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“I think it best if we pretend it never happened, Aston. Call it a foolish whimsy. But neither of us is a fool.” She stepped away, but before she left, she half-turned. “Perhaps it is best that we part ways. Before we become the very fools we spurn.”

Darling of my heart. Your silence eviscerates me. Why don’t you answer my letters? My heart grows heavier every day, and my soul is troubled. Have your parents punished you for eloping with me? Are they keeping my letters from you? I told you that you should go to live with my family in Cornwall until I could make arrangements for you to join me in Sweden. I know they would’ve welcomed you. I am going to write my brother and ask him to call upon you. I cannot sleep for worrying about you, my love.

~ Rt. Hon. Martin Oxley-Norton, Envoy to Sweden in a letter to his wife, Audrey

Sent but intercepted by the Duke of Monteagle - Audrey’s father

Balderbrook’s Institution for Genteel Ladies

Mrs. Crenshaw’s office

24 August 1818

Aston hadn’t come.

He wasn’t here, and Chasity had been called before the board members and Mrs. Crenshaw. Given the censorious frowns and turned down mouths of the visitors, this was not a cordial meeting.

What had Mrs. Crenshaw told them?

Lies naturally, but what precisely?

Sitting tall in the unforgiving chair, Chasity slid a glance to Lady Balderbrook. The woman returned her regard with icy disdain. There would be no help from that quarter—no private audience to explain her suspicions.

Despair tried to raise its ugly little head, but Chasity quashed it with the same vehemence as she would have a nasty insect. If nothing else, her conscience was clear. She’d done nothing unethical, and God knew that to be the truth.

Mrs. Crenshaw couldn’t say the same. She might get away with her duplicity now, but one day, she’d stand before the Lord and be held accountable. Unfortunately, that brought little comfort at this moment.

The clock chimed the half hour, and Chasity curled her toes into the soles of her shoes. This summons did not bode well. Not at all. The knot in her stomach coiled tighter and tighter until she felt physically ill.

Lady Jane Balderbrook, Mr. Theobald Bramblefink, and Mr. Pharris Potterburger had arrived seven minutes before ten of the clock. It was now half-past eleven. What had transpired during the hour and a half they’d been sequestered in Mrs. Crenshaw’s office?

Where is Aston? her heart and soul cried.

When Josie had come to tell Chasity she was wanted in Mrs. Crenshaw’s office and with instructions for her students to be given the morning off, Chasity had presumed Aston had arrived, and she hadn’t noticed because she’d been in class.

Josie had accompanied Chasity down the corridor and before they reached the headmistress’s office, had pulled her into a salon reserved for guests.

Worried Mrs. Crenshaw would be irritated at her delay, Chasity had frowned. “Is something amiss, Josie?”

“I heard what you said to Mr. Terramier about Mrs. Crenshaw altering the books, Miss Noble.” She thrust out her round chin and squared her sturdy shoulders. “I believe you. You wouldn’t make something like that up.”

The maid had already avowed to having her tongue cut out. Her continued loyalty touched Chasity.

“Thank you, Josie. Your confidence in me is appreciated.” Chasity laid her hand upon the maid’s arm. “If you’re interested, a dear friend of mine has an opening for a maid. I told her about you. They are a well-to-do family but the nicest people. I’m not positive what the nature of your duties would be, but—”

“Yes! Oh, yes, Miss.” Josie grabbed Chasity’s hand between both of hers. “I’m ever so grateful. My days here are numbered. I know they are. I cannot seem to keep my mug shut, and the headmistress doesn’t like me.” Her brilliant smile faded, and worry crinkled her forehead. “Your friend won’t mind my forwardness, will she?”

“No, I think she’ll rather admire it. I’ll give you her contact information and a letter of introduction before the day is over.”

Josie grinned. “I shan’t even give that hobgoblin notice.”

Chasity hadn’t needed to ask who the hobgoblin was.

At this very moment, Mrs. Crenshaw stood a few feet away. The headmistress appeared too smug and self-satisfied by far. A feline smile tipped her mouth up at the corners like a cat who’d just consumed a bowl of fresh cream. Or an innocent baby bird or squirrel.

“Do you know why we have summoned you, Miss Noble?” Mr. Potterburger asked in a haughty yet emotionless tenor.

Slanting her head, Chasity examined him. Condemnation glittered in his judgmental gaze. “I do not.”