She patted her sister softly and when Victoria smiled through her tears, she returned the smile.
Two weeks had passed in a blur of lessons and laughter, of watching the children’s confidence grow with each passing day. Joan stood at the front of the hall, her heart swelling with pride as she handed back the first test results to her twelve students, twelve! The number had grown steadily as word spread through the village of the Lady from Fairfax Manor who actually kept her promises.
“Percival Andersen,” Joan announced, unable to suppress her smile. “Top marks in both mathematics and reading. Excellent work.”
Percival’s face lit up like a lantern as he accepted his slate. The other children crowded around him, congratulating and good-naturedly teasing in equal measure. Joan presented him with a small leather-bound notebook, a reward purchased with her own meager funds, and the boy clutched it to his chest as though it were made of gold.
Victoria moved through the students, distributing their own results with encouraging words for each child. Even those who had struggled showed marked improvement, and Joan felt a satisfaction at their progress.
As the children began gathering their things, chattering excitedly about their scores, Imogen suddenly tugged on Joan’s sleeve.
“Miss Sinclair, did you know there’s to be a Winter Solstice ball in just a few days?”
“A ball?” Joan repeated.
“Yes!” Edmund chimed in. “It’s tradition. Everyone in the village attends. There’s dancing and music and food?—”
“And you must come, Miss Sinclair!” Imogen insisted. “You and Miss Victoria both! We want to see you in pretty dresses!”
Victoria’s face brightened immediately. “A ball! Oh, Joan, we should go!”
“I don’t think—” Joan began.
“Please, Miss Sinclair!” Percival added his voice to the chorus. “Everyone will be there. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Joan shook her head with a gentle smile. “I’m afraid my old bones can’t bear so much excitement. But Victoria will certainly attend, won’t you, dearest?”
“Your old bones?” Victoria laughed. “Joan, you’re four-and-twenty, not four-and-eighty!”
“Still, I think I’ll remain at home with a book. Victoria will represent our family beautifully.”
The children’s faces fell with disappointment, but they rallied quickly at the thought of Victoria attending. “You’ll wear your prettiest dress, won’t you, Miss Victoria?”
“The children are right. You should come.”
The voice came from behind Joan, deep and cultured and instantly recognizable. The cheerful noise in the hall died immediately, replaced by absolute silence.
Joan turned slowly to find the Duke standing in the doorway, his valet positioned respectfully behind him.
He wore no blindfold.
Joan’s breath caught as she took in his full appearance. The scars were more extensive than she’d realized, pale pink lines that traced from his temples down past his eyes, puckering the skin slightly at the outer corners. They gave his already severe features an even more intimidating quality, making him look dangerous and battle-hardened.
But his eyes were fixed somewhere in her general direction with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.
Everyone in the hall dropped into curtsies and bows. Joan followed suit automatically, her students doing the same with varying degrees of grace.
“Your Grace,” Joan managed.
The Duke cleared his throat and turned his attention toward the children. “How progress your lessons?”
His tone was perfectly neutral, merely inquiring. But there was something in the deep timbre of his voice that made even Joan want to step backward. The children definitely felt it. They immediately scurried behind Victoria’s skirts, peeking out at the intimidating nobleman with wide, frightened eyes.
No one spoke.
Joan cleared her throat awkwardly. “The children are learning very well, Your Grace. They’ve just completed their first examinations with excellent results.”
The Duke inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.
