Page 49 of The Headmistress

“Mr. Alden, good morning. How can I help you?”

His face contorted into a semblance of a smile, which—for a second—she thought reflected sincerity and some strange warmth that was entirely misplaced coming from this particular man, whom she’d only ever known for his coldness and his detachment.

“Ah, yes, you can actually. I’d like you to join me and the trustees at an impromptu conference with the esteemed Headmistress.” He shrugged in that unaffected manner of his and made a motion with his chin, indicating towards where the rest of the trustees were milling towards the Main Hall. Magdalene was far ahead of all of them, striding purposefully and gracefully, head held high. Sam couldn’t help but smile watching the procession.

“Ah, is this the discussion of the after-action report? Will there be mortality and morbidity statistics, as is pertinent to every military operation review?” Sam couldn’t hide the sarcasm. The fact that these inept people, who had done nothing but undermine the school for years, dared to now upbraid the one headmistress who actually endeavored to try to save it, was preposterous.

But Alden did not take offense, in fact, he chuckled, his laughter sounding almost painful, gravelly to the point of sickly. Yet his joy seemed genuine again, reaching his watery grey eyes.

“Well, I was going to request the ‘lessons learned’ follow-up, but what does this Navy man know, huh, Professor? An after-action review is what we shall have then, if you so kindly insist.”

Still smiling, he offered her his arm, and not taking it felt awkward if not downright rude. Sam, who never shied away from being rude when rudeness was called for, decided to pick her battles for now and took his elbow, following him as he steered her through the crowd.

* * *

When they approached the Headmistress’ office, raised voices could be heard from the hallway. George stood sentry at the entrance and threw a concerned glance towards them, shaking her head at Sam’s inquiring look. Into the breach, then. Sam, still clinging to Alden’s arm, entered the crowded room and instantly regretted her gesture, for Magdalene’s impassive face changed at what she must have perceived as Sam’s support of the oldest trustee.

“… how could you have undergone the number of changes that you did without so much as consulting the Board, Ms. Nox? This is inconceivable and irresponsible at best, and illegal at worst!” Joel, who did not seem to take note of the new arrivals, kept raging.

“I do not need to consult with the Board on such matters, Mr. Tullinger.” Magdalene’s cool answer only made him froth at the mouth.

“How in the hell…”

“Joel—” Alden’s quiet rebuke finally penetrated everyone’s conscience and silence reigned.

But Magdalene cut him off.

“Before you expose yourself as ignorant of my contract terms, Mr. Tullinger—a contract that you signed along with everyone else on the Board—let me inform you or remind you, whichever may be the case, that short of me selling off property, closing the school, or setting it all on fire, I, as the Headmistress, have the full power and authority to administer the school’s holdings as I see fit, as long as it is in accordance with the letter of the law.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sam could see that Orla had joined them and was quietly standing by the door, with George hiding behind her broad shoulders. Well, with all the parties in the same room, hopefully they’d come to a resolution of some kind. She still had no idea why Alden wanted her there, so Sam kept her council for the moment.

Before Joel could masticate on the information that Magdalene had imparted, it was one of the older trustees, Rolffe, who had obviously decided that, since he’d been silent for more years than Sam had been alive, it was finally time to say his piece.

“The letter of the contract may have been respected, Ms. Nox. But not the spirit. This school belongs to the trustees—”

“It’s Headmistress or Doctor Nox. I hold two Doctorates, one in English Literature and one in Education from Boston College and Harvard respectively, Mr. Rolffe. I am not entirely certain when it became fashionable for you and others on the Board to forget that and refuse to give me the respect that is due to me.”

Sam could see Joel already frothing at the mouth, gearing up for whatever insults and accusations he usually excelled at, the little rat, and the other trustees weren’t far behind. Only Timothy maintained his silence, along with Alden, who still held Sam’s hand on his forearm. Sam almost wanted to applaud the derision that filled Magdalene’s rebuke. She had never known her to be conceited or to insist anyone call her ‘Doctor’. In fact, some of the faculty called her by her first name when in private. But Rolffe and Joel needed to be put in their place for disrespecting her, and Magdalene had done so handily.

Surely sensing the anger in the room, Willoughby uncharacteristically did not depart as he normally did to avoid any ruckus, and instead chose to stand on his pillow and hiss at Joel. Before the cat—or George for that matter—could launch and rip Tullinger’s face off, Sam’s protectiveness kicked in. Someone had to step up and be honest. Sam remembered Magdalene’s words of being hunted and felt compelled to stop the wolves from circling and charging.

“And when will you acknowledge that you placed Headmistress Nox in an impossible situation, ready to throw her under the bus for any and all decisions that she would make, without so much as blinking an eye?”

“Excuse me, young lady?” Rolffe’s bushy eyebrows climbed all the way up his massive forehead.

At the utterance of such a humiliating moniker, Sam’s famed temper was severely tested.

“No, I will not excuse you, Mr. Rolffe. It’s Professor or Doctor Threadneedle. I have also earned a Ph.D. in Education and I wish I could say that my title is beside the point, but it isn’t. The lack of respect, the utter and astonishing lack of regard that has been accorded to the women on faculty at Dragons by the Board of Trustees for years is beyond the pale.”

Sam looked around to find every single pair of eyes in the room focused on her. Some were wide with shock, others looked pleased, and Magdalene’s were twinkling with something akin to mischief.

“Calling us by anything other than our titles is one thing, but to place every speck of blame for your incompetence and irresponsibility—which has driven the school into the ground and wrecked the endowment—on our shoulders is unconscionable.”

Since keeping a leash on her anger and disappointment was no longer an option, Sam reached for eloquence instead. If she was going to go up in flames, the least she could do was do it in style and make sure everyone understood her reasons for it.

“Mr. Tullinger, in his speech two months ago, implied that the decisions made by Headmistress Fenway were responsible for bankrupting the endowment, but who manages it? Who is responsible for the day-to-day investments, for the actual administration of those funds? The school requests the money according to the budget approved by the Board. Why was the school not informed that the investments made these past years have been ruinous to the endowment? Why have the trustees continued to approve further budgets they knew full-well would drive the school deeper into red? And then, when the hammer fell, why was Headmistress Fenway blamed for it all? You gave seemingly full authority to Headmistress Nox, and then proceeded to scold her like a child—in front of her own employees no less—for doing exactly what you all entrusted her to do!”

If Magdalene’s displeasure at seeing Sam walk in on Alden’s arm had stemmed from doubting her loyalties, Sam was pretty sure any and all such doubts were laid to rest after her outburst.

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