The Primrose Path by Barbara Metzger

Author:Barbara Metzger [Metzger, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780449225097
Publisher: Fawcett
Published: 1997-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Sometimes Angelina felt that she could teach Ajax to fly sooner than she could teach the estate children their letters. This morning she had the youngest students, since the older boys and girls were helping their parents in the fields instead of helping Miss Armstead keep their younger siblings quiet and attentive. The children were too excited to learn anything today, having seen Juliette and Homer, one of the few unneutered male dogs, playing leapfrog. Since the creation of puppies was not on Angelina’s agenda or in her curriculum, she was not well pleased. A bucket of water had dampened Homer’s ardor, and a severe lecture to Mademoiselle Lavalier’s maid—half of which the Frenchwoman could not have understood—saw Juliette firmly confined to the master suite.

With all the noise, it was a wonder Mercedes still slept, but she’d stayed up half the night, it seemed, drilling Angelina in pianoforte fingerings while she stretched and turned. When Angelina finally pleaded exhaustion, Mercedes declared she was now ready to begin her writing—after she slathered crushed strawberries on Angelina’s cheeks.

Mercedes slept, and Angelina had the headache. She’d never be competent enough on the pianoforte to accompany a dancer of Mercedes’s stature, and she’d never sleep if she had to worry about staining the sheets all night. Or about his lordship and his former paramour sharing theirs.

When the viscount and Mr. Browne had come by after dinner the previous evening, Angelina had been curious to see that Mr. Browne was still mostly interested in the dogs. How could he look at Mercedes Lavalier in her crimson gown of sheerest muslin with every nuance of her perfect figure perfectly delineated, and not fall bouleverse at her feet? Her painted-toenail feet, besides. The viscount couldn’t. While the architect and Angelina discussed the day’s progress at the work site over tea, Lord Knowle and Mercedes sat apart, with him hanging on her every word. While Averill Browne played with the dogs, Lord Knowle played with Mademoiselle Lavalier’s fan. Angelina was tempted to fetch another bucket of water. Government business never looked so amorous before.

No wonder she had the megrims today.

About mid-morning, and long past her tolerance with the rambunctious children, Angelina was surprised to see a woman enter the makeshift schoolroom.

The stranger bobbed a curtsy. “I was waiting in the hallway, but I heard the children so I followed the noise here. My name is Elizabeth Gibb. May I?” She gestured toward an empty bench and Angelina nodded, studying her intently.

Could it be? Elizabeth was blond and blue-eyed, with a touch of green in her eyes that matched Angelina’s own. She looked to be about Angelina’s age, although it was hard to tell, she was so careworn and thin. Her clothes were poorly made of inferior goods, but Miss Gibb carried herself well and spoke like a lady. Could this one finally be Philomena?

Angelina tried not to get her hopes up; she’d been disappointed too often. So she just watched in amazement as Miss Elizabeth Gibb scooped

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