Icy darkness enveloped Hazel, drawing her into the deep. Her gown billowed around her head, tangling with her arms. Fear and shock paralyzed her for a moment, then her instincts kicked in.
She had to save herself.
It was familiar territory, in a way. She was used to being alone in the world. Quite accustomed to fighting for her survival.
Above her, Kitty’s muted screams and the earl’s muffled shouts carried through the water. She turned her face to their sounds, then kicked her legs, scissors-style, till she broke through the surface, sputtering and gasping for breath.
“Here, Miss Lively.” The earl was leaning over the side of the boat several yards away, reaching out to her. “Grab my hand. I’ll pull you in.”
Hazel looked from his outstretched hand to the beach in the distance and made her decision. She wasn’t going to risk capsizing the boat—not with Kitty in it.
“I’ll swim to shore.” She started churning her arms and legs in that direction.
“No, damn it!”
Hazel ignored the earl’s vehement protests and Kitty’s panicked shrieks. All she had to do was make it to the beach. She could take care of herself, just as she always had.
After several grueling minutes, she made it halfway there. Her arms burned and her legs felt like jelly, but she pressed on. She was vaguely aware of the earl and Kitty in the boat alongside her, but she didn’t dare stop, not even to catch her breath. If she ceased moving, she would sink, and she doubted the earl would be able to find her in the murky depths of the bay.
So she kept swimming, even when her limbs turned numb. She thought of her students and Jane, who needed her. She thought of Mama and heard Papa’s voice in her head. My little hazelnut.
A wave crashed over her, and she choked on a mouthful of seawater but kept struggling, kept fighting—till a pair of strong arms lifted her.
Lord Bladenton scooped her up against the hard wall of his chest. He stood in the surf, holding her above the waves, his heart pounding as hard as hers.
“I can make it on my own,” Hazel rasped.
“You did,” he said soothingly. “But maybe you could let me help you the last few yards to shore.”
She nodded, too exhausted to argue. She let the earl carry her to the beach, where he carefully laid her on the sand.
“Kitty?” Hazel asked breathlessly.
“She’s in the boat, just over there. Perfectly safe.” He raised an arm and pointed in the direction of the rowboat, which was grounded several yards away by the rocks. “She could climb down if she wanted to, but she’s waiting for me to lift her out rather than risk turning an ankle.”
Hazel smiled weakly. “You should help her.”
“I will. Eventually.” He grinned, and her belly did a strange sort of flip. “But first I needed to be certain you’re all right.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she quipped, mentally sliding back into her suit of armor. She may have had a moment of weakness, but Lord Bladenton was the last person on earth she’d allow to see beyond her hard shell.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe because you’ve spent the last hour preventing my niece from floating into the English Channel? Or worse, becoming dinner to a hungry shark?”
“Thank heaven she’s safe.” Hazel swiped her palms together to brush off the sand and winced.
The earl growled. “Let me see your hands.”
Drat. She reluctantly turned up a palm, and he held her wrist gently, staring at the raw blisters with something akin to horror.
“It’s nothing,” she assured him.
“It’s not nothing.” He cupped her hand in his, looked into her eyes, and tenderly blew on the abraded skin.
Her whole body heated, then tingled in response. Her belly fluttered like hummingbird’s wings. She swayed as though she’d drunk too much wine.
She snatched her hand away, and he chuckled softly.
“Thank you for finding Kitty and keeping her alive,” he said earnestly.
“It was a two-person job. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Hazel swept several wet tendrils away from her face. “But you’re welcome.”
A breeze off the water chilled her skin, and she shivered.
The earl jumped up, retrieved his jacket from the sand where he’d tossed it, and placed it over her shoulders. She snuggled into the fine, warm wool. No man had ever given her his jacket before, and since there was precious little chance of such a thing ever happening again, she savored the moment. Briefly imagined what it might be like to have that feeling of being protected and cared for all the time.
The earl smiled at her, and, in that moment, it seemed as though the pinks, yellows, and oranges in the sky had never glowed so brilliant.
Until Kitty called out from her boat across the beach. “Shall I plan on spending the night out here?” she asked dramatically.
Lord Bladenton snorted. To Hazel he said, “I’m considering answering in the affirmative. Does that make me a terrible uncle?”
Before Hazel could reply, Kitty shouted, “If so, I hope someone’s planning to bring me dinner. I’m famished.”
Hazel gingerly pushed herself to her feet, testing her legs. “Your niece is rather demanding,” she told the earl.
He groaned as he stood. “Do you think there’s any hope for her?”
“Of course,” Hazel assured him. “She just needs someone to believe in her.”
