him. “We’ve just run into each other so often outside the orphanage that we’ve become friends—curbside friends, you might say. But he mentioned recently that he’s finally reached an age to start thinking about marriage, and I had a feeling, well, it was more a hope, that he was thinking of me when he said it.”
Poppie sighed. “Then your feelings are involved?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “I like him, certainly, but the reason I would favor him is he’s an English lord, yet he doesn’t mind that I want to continue teaching. He even admires my dedication in doing so. And I do want to continue teaching, Poppie.”