Page 25 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
“Oh,” she said dumbly, her tongue suddenly feeling heavy and too large for her mouth.
“I know it was unfair to approach you here”—he took a step in her direction—“although I almost expected you to find an excuse to end your lesson early.” He smirked. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused you to flee.”
She looked away. “Then why did you come? Nothing will occur between us again.”
“I know.”
Her ire was a drum in her ear, and it took her a moment to understand him. “You do?”
Finlay nodded. “I would never want to jeopardize your position here. I’ve often hoped over the last year you had found a way to care for yourself.”
He’d thought of her? The revelation left her dangerously lightheaded. She clenched her hands into tight fists as she struggled to refocus. “I was very lucky.”
“It would seem.” His expression turned considering. “Did you have teaching experience before you came here?”
She dropped her gaze to the tabletop. “I did not. Thankfully, my unconventional background recommended me.”
“Unconventional? That’s quite a fascinating word.” His blond brow arched. “Why do you call it such?”
“I do not have a proper education.” Charlotte felt her cheeks heat. “But since I’ve been on my own from a young age and had the opportunity to travel and see various parts of the world, Mrs. Stevens felt I brought other strengths to the position.”
“I’d have to agree with her.”
She willed herself not to respond to the unspoken praise in his tone. Instead, she said, “The girls will speak of your visit, and people will wonder why you chosemylessons to sit in on.”
His mouth stretched into a firm line. “You’re right. If anyone asks you, please say I attended for my sister. She wanted a report on how her former students were faring.”
“Oh.” Again, the word—or was it merely a sound?—was all she could utter. His simple but believable explanation took the righteous wind from her sails. Still, she asked, “Will this be the last time I have to employ such an excuse?”
Lord Firthwell took another step in her direction, his keen green gaze holding hers. “Do you want it to be?”
Her mouth went dry, and she longed to form the word “no”. Although she refused to acknowledge it, seeing his smile and hearing his laugh was like stepping into vibrant sunbeams after a dreary, wet day.
But ever practical, she choked out, “It has to be.”
“Why?”
Charlotte presented her back to him, staring out the window. “You’re a viscount, and I’m a schoolteacher.” She peered at him over her shoulder. “I’m content here. Stable. I implore you not to threaten all I’ve gained.”
“I’d never dream of doing such a thing.” His voice held indignant reproof. “I know I shouldn’t have come. I just…enjoy spending time with you.”
She tried to ignore the warmth that spread through her. “But why? I don’t understand why you’d want to spend part of your day taking tea with five young orphans and their solemn, old teacher.”
“I’d hardly call you old. I’m quite certain I’m older than you. But I’ll agree with the solemn part.” He considered her, his gaze traveling over her face with an intensity that threatened to singe her. “I think that’s why I sought out your company. Getting you to smile, to laugh, is an enjoyable task.”
“So I’m a novelty?” She spun and snatched her knapsack, leaving the tea tray and dirty dishes to be retrieved later. After the viscount had left. After he no longer posed a threat to her well-being.
When he was faraway.
At the door, she stopped, pivoting to pin him with an irate glare. “While you’re busy trying to unlock the mystery that isme, an amusing diversion for a frivolous gentleman such as yourself, be so kind as to remember this is my life. I’ve toiled too hard to have you snatch away everything I’ve accomplished here. Please leave me alone.”
Charlotte stepped into the hall, snapping the door shut behind her. With as much pride as she could marshal, she managed to walk—and not run—to the kitchens.
…
He was a dunderhead.
A bacon-brained, ham-handed idiot.
