Chapter Seven

Ophelia knew that she was pale and drawn looking.

She’d known since she’d looked in the looking glass this morning after a fitful night of barely any sleep.

Despite a valiant effort, she hadn’t been able to forget the wicked marquess or the way he’d made her feel.

It was bad enough that she’d remembered – in vivid detail – every second that his lips had touched hers, every press of his body against her own. But to then have her short dreams be filled with wicked, wanton images of the man – well, that was not to be borne.

Ophelia was ashamed. Ashamed and embarrassed that at the first sign of temptation in her life, she had not practised what she so often preached.

If you ever do decide to live a little, you’ll find me right here.

His audacious words, both inappropriate and unwelcome, sounded in her head once more.

It hadn’t just been an invitation, though his tone had been suggestive enough to make her heart skitter, even now, at the mere memory.

No, it had been almost a challenge. He had to have known, even when he said those words, that she would never even dream of taking him up on his depraved offer.

But those feelings…

She cut the thought off before it could form properly.

She would not be tempted to sin.

She was not her mother.

Shaking off thoughts of the marquess and his mouth, and tongue, and every other salacious part of him, she marched toward her classroom.

She was meeting with Eliza Trent for the final time. She’d already explained to Miss Fisher that the girl was on the cusp of being beyond their help. They had agreed that Ophelia would speak once more with the girl, then if it seemed as though she were still resistant to their help, her parents would be sent for, and she’d be expelled from the school [JS9] .

They had never before had to take such drastic action with one of their charges, but Eliza’s actions simply could not be borne.

Steeling herself for battle, Ophelia grabbed hold of the doorknob.

Just as she was about to twist it and enter the small room, voices inside caught her attention.

“Eliza, Miss Delacourt will be here any moment. I’m not supposed to be here with you.”

“Oh, hush, Louisa.”

The contempt in Eliza’s voice was evident, even through the heavy oak door.

“Miss Delacourt won’t do anything to you,” Eliza scoffed. “She’ll ramble on with one of her sermons again then stick her nose up and stomp out of the room as she always does.”

“I think she just wants what’s best for us,” Louisa answered meekly.

Eliza’s laugh was harsh and cruel.

“How would that woman know what’s best for anyone? She never ventures outside these walls unless it’s to stop us from having fun. She’s a boring old spinster, Louisa. You can’t tell me you’d ever want to be like her?”

The hurt that flashed through her took Ophelia by surprise.

She had never felt the need to be well liked by her charges, and it was no secret that Eliza Trent wasn’t exactly fond of her.

Yet to hear herself described in so pathetic a way…it did sting a little, though it shouldn’t.

Louisa, at least, was a kind young lady, who wouldn’t disparage her.

Ophelia knew she should march right in there and put a stop to the conversation.

Perhaps, it was her wounded pride and a need to hear something good about herself that had her standing there eavesdropping instead.

“Miss Delacourt is kind and helpful, Eliza.”

Ophelia felt her shoulders drop and realised they’d stiffened during the course of the girls’ chatter.

“But would you want a life like hers?” Eliza pushed.

Ophelia stiffened all over again.

The silence after Eliza’s question was excruciating.

Finally, Louisa spoke, and to her shame, Ophelia pressed her ear to the door so she could here the answer.

“Of course, I wouldn’t,” Louisa sighed. “I want to fall in love and have children and a happy, respectable life. Miss Delacourt is trying to help me achieve that. Help all of us.”

“And what would she know about happiness and love?” Eliza snorted.

It took all of Ophelia’s strength to lift her chin and enter the room as though she hadn’t heard the humiliating conversation.

She could only hope that her cheeks weren’t as visibly hot as they felt.

***

Later that evening, Ophelia trudged toward Miss Fisher’s private sitting room.

It had been a trying afternoon.

Louisa had scurried away, head bent, eyes to the ground, the second Ophelia had entered the room. Eliza had merely watched her defiantly.

She knew the girl wasn’t listening and didn’t care about anything Ophelia had to say.

For some reason, she was hell bent on self-destruction, and Ophelia knew there was little she could do about it.

Her afternoon classes had been long and tedious. She hadn’t been as engaged as she should have been.

Her mind had been filled with memories of the marquess and thoughts of their conversation. And the conversation between Eliza and Louisa.

It wasn’t just that the girls clearly thought her rather pathetic. But she was beginning to believe she agreed with them.

