Chapter 6 #2
He moved forward to take the chair she’d indicated, the one before the desk.
The office felt close, pokey and cramped, yet she’d made it her own with journals and books on education practices lined up along the top of a small bureau and an incongruously bright silk scarf looped over the hat stand in the corner.
Kit subsided into the chair and smiled into her eyes. “I just wanted to let you know that Councilor Peabody called on me yesterday, and we discussed his views on the school’s new location. I believe I convinced him to rethink his opposition, but I understand he called at the school first.”
Her expression grew stern, and she clasped her hands before her.
“Indeed, and in a quite vexing way. It was our first day there, and everything had been going swimmingly, then Peabody walked in and declared his hateful stance.” She hesitated, then went on, “Of course, the boys heard him—he made it quite clear that he didn’t want dockside brats, as he labeled them, in that neighborhood.
” Censure rang in her tone. “After that, I felt it was necessary for the boys to hear my defense of them.”
Kit wished he’d witnessed it.
She raised her gaze and met his eyes. “I made sure to mention—for the boys’ ears as well as Peabody’s—all the support the school has received from respectable and powerful quarters.
Your name, especially, gave Peabody pause, enough that he wanted to check with you before pushing further.
I hope it was all right to send him your way. ”
“Yes.” Kit nodded decisively. “That was precisely the right thing to do—and if, in the future, the school is visited by others of Peabody’s ilk, I hope you will refer them to me. I stand ready and willing to put them straight regarding the school and its value to the community.”
Her smile was reward and more. “Thank you. That’s…something of a relief. I’ll make sure Jellicoe and Cross know to”—her smile deepened, and the blue of her eyes darkened—“wield your title like a shield.”
His gaze locked with hers, Kit chuckled. “Indeed.” Then he sobered. “Actually…”
Now it came to it, he was reluctant to share his most recent idea with her—just in case she took umbrage—yet it would be so easy to do, and the incident with Peabody was the perfect illustration of what they could hope to avoid.
Looking into her pretty blue eyes, he forced himself to explain, “I’m about to order a sign for our workshop—Cavanaugh Yachts.
And after this business with Peabody, I wondered if you would consider it appropriate for the school to have a sign, too.
Say ‘Cavanaugh’s School’ or something similar.
Some label that declares my interest in the school, thus deflecting further attacks from the likes of Peabody.
” He paused, then added, “Of course, such a sign would also advertise my name and help establish it within the wider community, which, from a business perspective, is something I need to do. As I mentioned earlier, I intend to put down roots here, and making the Cavanaugh name visible is an important part of that.”
He’d decided to couch his suggestion as something that benefited him as much as, if not more than, the school to reduce the chance of her feeling the school, and therefore she, would be even more beholden to him than was already the case.
Apparently, he needn’t have bothered; she stared at him as if much struck, and although he looked closely, he couldn’t detect any hint of disapproval in her face or her eyes.
When she didn’t immediately speak, he added, somewhat diffidently, “If you approve, I thought I could order the sign for the school together with the one for the workshop.”
Sylvia let the full implication of his suggestion sink in. The benefits would be enormous; what was surprising was that she hadn’t thought of it herself. “That,” she breathed, looking into a far more stable future, “would be marvelous.”
She refocused on Kit in time to see his quick, slightly lopsided, and, she now knew, entirely genuine smile flash into being.
Eagerly, she went on, “The boys, the staff, and all associated with the school will be delighted.” To be attending a school publicly acknowledged as supported by Lord Cavanaugh would be a huge boost to the boys’ confidence and that of the staff as well.
Simply having his name attached to the school would ensure ongoing funding from the parish council and the continued support of the Abbey.
And it would give people like the disapproving old lady in Trinity Street reason to rethink their views.
She realized she was beaming and directed her smile at him. “That truly is a wonderful offer. On behalf of the school, I can’t thank you enough.” If he’d been less of a danger to her senses, she would have leapt up, rounded the desk, and given him an appreciative hug.
Just the thought made her feel warm, and she thrust it down and focused on the practical. “Of course, as the school exists under the Dean’s auspices, we’ll need to get his approval, but he’s a sensible man, and I can’t see him disagreeing.”