ignore them, either, when one’s future—and that of an entire school—is at stake.” Dr. Trimp’s eyes gleamed with righteousness.
Marcia could hardly swallow. Her heart thumped so hard, she was afraid everyone could see it. “I’ve got to go see Lady Ennis before she leaves. I’ve got to find out if—”
She couldn’t finish the statement. It was too painful a hypothesis.
Dr. Trimp shrugged. “You won’t have to look far. Tonight she’s to be at the Livingstons’ ball.”
“My goodness,” said Marcia. “You’re well informed.”
“I told you.” Dr. Trimp looked quite proud of himself. “Miss McCloud keeps an eye on her competitors. But she gets no credit for this on dit . I heard it from one of my patients this morning, and she read it in the paper. You haven’t been in London much the past few years, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Lady Ennis makes sure everyone knows what she’s doing. Speaking of which”—he leaned close again—“the newspapers are a vital source of information for Miss McCloud for other reasons, too. She scouts out potential new students there.”
“Really?” Marcia felt guilt gnaw at her. She’d never done such a thing.
“Yes. She also keeps abreast of the political scene so that her board of trustees is always composed of powerful elder statesmen.”
“She’s very clever, isn’t she?” Oak Hall didn’t have any duke’s daughters, nor did it have a board of trustees. So perhaps Lysandra had had a point about Marcia’s deficiencies. “I—I wonder what Miss McCloud knows about me ?”
Dr. Trimp chuckled. “Is there anything particularly interesting to know, other than the fact that your parents are an intriguing match? Influential Irish peers don’t often marry impoverished English widows.”
“True.” Marcia smiled. “As for me, I’m distinctly boring.” She felt a frisson of worry. Of course, she had her secret. But no one knew but her and Finn, and he’d gone straight to America the day after they’d—
He wasn’t in America anymore, was he? He was here in London. But it had been years since that eventful night. Finn would have no reason to bring the subject up to anyone.
Dr. Trimp chuckled. “No doubt Ella McCloud knows something about you beyond what I’ve relayed to you tonight.”
Marcia felt indignant at the idea of being spied upon. But she felt most indignant recalling how Lysandra had been lounging at Gunter’s with her friends as if she hadn’t a care in the world. It was quite possible that her firing of Marcia the day before had been only the beginning of a grand plan to disband the school.
If it hadn’t been for Dr. Trimp, Marcia might be sitting in ignorant bliss while Oak Hall was closed without her knowledge.
How did she ever think card parties were boring?
There was only one thing to do.
“I must go.” She stood and looked at her parents in deep conversation on the other side of the room with an elderly baron and his wife. Their engaged expressions and occasional smiles made it clear that they were enjoying themselves.
“Where will you go?” asked Dr. Trimp.
“To the … ladies’ retiring room.” She stared at the Jensen sisters, who were over at the sideboard getting second helpings of trifle and chatting with the very deaf Lord Davis. She looked back at the doctor. “To fix my hem.”
“All right.” Dr. Trimp looked down at her perfectly intact hem.
He’d obviously guessed she was lying. She was about to do much worse than that, actually. She was going to sneak away from the party without telling anyone and go to the Livingstons’ ball alone. She reassured herself that Gregory would be there, so he could serve as a chaperone.
But first she had to find a way to get to the ball unnoticed and then slip into the festivities without attracting attention. After that, she’d have to find Lysandra, get her alone, and confront her on all counts.
None of those were easy tasks, but what choice
Marcia could hardly swallow. Her heart thumped so hard, she was afraid everyone could see it. “I’ve got to go see Lady Ennis before she leaves. I’ve got to find out if—”
She couldn’t finish the statement. It was too painful a hypothesis.
Dr. Trimp shrugged. “You won’t have to look far. Tonight she’s to be at the Livingstons’ ball.”
“My goodness,” said Marcia. “You’re well informed.”
“I told you.” Dr. Trimp looked quite proud of himself. “Miss McCloud keeps an eye on her competitors. But she gets no credit for this on dit . I heard it from one of my patients this morning, and she read it in the paper. You haven’t been in London much the past few years, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Lady Ennis makes sure everyone knows what she’s doing. Speaking of which”—he leaned close again—“the newspapers are a vital source of information for Miss McCloud for other reasons, too. She scouts out potential new students there.”
“Really?” Marcia felt guilt gnaw at her. She’d never done such a thing.
“Yes. She also keeps abreast of the political scene so that her board of trustees is always composed of powerful elder statesmen.”
“She’s very clever, isn’t she?” Oak Hall didn’t have any duke’s daughters, nor did it have a board of trustees. So perhaps Lysandra had had a point about Marcia’s deficiencies. “I—I wonder what Miss McCloud knows about me ?”
Dr. Trimp chuckled. “Is there anything particularly interesting to know, other than the fact that your parents are an intriguing match? Influential Irish peers don’t often marry impoverished English widows.”
“True.” Marcia smiled. “As for me, I’m distinctly boring.” She felt a frisson of worry. Of course, she had her secret. But no one knew but her and Finn, and he’d gone straight to America the day after they’d—
He wasn’t in America anymore, was he? He was here in London. But it had been years since that eventful night. Finn would have no reason to bring the subject up to anyone.
Dr. Trimp chuckled. “No doubt Ella McCloud knows something about you beyond what I’ve relayed to you tonight.”
Marcia felt indignant at the idea of being spied upon. But she felt most indignant recalling how Lysandra had been lounging at Gunter’s with her friends as if she hadn’t a care in the world. It was quite possible that her firing of Marcia the day before had been only the beginning of a grand plan to disband the school.
If it hadn’t been for Dr. Trimp, Marcia might be sitting in ignorant bliss while Oak Hall was closed without her knowledge.
How did she ever think card parties were boring?
There was only one thing to do.
“I must go.” She stood and looked at her parents in deep conversation on the other side of the room with an elderly baron and his wife. Their engaged expressions and occasional smiles made it clear that they were enjoying themselves.
“Where will you go?” asked Dr. Trimp.
“To the … ladies’ retiring room.” She stared at the Jensen sisters, who were over at the sideboard getting second helpings of trifle and chatting with the very deaf Lord Davis. She looked back at the doctor. “To fix my hem.”
“All right.” Dr. Trimp looked down at her perfectly intact hem.
He’d obviously guessed she was lying. She was about to do much worse than that, actually. She was going to sneak away from the party without telling anyone and go to the Livingstons’ ball alone. She reassured herself that Gregory would be there, so he could serve as a chaperone.
But first she had to find a way to get to the ball unnoticed and then slip into the festivities without attracting attention. After that, she’d have to find Lysandra, get her alone, and confront her on all counts.
None of those were easy tasks, but what choice
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