Lisa Kleypas - Seduce Me At Sunrise

"What happened at school?" Kev asked with his customary bluntness.

Beatrix unburdened herself eagerly. "Oh. Merripen, it was all my fault. School is horrid. I abhor it. I did make a friend or two, and I was sorry to leave them. But I didn't get on with my teachers. I was always saying the wrong thing in class, asking the wrong questions-"

"It appeared," Amelia said wryly, "that the Hathaway method of learning and debating wasn't welcome in school."

"And I got into some rows," Beatrix continued, "because some of the girls said their parents told them not to associate with me because we have Gypsies in the family, and for all they knew I might be part Gypsy, too. And I said I wasn't, but even if I were it was no cause for shame, and I called them snobs, and then there was a lot of scratching and hair-pulling."

Kev swore under his breath. He exchanged glances with Rohan, who looked grim. Their presence in the family was a liability to the Hathaway sisters… and yet there was no remedy for that.

"And then," Beatrix said, "my problem came back."

Everyone was silent. Kev reached out and settled his hand on her head, his fingers curving over the shape of her skill. "Chavi," he murmured, a Romany endearment for a young girl. Since he rarely used the old language, Beatrix gave him a round-eyed look of surprise.

Beatrix's problem had first appeared after Mr. Hath-away's death. It recurred every now and then in times of anxiety or distress. She had a compulsion to steal things, usually small things like pencil stubs or bookmarks, or the odd piece of flatware. Sometimes she didn't even remember taking an object. Later she would suffer intense remorse, and go to extraordinary lengths to return the things she had filched.

Kev removed his hand from her head and looked down at her. "What did you take, little ferret?" he asked gently.

She looked chagrined. "Hair ribbons, combs, books… small things. And then I tried to put everything back, but I couldn't remember where it all went. So there was a great rumpus, and I came forward to confess, and I was asked to leave the school. And now I'll never be a lady."

"Yes, you will," Amelia said at once. "We're going to hire a governess, which is what we should have done in the beginning."

Beatrix regarded her doubtfully. "I don't think I would want any governess who would work for our family."

"Oh, we're not as bad as all that-," Amelia began.

"Yes, we are," Poppy informed her. "We're odd, Amelia. I've always told you that. We were odd even before you brought Mr. Rohan into the family." Casting a quick glance at Cam, she said, "No offense meant, Mr. Rohan."

His eyes glinted with amusement. "None taken."

Poppy turned to Kev. "No matter how difficult it is to find a proper governess, we must have one. I need help. My season has been nothing short of disaster, Merripen."

"It's only been two months," Kev said. "How can it be a disaster?"

"I'm a wallflower."

"You can't be."

"I'm lower than a wallflower," she told him. "No man wants anything to do with me."

Kev looked at Rohan and Amelia incredulously. A beautiful, intelligent girl like Poppy should have been overrun with suitors. "What is the matter with these gadjos?” Kev asked in amazement.

"They're all idiots," Rohan said. "They never waste an opportunity to prove it."

Glancing back at Poppy, Kev cut to the chase. "Is it because there are Gypsies in the family? Is that why you're not sought after?"

"Well, it doesn't exactly help," Poppy admitted. "But the greater problem is that I have no social graces. I'm constantly making faux pas. And I'm dreadful at small talk. You're supposed to go lightly from topic to topic like a butterfly. It's not easy to do, and there's no point to it. And the young men who do bring themselves to approach me find an excuse to flee after five minutes. Because they flirt and say the silliest things, and I have no idea how to respond."

"I wouldn't want any of them for her, anyway," Amelia said crisply. "You should see them, Merripen. A more useless flock of preening peacocks could not be found."

"I believe it would be called a muster of peacocks," Poppy said. "Not a flock."

"Call them a knot of toads instead," Beatrix said.

"A colony of penguins," Amelia joined in.

"A rumpus of baboons," Poppy said, laughing.

Kev smiled slightly, but he was still preoccupied. Poppy had always dreamed of a London season. For it to turn out this way must be a crushing disappointment. "Have you been invited to the right events?" he asked. "The dances… the dinner things…"

"Balls and soirees," Poppy supplied. "Yes, thanks to the patronage of Lord Westcliff and Lord St. Vincent, we've received invitations. But merely getting past the door doesn't make one desirable, Merripen. It only affords one the opportunity to prop up the wall while everyone else dances."

Kev frowned at Amelia and Rohan. "What are you going to do about this?"

"We're going to withdraw Poppy from the season," Amelia said, "and tell everyone that on second thought, she's still too young to be out in society."

"No one will believe that," Beatrix said. "After all, Poppy's almost nineteen"

"There's no need to make me sound like a warty old crone, Bea," Poppy said indignantly.

"-and in the meantime," Amelia continued with great patience, "we'll find a governess who will teach both Poppy and Beatrix how to behave."

"She had better be good," Beatrix said, pulling a grunting black-and-white guinea pig from her pocket and snuggling it under her chin. "We have a lot to overcome. Don't we, Mr. Nibbles?"

Later, Amelia took Kev aside. She reached into the pocket of her gown and extracted a small, white square. She gave it to him, her gaze searching his face. "Win wrote other letters to the family, and of course you shall read those as well. But this was addressed solely to you."

Unable to speak, Kev closed his fingers around the bit of parchment sealed with wax.

He went to his hotel room, which was separate from the rest of the family's at his request. Sitting at a small table, he broke the seal with scrupulous care.

There was Win's familiar writing, the pen strokes small and precise.

Dear Kev,

I hope this letter finds you in full health and vigor. I cannot imagine you in any other state, actually. Every morning I awaken in this place, which seems another world entirely, and I am surprised anew to find myself so far away from my family. And from you.

The journey across the channel was trying, the land route to the clinic even more so. As you know, I am not a good traveler, but Leo saw me safely here. He is now residing a short distance away as a paying guest at a small chateau, and so far he has come to visit every other day…

Win's letter went on to describe the clinic, which was quiet and austere. The patients suffered from a variety of ailments, but most especially those of the lung and pulmonary system.

Instead of dosing them with narcotic drugs and keeping them inside, as most doctors prescribed, Dr. Harrow put them all on a program of exercise, cold baths, health tonics, and a simple abstemious diet. Compelling the patients to exercise was a controversial treatment, but according to Dr. Harrow, motion was the prevailing instinct of all animal life.

The patients started every day with a morning walk outside, rain or shine, followed by an hour in the gymnasium for activities such as ladder-climbing or lifting dumbbells. So far Win could hardly manage any exercises without becoming severely out of breath, but she thought she could detect a small improvement in her abilities. Everyone at the clinic was required to practice breathing on a new device called a spirometer, an apparatus for measuring the volume of air inspired and expired by the lungs.