The earl retrieved Hazel’s boots from the rock and handed them to her. “I’m glad you think so. I want to enroll her at Bellehaven Academy. Immediately.”
“You know my terms, Lord Bladenton. Take them or leave them.”
“I tried leaving them. It didn’t go well,” he said with a wry chuckle. “So it seems I’ll be visiting you here in Bellehaven, every other week, for the entire summer.”
“Kitty,” Hazel corrected. “You’ll be visiting Kitty every other week.”
The earl flashed a smug, knee-melting grin. “Isn’t that what I said?”
Hazel quirked a brow. “One more thing.”
Lord Bladenton snapped his gaze to hers, his expression wary. “What?”
“Kitty cannot know about our deal. You mustn’t tell her that your visits were a condition of her enrollment, for that would defeat the purpose entirely. She must believe you want to spend time with her.”
“She’s bound to be suspicious.”
Hazel braced one hand against a large rock as she stepped into her boots. “And why is that?”
“Our family situation is complicated.” His voice was hollow, edged with bitterness. “I scarcely know my niece.”
Hazel had a dozen questions she wanted to ask the earl but kept them to herself. Mostly because asking personal questions often prompted the other party to make the same sort of inquiries in response. And she certainly was not prepared to share personal details or thoughts with Lord Bladenton.
Indeed, her thoughts had taken a horrifyingly wanton turn. She found herself preoccupied with the transparent shirt painted on his impeccably sculpted torso and the drenched trousers clinging to his muscular thighs. If the earl had even an inkling of what she was thinking, she’d burrow into the sand like a crab and remain there for twenty years, minimum.
“Your visits will provide an opportunity for you and Kitty to become better acquainted,” she said, pleased that she’d managed a matter-of-fact tone. “She is your ward, and even though she’ll be boarding here in Bellehaven, it’s important that she feel tethered to home. To family.” The sentiment might have sounded trite to some, but it was a truth that Hazel understood deep in her bones.
For the space of several breaths, the earl said nothing. Then, one corner of his mouth curled in the hint of a smile. “Very well. I won’t tell Kitty about our deal—or the unscrupulous manner in which you manipulated me into doing your bidding. It will be our little secret, Miss Lively.” He gave her a wink before walking across the dusky violet, sunset-kissed beach.
Hazel couldn’t help staring as he strode away. His trousers still dripped, and his perfectly molded backside flexed with each effortless, athletic step. Surely, her fascination with Lord Bladenton’s anatomy stemmed from a natural scientific curiosity. Nothing more.
Because she had neither the time nor the inclination to engage in frivolous flirtation. There was no room in her life for romance or passion or courtship. Every ounce of energy she possessed was reserved for her school, and, more important, creating a home for the girls entrusted to her care.
No earl—not even a vexingly attractive one—would make her forget that.
The next morning, Hazel greeted Lord Bladenton and Kitty in her office once again. The earl wore a pristine cravat and a guarded expression; indeed, he bore little resemblance to the swashbuckling man she’d seen on the beach the night before. But the change in Kitty was even more pronounced—and unsettling.
Limp blond curls rested on her thin shoulders, and the feistiness she’d displayed yesterday had been replaced with resignation. The tension between her and the earl was so thick that Hazel would have needed a chisel to crack it.
She cast a bright smile at the pair. “I hope you had a comfortable stay at the inn last night.”
“Quite,” the earl said. He lifted the portmanteaus he held in each hand. Both bags were too stuffed to latch properly, nearly bursting with ribbons, lace, and various trinkets. “Kitty’s looking forward to settling into her new quarters.”
The girl stared listlessly out the window, looking anything but eager.
Lord Bladenton cleared his throat. “I settled my account with your assistant just now.”
Hazel nodded, squashing the guilt niggling at her spine. She intended to do a world of good with the substantial sum she’d demanded from the earl.
“She should have everything she needs,” Lord Bladenton said. He set Kitty’s bags on the floor and turned to face his niece, who refused to meet his gaze. “I’ll be back in a fortnight to check on your progress,” he said brusquely.
Kitty snorted—whether out of disbelief or disgust, it was impossible to say.
“You have a fresh start here,” he said softly. “Try not to waste it.” He lifted an arm as though he might give her an affectionate pat on the shoulder but apparently thought better of it and awkwardly stepped back.
To Hazel, he said, “I trust my niece is in good hands.” For one interminable moment he gazed at her, and she felt an echo of their connection from the night before. But just when she thought he might say something more, he tipped his hat, bowed, and strode out of the office, leaving her alone with Kitty.