Last night had been her first ever kiss [JS10] . And would probably be her last, too.

Determined to remain unmarried, she’d known that she was committing to a life of virginity.

It had never bothered her before.

Not until Lord Guilford.

Stop, Ophelia, she commanded herself as she reached Miss Fisher’s rooms. You chose this life. There’s nothing wrong with it.

Ophelia lifted her hand to knock, but voices inside stopped her and once again, she found herself blatantly eavesdropping at a closed door.

“I’m afraid that Ophelia was right to feel cautious about accepting the girl. Her parents will have to be sent for.” [JS11]

“Ophelia certainly has a knack for these things.”

Ophelia immediately recognised the voices of Miss Fisher and Mrs. Swithon, another of the school’s tutors.

Mrs. Swithon had been widowed young and left in genteel poverty. The finishing school had become something of a sanctuary for her and her young daughter at the time.

Her daughter was now grown and happily married to a kindly apothecary, and she visited often with her own children.

“She would have made a wonderful mother.”

The words froze Ophelia to the spot, as an unexpected wave of longing washed over her.

What on earth was happening to her today? She’d never longed for motherhood, having decided very young that it wasn’t for her.

“Indeed. A good wife, too. But sadly, she is set on her path and will not be moved from it.”

“What a shame that she keeps her world so very small.” Mrs. Swithon’s voice was not unkind, but her words ripped through Ophelia nonetheless. “She will never experience much of anything, hiding herself away thus.”

“No, she won’t,” Miss Fisher agreed, to Ophelia’s chagrin. She had thought that Miss Fisher agreed with all of her reasons for choosing this life. They’d discussed it many times as Ophelia’s time as a student had drawn to an end. “But she has made her choice, and we must respect it. Even if we don’t always agree with it.”

The ladies’ conversation moved on to other, more mundane things, but Ophelia wasn’t listening.

A strange sort of buzzing began in her head and her emotions, which she usually managed to keep impeccably in check, became riotous.

It wasn’t exactly wonderful for one’s ego to be spoken about in such a fashion twice in one day.

Was that really how everyone saw her? As a coward, hiding from real life? As a boring old spinster, who knew nothing of the world?

Her cheeks heated, and tears prickled her eyes.

She stood there, not wanting to go in and pretend that everything was fine but not knowing what else to do.

The worst part was that there was a grain of truth in everything that had been said about her today. She knew it.

But it bothered her today in a way it never had before.

She would never experience motherhood. She would never fall in love.

She would never have excitement or adventure.

She wouldn’t look back on her life and have a single memory that would bring a smile to her face.

No, that wasn’t true. And it wasn’t even fair to Miss Fisher, the other tutors who had come to be friends, and even the girls she’d grown so fond of over the years.

But excitement, something — anything — life-changing? There was nothing. Nothing at all.

The discovery was shocking and surprisingly painful.

Her work here at the school gave her a sense of accomplishment, but happiness? Was it really so elusive? Was she destined to be fodder for pity and gossip?

How humiliating!

It’s not too late though…

Somewhere in the recesses of her tumultuous thoughts, a voice sounded loud and clear.

There was an opportunity before her. One she would never have considered before.

One that was so scandalous, so ruinous that if she were to act on it, she would be the very thing she’d worked so hard to be the opposite of.

A wanton.

If you ever do decide to live a little, you’ll find me right here.

The marquess’s words taunted her once more.

Live a little. That’s what he’d called it.

Could she do it? Could she veer from her pious path just once? So that when she was old and alone, she would have this one exciting memory, this one wicked adventure to keep close. So that she would know that for one moment in her life, she’d thrown caution to the wind and had an adventure?

“Of course, I can’t.” She whispered the words aloud, hoping to convince herself of the sheer insanity of such thoughts.

But it was too late.

They’d taken hold.

The memory of being held in the marquess’s arms.

The scorn of her students. The pity of her peers.

They all merged to form a perfect storm of boldness.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Ophelia dashed to her rooms to grab her cloak, her meeting with Miss Fisher quite forgotten.

Before she could change her mind, she was down the backstairs and out onto the dark, quiet streets.

She might regret what she was about to do every single day for the rest of her life.

Or she might revel in the idea that she’d allowed herself to act without careful thought, to do something she truly wanted to do but would never have allowed herself.

There was only one way to find out.