Chapter Six
The great hall of Miss Eloise’s Finishing School for Exceptional Young Women smelled faintly of chalk dust and pine oil. Penelope wrinkled her nose as another scent invaded her nostrils.
Cabbage.
How could she ever forget that putrid smell?
Whether it was cooked with other ingredients or served raw, she detested the stuff.
Any and all rabbits could have all of it from the garden if she had her way.
It would be the first change she’d institute within the finishing school.
She would decree that cabbage in all forms would be prohibited from the premises.
She swept in as though it were a ballroom, chin high and bosom proudly displayed above her sensible but still fashionable gown with a delectable matching bonnet.
A dozen girls in stiff pinafores stared at her with wide eyes.
They ranged in age from six years to sixteen years.
Miss Eloise’s wasn’t just a finishing school; it was also a boarding school.
Many peers sent their daughters here when the girls didn’t fit conveniently into their lives.
Thankfully, that had not been the case with her father.
He had only sent ‘his girls’ here when they were older to prepare them for their introductions into society.
Thankfully, her father had accepted it as his responsibility. If the decision had been in her mother’s purview, Penelope would have been shipped to Miss Eloise’s and left there.
Yet she had always felt a sense of comfort and joie de vivre when surrounded by the other girls at school. No doubt it was due to her growing up with a houseful of sisters.
But there was only one thing…or actually, one person she had missed while attending this noble institution.
And that was her Edward.
Her Edward? What is the devil had possessed her to say or think such a thing?
It had to have been the carriage ride to the school.
Edward’s shoulder had brushed against hers with every dip and roll of the carriage over the Scottish roads.
Each time, they had both inhaled deeply as if touching one another had pained them.
It didn’t hurt her, but it certainly made a swarm of butterflies erupt in her midsection. Frankly, it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. If anything, it made her insides feel warm and on edge.
One of the girls whispered to another, but the sound echoed in the great hall where they’d been escorted. “She looks like a queen.”
At such a compliment, Penelope beamed. “Yes, excellent observation. And what is a queen if not a teacher of her people?”
The girls’ eyes widened at such an observation.
Sometimes, she even surprised herself with such astute thoughts.
But then Edward had to burst her bubble of joy when he groaned from the back of the room.
Penelope clasped her hands dramatically. “Now then, who can tell me the difference between a simile and a metaphor?”
Blank stares met her as she glanced at the girls around the room.
“Anyone?” she prompted.
One brave girl whose pinafore was untied and tilted to the right as if it had imbibed a bit too much in Miss Eloise’s sherry raised her hand. “Is it like the difference between using ostrich feathers or swan feathers in a hat?”
“Yes,” Penelope cried. “Exactly like fashion. A simile is—ah—when you use ‘like’ or ‘as.’ A metaphor is when you do not.” She nodded in conviction, then paused. “And fashion, of course, uses both.”
She had little doubt that the disheveled but charming girl who responded by relating those things to hat couture would become one of her favorites.
However, it would be best not to show favoritism.
Her darling father had taught her it was imperative to love her sisters equally, but in all sorts of different ways.
The girls tittered in amusement, then confusion at her pronouncement.
Edward stepped forward, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at the shoddy carpet of the great room.
“What Lady Penelope means is that a simile compares two things using ‘like or ‘as.’ For example…” He looked at her, his gaze warm.
“Her smile is like sunshine. It brightens everything in its path.”
The girls sighed in unison. Penelope could have sworn that several of them had fallen in love with Edward in that moment.
She knew exactly how they felt.
She slid her gaze to his, and her breath caught. It was as if a celestial force was keeping her locked in his orbit. She couldn’t look away. “That was…oh.” Her cheeks heated. “Yes. Exactly that.”
“And a metaphor,” Edward continued, turning elegantly to face the girls, “is when you say one thing is another. For example,”—he swallowed, then said firmly, “Lady Penelope is sunshine.”
The girls giggled, covering their mouths.
Penelope’s entire body went hot. She waved her hand in front of her face. “Well. Yes. A very thorough explanation, Mr. Thornton.”
“Mr. Thornton looks like a duke,” one girl whispered to another. “And he’s in love with our new teacher.”
Penelope clapped her hands for attention, desperate to move on. “Now, ladies, who would be brave enough to”—every hand shot into the air—“lead us in a rousing exercise of parsing sentences?”
Those same eager hands slowly withered like flowers without sunshine.
Good heavens, now she was sounding like Edward tutoring his students. The problem was that she had no idea how to parse sentences. There was only one explanation. She was completely swept off her feet by his similes.
Or was it metaphors?
A girl in the back of the room with hair the color of fire piped up, “Will Mr. Thornton be doing more examples?”
Every girl’s attention turned to Edward as they burst into giggles. “Yes, please,” they all shouted.
Penelope softly groaned. “This,” she muttered to herself, “is worse than learning to operate a water pump.”
Edward’s quiet chuckle enveloped her. “You’re doing fine, sunshine.”
“Girls, quiet down.” The sharp rebuke was accompanied by the sharp clap of hands three times. “That’s no way to welcome our new instructor, Lady Penelope.”