The earl was clearly anxious to escape the school—and the town of Bellehaven. Hazel wondered if they’d ever see him again, in spite of the promise he’d made. He’d been desperate enough to agree to anything, but now that he’d gotten what he wanted, there was little incentive for him to visit Kitty. Hazel wouldn’t be surprised if he trotted off to London and forgot all about the niece who, apparently, was nothing but a thorn in his side.
The girl’s chin trembled and puckered like a strawberry. The sight of her standing there, valiantly fighting to rein in her emotions, made Hazel’s throat hurt. But no good would come from tears and platitudes.
Hazel was preparing her students for life—and that meant staying strong in the face of hardship. Remaining composed, even when one was reeling from heartbreak. She knew that better than anyone.
“Right.” She picked up the bags and handed one to Kitty. “Let’s take your things next door, so I can introduce you to the other boarding students. They’re delightful and will no doubt make you feel right at home.”
Kitty blinked slowly, her expression aghast. “Please tell me I won’t be sharing a bedchamber.”
“You won’t,” Hazel assured her briskly. “You’ll be sharing a dormitory, which isn’t nearly as fancy. Come along, then.”
She swept past Kitty, trusting that the girl would follow. “Our classroom is just down the corridor, to the left. The dining room is through here.” Hazel waved a hand at the doorway framing a long, utilitarian table flanked by solid benches before making her way up the central staircase. “A handful of women currently let rooms on the second floor. They’re not associated with the school, and we must do our best not to disturb them.”
“I wouldn’t dream of causing a ruckus in the corridor,” Kitty said dryly. “I’ll save my jigs and bawdy tavern songs for the parlor.”
Hazel smiled serenely as she paused on the landing, waiting for Kitty to drag her portmanteau up the steps. If the girl’s cheekiness helped subdue her sadness, Hazel supposed she could tolerate a bit of sass. For now.
“Which room is mine?” Kitty asked, gasping.
“The dormitory is one flight up,” Hazel replied.
“Surely you jest,” Kitty said, incredulous. “You’re relegating me to the attic?”
Hazel continued marching up the stairs until she stood outside the closed dormitory door. “It is, indeed, the attic.” She pushed the door open and ushered Kitty inside the bright, airy room. “But it has one of the best views in all of Bellehaven.”
“If you say so.” Kitty let her bag drop on the hardwood planks with a thud and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Kitty, allow me to introduce two of your fellow students. This is Lucy.” Hazel gestured toward the girl who hung halfway off her bed, the ends of her thick, auburn braids brushing the floor. Predictably, a book on mythology covered half of her freckled face.
Upon seeing Kitty, Lucy set down her book, extended her palms to the ground, and deftly flipped herself to standing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, beaming.
Kitty heaved a tortured sigh. “Likewise.”
“And this,” Hazel said, “is Clara.” The lanky, dark-haired girl sat on her bed, surrounded by colorful scraps of muslin that she’d carefully cut and laid out. “She’s working on a new pelisse,” Hazel added.
Kitty scoffed. “Rather tiny, isn’t it?”
“It’s for Lydia,” Clara explained, proudly holding up her doll, who, thanks to Clara’s talent with a needle, possessed a wardrobe fit for a princess.
“Lord help me,” Kitty muttered as she flopped faceup on one of the two unclaimed beds. “I thought I’d been enrolled in a proper finishing school, but it’s nothing more than a glorified nursery. A nursery full of misfits.”
“Lucy and Clara are not much younger than you are,” Hazel said to Kitty. “I’ve taught them for almost two years now.”
Kitty narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I thought you said this was a new school.”
“It is. Until recently, I taught somewhere else.” But then Miss Haywinkle had been unexpectedly swept off her feet by a kind, elderly gentleman. He’d proposed, and the headmistress had happily accepted. A few days later, she’d called Hazel into her office and told her she was retiring. And Hazel’s world had been upended again.
“Were you kicked out, too?” Kitty asked with mock sympathy.
Ignoring the question, Hazel said, “The girls will help you become familiar with your new surroundings, our class schedule, and your daily chores.”
“Dear God,” Kitty said, pushing herself to sitting. “I’m to have chores? Was my uncle made aware that I’d be pressed into labor?”
“It’s part of the school’s arrangement with Mrs. Paxton, who runs the boardinghouse,” Hazel replied evenly, determined that nothing in her manner would reveal her apprehension about having Kitty join the ranks of her beloved students. As headmistress, it was imperative that she remained calm. That she always appeared to be in control.
Even if she feared bringing Kitty on board was tantamount to plopping a wolf in a field of gentle lambs.
Hazel only prayed that her school—and her life’s dream—would survive the test.