Chapter 11
Eleven
Seth pulled his pocket watch out yet again, disappointment stealing through him when he realized that only three minutes had passed since he’d last checked the time.
“A few more minutes, Leonardo,” he told his horse, who he’d named after the oh-so-extraordinary Leonardo da Vinci, and who didn’t particular care to linger about when he’d been promised a late-morning gallop but had been forced to linger under a large maple tree instead.
“I know you’re champing at the bit,” Seth said.
“But Annaliese won’t be available until noon.
I don’t want to arrive at the academy too early since that might allow Norma Jean an opportunity to spot me.
The last thing I want is for her to decide I’m checking up on her again since that’ll just leave her surlier than she already is. ”
Leonardo gave a toss of his head, quite as if he wanted Seth to know that all the lingering was making him surly as well.
“Now, don’t be like that. It’s a beautiful day and just look at how lovely the trees are. You should take this time to appreciate the crimson leaves since all of them will soon be on the ground and we’ll have to wait until next year to see them again, although . . .”
Seth took a moment to consider the maple leaves that were already scattered on the ground, the thought springing to mind that they would look lovely in a bowl on Annaliese’s desk.
Trying to ignore the next thought that sprang to mind—one that centered around the idea that he’d never thought of leaves as lovely before, or thought about putting them in a bowl—he swung from the saddle and began picking up a few leaves, abandoning his picking after he turned one of the leaves over and discovered a spider sac on the back of it.
All thoughts of leaves displayed in a bowl disappeared in a trice since he knew without a doubt that a spider sac would appeal to Annaliese far more than any of the crimson leaves he’d been considering giving her.
The sac would also give them something riveting to talk about when they finally met at the academy for lunch, and a lunch he’d been counting down the minutes to ever since he’d woken up that morning before the sun had risen.
Curiously enough, he hadn’t lost sleep the night before, something he’d been losing for weeks, because he’d been contemplating the symmetry of Annaliese’s face.
Instead, he’d been up half the night because he’d been reviewing the time he’d spent with her at the academy, sifting through every word she’d spoken to him.
He’d then turned his thoughts to everything he’d read in the journal she’d let him take home, and a journal that was filled with observations that were worthy of any professional entomologist or arachnologist out there.
After tucking the spider sac carefully amongst the handful of leaves he’d collected, he walked back to Leonardo, put the leaves in his saddlebag, and checked his watch again.
Relief was swift when he realized it was eleven fifty and then realized that ten minutes would allow him to arrive at the academy precisely at noon.
He swung up into the saddle, urged Leonardo into a gallop, then found his thoughts wandering after Leonardo settled into an even gait, unsurprised when those thoughts wandered directly back to Annaliese.
With all the thinking he’d been doing about her of late, it had still been quite the revelation that, even though he’d been convinced that his fascination with the lady was due to the symmetry of her face, he’d been a little off the mark about that.
Granted, he still found her face fascinating, but it was becoming more and more evident that his fascination was a result of everything about Annaliese.
She truly was one of the most intelligent ladies he’d ever met, and the one journal of hers that he’d read thus far had impressed him so much that he’d sent off a note earlier that morning to a publishing friend, asking him if he’d be interested in meeting Annaliese to discuss publishing her work.
Making such an inquiry on Annaliese’s behalf had been rather presumptuous of him, but she had told him the day before that she had sent out a few query letters to publishing houses during the time she was in mourning for her late father.
However, once the publishers discovered she was a young lady from the upper echelons of society and not a man of any scientific experience, they’d flatly refused to have anything else to do with her.
If nothing else, his inquiry to his publishing friend might at least crack open a door for her and . . .
A chorus of high-pitched shrieks took that moment to reach his ears, snapping him from his thoughts.
He immediately kneed Leonardo into a gallop but was forced to rein to a stop when he reached the wrought iron gate of the Merriweather Academy for Young Ladies, a sense of foreboding settling over him when he encountered an unmanned gate.
The very idea that Norbert Tweed or another member of the Merriweather staff were being delinquent with minding the entrance into the academy suggested that something was gravely amiss.