Miss Eloise swept into the great hall like a great clipper ship cutting through a rogue wave. The girls immediately did as instructed, but their sharp gazes never left Edward.
“Welcome, Lady Penelope,” she said as she came to stand by her side. “It’s so lovely to have one of our most distinguished alumni teaching at our noble institution.”
Penelope preened under her praise. It was the first compliment she could ever recall receiving from the schoolmistress.
“Lady Penelope, your late father’s note offering to have you teach was a godsend. We’re short-staffed this year after Mrs. Mosley announced she was increasing.”
“Pen,” Edward hissed. “What note?”
“Excuse us for a moment.” Penelope pulled Edward to the end of the great hall where they couldn’t be overheard.
As an extra precaution, she turned her back so Miss Eloise couldn’t use her exceptional hearing to eavesdrop on their conversation.
She stole a peek at the schoolmistress and smiled, then turned to Edward.
“I might have crafted a letter and signed his name when I found out I must live humbly.” She ignored his sharp intake of breath.
“I also might have said it was from his solicitor.” Before Edward could admonish her, she continued, “I might also have said we married. Papa would not have minded. I can assure you that.”
“Pen, pretending at the inn is one thing. But this is—” Edward shook his head, clearly trying to come to terms with her actions.
“This is creative.” Pen bit her lip. “When Mr. Honeycutt presumed we were newlyweds, it just reinforced how right my decision was. I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.
Please don’t think ill of me, but I had to do something.
I either had to do this or marry. The only one with any interest was George Draven. ”
He sneered slightly at the mention of Draven. “Penelope, I would have never ever let that happen. The man isn’t good enough for you.”
His steadfast support of her melted her heart. He was her true champion even if he didn’t always agree with her.
“Thank you for saying that. With you by my side, I can accomplish anything. She stood on her tiptoes, ready to kiss his cheek, but reconsidered such an action with all the girls staring at them.
His lips curved into a smile. “Even though I would have appreciated your token of affection, it was good thinking not to have shocked the students. When we have privacy, I hope you don’t hesitate again.
” Before she could respond to his outrageous comment, he continued, “Let us not keep Miss Eloise or her students waiting.”
With a sudden new confidence, Penelope nodded and took Edward’s arm before they returned to the front of the great hall.
Miss Eloise smiled slightly, then turned her attention to Edward, and her eyes widened. “Mr. Thornton? I recognize that name. Are you by chance related to the late Gawain Thornton?”
“Yes,” Edward said with a slight bow of his head. “He was my father.”
Miss Eloise blushed and turned to Penelope. “I didn’t realize you had married such a distinguished guest?”
Penelope laughed nervously.
Miss Eloise narrowed her eyes. “You have to be married to stay in the staff cottage.” She lowered her voice. “You are married, correct?”
Whenever Miss Eloise lowered her voice until it sounded like a growl, it meant trouble.
And not the good kind.
Edward cleared his throat. “Yes, we are married.” He turned to Penelope and smiled as he took her arm and wrapped it around his. “Newlyweds, you see. I’m here to see Lady Penelope settled.”
Pen’s heart stumbled in her chest at Edward’s proclamation.
“You’re not staying with your wife?” Miss Eloise enquired politely.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Pen interjected quickly before Edward could contradict her. She couldn’t bear it if he left her here. “Yes, he’s staying with me.”
Miss Eloise beamed as if Edward set the moon and stars in the sky. “How delightful. You must share some of your father’s wisdom with me.” She turned to the girls, who were absorbing every word. “Ladies, it’s time for tea. Please proceed in an orderly fashion to the dining hall.”
As the girls turned to leave the hall, the young one with the tilted pinafore waved slightly at Penelope and blushed when she caught Edward’s gaze. Seeing she was the last one to leave, she scampered out of the room.
“Now, if you’ll both come with me, I’ll tell you what my expectations are for your instruction assignments.” Without waiting for them to follow, Miss Eloise turned and, with a speed that defied her age, she gave a grand exit, leaving Penelope alone with Edward.
“You are leaving me here? Alone?” She blinked twice to keep the tears at bay.
This hurt worse than having a horse step on your foot and ruin a new pair of dance slippers.
How could she bear not having anyone with her?
After her father had passed and her sisters had left home, there was only one person she could turn to.
Now he was leaving her, too. “I thought you would stay with me.”
“Pen, we never discussed me staying. I thought I’d visit over the holidays.” His face bloomed a bright red, and he took her hands in his. “I have duties to attend to. I have my father’s old students waiting for me to return.”
“Oh,” she said dully as she stared at the scuffed wooden floor. “You have your own life.”
“Darling,” he teased as he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.
“Let’s talk about this more when we’re alone.
” His voice deepened, sending goosebumps skating over her skin.
“I’m looking forward to hearing about your assignments.
I can only hope that one of them is teaching me my husbandly duties while we’re here.
” As she sputtered to come up with an answer, Edward winked and gently tugged her along.
"Come, my sweet wife. We don’t want to keep Miss Eloise waiting. ”