Jennie Kissed Me Read Free Page B

athletic than feminine, but with, of course, some indication between the neck and knees that I was a woman. I have a noticeable waist is what I mean, with some fullness above it. My travelling bonnet was plain but worn with a dashing tilt over the eye.
    I removed the bonnet for greater comfort and because my hair is my crowning glory. It is a true Titian red and gives a clue to my short temper, which made me such a successful purveyor of knowledge to youngsters. They did not trifle with Miss Robsjohn. Since I am no longer required to be a dragon, however, I am endeavoring to sweeten my astringent disposition. I smiled at the reflection in the mirror.
    Mr. Vivaldi, Bath’s reigning coiffeur, had achieved a splendid do for me. How happy I was to have that eternal knob lobbed off and let my natural curl have its way. I wear my hair short and saucy, because, quite frankly, it removes a few of my seven and twenty years. Dare I try to pass myself off as twenty-four? There is something so terribly irrevocable about being past the quarter-century mark! Yes, I would be twenty-four when I reached London, which would require a clever memory not to mention I had been teaching for six years. Three years, I would say. My eyes would not give me away in any case. They are green; not so lustrous as Lady Victoria’s, but no crow’s-feet have left their calling card at the corners.
    My nose is severely straight, with no entrancing tilt at the end like my guest’s. My jaw is firm, but at least my teeth are in good repair. I would never play the ingénue again, but I would not be a spinster either, nor one notch below a perfect lady. I caught Mrs. Irvine’s eagle eye watching me admiring myself and turned back to the company.
    “You are on your way to Wycherly Park with your father now, are you, Lady Victoria?” You must not think I was in the least intimidated by her title! I dealt with any number of noble girls at the seminary, which meant some rubbing of shoulders with their parents as well. One young lady was under the guardianship of her bachelor brother, Lord Anselm. I do not say he made a point of attending every open day for the sole purpose of seeing me, but he did hint on a few occasions that he enjoyed our meetings.
    “Only until he can find someone else to look after me. Aunt Clara warned Cousin Eugenia that I would be too much for her, so I expect it will be another governess. No, companion,” she said. “I am too old for a governess.”
    Why could a position like this not have come along when I had to work for a living? I used to scan the papers daily for some such sinecure. But it was academic now. “Perhaps I could put you on to someone,” I said, mentally fingering Miss Hopkins for the post. She was my greatest friend amongst the teaching staff at the seminary. A genteel-born, penniless lady like myself. I doubted she would have the fortitude to handle Lady Victoria, however. Especially if a continental teaching master formed any part of the household.
    I inquired about this and was told that Lady Victoria was finished with all instruction. Borsini was her Aunt Clara’s idea. I would mention Lydia Hopkins to Lord Marndale. It would be pleasant to share my new happiness with an old friend, and I would keep in touch with Lady Victoria’s progress through Lydia. I had a feeling that Lady Victoria’s future would provide interesting reading.
    My guest took exactly one bite of the second cream bun, heedless of the cost, which would be put on my bill. “I’m tired. I would like to go to bed now,” she announced.
    “Your father should be here inside of an hour,” I pointed out. “It is not worthwhile getting undressed.”
    “But it’s nearly eleven o’clock. I go to bed at ten.”
    “Lie down on the settee,” I suggested. “I’ll get a bolster for you.”
    “I cannot sleep on that!”
    Given the choice of sitting on a hard chair or resting on the settee, she soon chose the latter. She occupied the entire