After fishing out the hairpin he’d neglected to return to Annaliese, and one he now never left home without, he swung from the saddle and headed for the gate.
It took him less than a minute to pick the lock, and once the gate opened, he hefted himself back onto Leonardo and kneed him into motion again, rounding a bend a blink of an eye later and catching sight of a scene that gave new meaning to the word chaotic.
Spread out over the entire front lawn were academy students, all of whom seemed to be in some stage of distress.
Numerous girls were sprawled in the grass with their arms flung over their faces in rather dramatic fashion, while others bent over as they seemed to be trying to catch their breath.
His gaze shot to the expanse of lawn that bordered a grove of trees and found, concerningly enough, at least ten young ladies in the process of tossing up their accounts.
Clearly, something was gravely amiss at the academy today.
“Seth! Over here!”
Urging Leonardo forward after he spotted Seraphina gesturing to him, he was out of the saddle a heartbeat later, Seraphina rushing up to join him right as his feet hit the ground.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“A skunk got loose in the castle, sprayed numerous rooms, and . . .” She waved to the lawn.
“We obviously have a situation with the girls, so if you could start passing out cups of water, that would be helpful.” She frowned as her gaze lingered on a young lady who was in the process of retching up a storm.
“Don’t, however, approach anyone who’s in that particular state because most of our students would be appalled to be offered assistance from a gentleman while they are making noises that resemble those of a wounded animal. ”
“Sound advice to be sure, but don’t you think I would be of better use helping to catch the skunk?”
“Annaliese has numerous members of the staff trying to run that critter down, except for a handful of instructors who were laid low by the stench, which is why we’re woefully short of hands out here because we’ve only hired on fifteen new instructors since the academy opened.
” Seraphina shoved a strand of mousy-brown hair out of her face, the mousiness suggesting she hadn’t tried any of the carrot or beet juice he’d mentioned to her.
“Once we get all the students settled, though, if she hasn’t found the skunk, we’ll join in the search. ”
“A logical plan,” Seth agreed. “I’ll just head for the kitchen, get some water, then get down to passing it out, but not, again, to any girls who are in the process of losing their lunch.”
“Make sure you don’t put that water in a bucket.”
Seth’s brows drew together. “A bucket would be the most efficient vessel to use when dealing with this many people.”
“But it would also lend the impression that young ladies can use buckets to serve water out of, something I recently discouraged them from doing after one of the Zambarello sisters announced in an etiquette class that she serves beverages to her friends out of buckets all the time because her mother doesn’t like to use any of the crystal glassware except for special occasions.
” Seraphina shoved another strand of hair out of her face.
“I then felt compelled to pen Elena Zambarello a note, suggesting she invest in some less expensive glassware for her daughters to use so they could avoid buckets going forward.”
“That was brave of you.”
“Elena doesn’t intimidate me, even if she was once considered one of the most terrifying wives of a known Chicago underworld boss.
” Seraphina glanced around and frowned. “But speaking of the Zambarello sisters, you’ll need to excuse me since one of those sisters—Penina, to be exact—seems to be in the process of shucking out of her skirt, an indication that she might have gotten skunked.
” With that, Seraphina strode into motion, calling over her shoulder that it might be a nice touch if he added some sliced lemon to the water.
Unable to help but wonder if sliced lemon added some type of restorative value to water, Seth headed for the castle, forced to cover his nose when he hit the entranceway and the stench wafting around him left him with the distinct impulse to toss up his accounts.
After breaking into a jog, he dashed away tears that had begun streaming down his face from the smell that no amount of nose covering could mask and finally made it to the kitchen, finding Mrs. O’Sullivan, the Merriweather cook, with a scarf wrapped around her face as she filled a large crystal pitcher with water.
“Ah, Mr. McCormick,” Mrs. O’Sullivan began, “I do hope you’re here to lend a hand because this is shaping up to be a disaster of a day.”
“I am here to lend a hand, and Seraphina has already asked me to pass out water, and to add lemon to that water as well.”