Candlelight Wish Read Free Page A

“What is it you wished to say, sir?”
    “It is Miss Caldicot, is it not?” The cordiality had left his tone and the eyes that regarded her held a cold glint of steel. “I wish to be quite certain about that.”
    She inclined her head. Every instinct warned her to be wary. He exuded an aura of power, of implacability, that challenged her own authority here where he was the visitor and she at home and supposedly in charge. “And you are Sir Miles Saunderton?”
    He too inclined his head. “Now that the niceties have been observed, you will oblige me by explaining where my sister went this night. And we shall save considerable time if you do not try to fob me off with that nonsense about Miss Middleton.”
    “She wished to attend the concert at Sydney Gardens but the Misses Crippenham decided they would rather the girls not go.”
    “So my sister slipped out when she was thought to have gone to bed?”
    Phoebe made no response.
    “I see. You don’t know. Did you find her alone?”
    She raised a haughty eyebrow. “As you saw, none of our other young ladies went with her.”
    The creases in his brow deepened. “That is not what I asked and well you know it. I cannot imagine even a young lady as flighty as my sister slipping out to a concert on a chilly night merely for the novelty of it. She went to meet someone, did she not?”
    Phoebe straightened to her full five feet and a hair. “I have no idea why she went. You shall have to ask her that yourself.”
    “I intend to. But as her guardian I believe I have the right to be informed of such matters by her instructresses.”
    He had, of course but she didn’t feel like admitting it.
    “An officer, I presume. Foot or Hussar?” he asked.
    She blinked. “How—” she began then broke off at the triumph in his expression, vexed with herself for giving that much away.
    “I might have known. Where did she meet him? Or do you not know that either?”
    Phoebe stiffened. “I am sorry if we have not guarded your sister as well as you might like but—”
    “As well as I have the right to expect,” he snapped back.
    Her chin rose. “We are not accustomed to young ladies who must be kept under constant surveillance.”
    His eyes flashed with sudden anger. He opened his mouth, closed it again then after a moment said, “I see there is no point in speaking with you any further.”
    “Indeed there is not,” she agreed with extreme cordiality.
    “Then I will wish you good night.” He gave her a curt dismissive nod and strode out.
    She remained where she stood, fuming at the high-handed tone he had taken with her, at the sheer arrogance of the man. Obviously he was too accustomed to having his own way, of having his every whim catered to. She would miss Lucilla Saunderton of course but the girl’s absence from the Academy would be a small price to pay not to have that supercilious brother inflicted upon her again.
    Then the probable consequences of this acrimonious interview dawned on her. He would lodge his complaint with the Misses Crippenham in the morning. Would they blame her for Lucilla’s reprehensible behavior? Reasonably they could not. But little of reason characterized those two ladies when the reputation of their Academy lay at stake. She could only hope she would not become their burnt offering on the altar of respectability. If she were to lose her job— But that did not bear thinking about. She would not lose it. She could not.
    Holding that thought in her mind, she extinguished the candles then made her way up the several flights of stairs to the tiny apartment in the attics that was her room. Originally supplied with a narrow bedstead, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers with a small mirror, Phoebe had added to it a padded chair, a small writing desk and a bookcase crammed with her favorite volumes of poetry and literature. A colorful counterpane covered the bed, a rather fetching brass candelabrum she had purchased quite cheaply from a pawnbroker