Read Online The Headmistress of Rosemere by Sarah E Ladd - Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah E Ladd
Tags: Historical fiction
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twenty-nine students, five teachers, four servants, and my mother, there is rarely a dull moment.”
He tapped his fingers on his knee before jumping to his feet. “I can see you are busy, Miss Creighton. I’ll not keep you from your duties.”
“But your tea, Mr. Sterling. Surely you will want to warm yourself before going out again into the cold.”
He shook his head. He did want to stay in her company, but he did not wish to be a nuisance. “Perhaps another time. I’ve no wish to detain you, and I have another tenant to visit before darkness falls completely. I’ve only come by to thank you for your kindness and to inform you of Livingstone’s absence.”
Even without the benefit of the tea, William departed from Rosemere with a strange feeling of warmth and a persistent suspicion that there was more to Miss Creighton than what he might have assumed. He reminded himself of the necessity of maintaining focus and keeping his goal steadfastly in front of him, for the last time he allowed his heart and mind to be occupied by a woman, his ruination followed. But even with that sharp reminder, he felt certain that the interesting Miss Creighton would not be far from his thoughts.
6
L ater that evening, with a candlestick in hand, Patience climbed the staircase to the east wing, as she did every night before the clock struck eight. The candle’s glow cast long, bending shadows on the worn stairs.
Visiting the youngest students at Rosemere was a habit she had started four years ago when young Emma Simmons came to live at the school.
Emma was not yet four years old and would cry lonely, heart-wrenching tears nightly. She was the youngest student ever to live at Rosemere, and during those first difficult weeks, Patience had been the only one who could console her. Over time, visits to the bedchamber of the youngest students had become a nightly ritual. Patience would read a story or verse to the girls and tuck them each into bed with a kiss and a prayer. It was normally a relaxing time, when the day would slow and evening would slip into night. It signaled her last task of the day, and afterward Mary would always have a cup of tea waiting for her.
But tonight, as she drew closer to the sleeping chamber shared by the five girls, her heart felt odd. Restless. Her days flew by at such a blinding pace that she rarely had time to pause and reflect. She barely had time to sort her thoughts.
This day, on the surface, had passed in all normalcy. Lessons were taught, meals were planned, letters had been written. She’d completed her tasks with regular efficiency. Even though those tasks could be difficult, they brought her meaning and purpose. But then, toward the end of the day, she had received their most unusual visitor again, and ever since, her mind seemed slow, her thoughts sluggish.
Mr. William Sterling. What an unusual character he was proving to be. For years they’d lived in close proximity, more strangers than neighbors. In truth, until their meeting after his accident, he’d likely been oblivious to her existence. And her awareness of him was limited to the girlhood whispers she had shared with school-mates about his mysterious reputation and handsome presence.
But in recent years he had rarely crossed her mind, save for the fact that he had been absent from her father’s funeral. And now, not once but twice he had been in her home. And both times he had left behind thoughts of something she had assumed was long buried. What would it be like to have a suitor, especially one as handsome and strong as William Sterling? She could not deny that he was handsome. Despite his wounds, his blue eyes were sharp and alert. His jaw was strong and determined.
And why, after all this time, should a visit from him unnerve her so? Any childhood inclination to think him romantic and exciting should be squelched by a more mature assessment of his less-than-proper behavior, or at least the accompanying rumors.
This
He tapped his fingers on his knee before jumping to his feet. “I can see you are busy, Miss Creighton. I’ll not keep you from your duties.”
“But your tea, Mr. Sterling. Surely you will want to warm yourself before going out again into the cold.”
He shook his head. He did want to stay in her company, but he did not wish to be a nuisance. “Perhaps another time. I’ve no wish to detain you, and I have another tenant to visit before darkness falls completely. I’ve only come by to thank you for your kindness and to inform you of Livingstone’s absence.”
Even without the benefit of the tea, William departed from Rosemere with a strange feeling of warmth and a persistent suspicion that there was more to Miss Creighton than what he might have assumed. He reminded himself of the necessity of maintaining focus and keeping his goal steadfastly in front of him, for the last time he allowed his heart and mind to be occupied by a woman, his ruination followed. But even with that sharp reminder, he felt certain that the interesting Miss Creighton would not be far from his thoughts.
6
L ater that evening, with a candlestick in hand, Patience climbed the staircase to the east wing, as she did every night before the clock struck eight. The candle’s glow cast long, bending shadows on the worn stairs.
Visiting the youngest students at Rosemere was a habit she had started four years ago when young Emma Simmons came to live at the school.
Emma was not yet four years old and would cry lonely, heart-wrenching tears nightly. She was the youngest student ever to live at Rosemere, and during those first difficult weeks, Patience had been the only one who could console her. Over time, visits to the bedchamber of the youngest students had become a nightly ritual. Patience would read a story or verse to the girls and tuck them each into bed with a kiss and a prayer. It was normally a relaxing time, when the day would slow and evening would slip into night. It signaled her last task of the day, and afterward Mary would always have a cup of tea waiting for her.
But tonight, as she drew closer to the sleeping chamber shared by the five girls, her heart felt odd. Restless. Her days flew by at such a blinding pace that she rarely had time to pause and reflect. She barely had time to sort her thoughts.
This day, on the surface, had passed in all normalcy. Lessons were taught, meals were planned, letters had been written. She’d completed her tasks with regular efficiency. Even though those tasks could be difficult, they brought her meaning and purpose. But then, toward the end of the day, she had received their most unusual visitor again, and ever since, her mind seemed slow, her thoughts sluggish.
Mr. William Sterling. What an unusual character he was proving to be. For years they’d lived in close proximity, more strangers than neighbors. In truth, until their meeting after his accident, he’d likely been oblivious to her existence. And her awareness of him was limited to the girlhood whispers she had shared with school-mates about his mysterious reputation and handsome presence.
But in recent years he had rarely crossed her mind, save for the fact that he had been absent from her father’s funeral. And now, not once but twice he had been in her home. And both times he had left behind thoughts of something she had assumed was long buried. What would it be like to have a suitor, especially one as handsome and strong as William Sterling? She could not deny that he was handsome. Despite his wounds, his blue eyes were sharp and alert. His jaw was strong and determined.
And why, after all this time, should a visit from him unnerve her so? Any childhood inclination to think him romantic and exciting should be squelched by a more mature assessment of his less-than-proper behavior, or at least the accompanying rumors.
This
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