Page 12 of Indecently Daring

“Well, of course he’s teaching now, dear, but if you walk over to the vicarage, you’ll find him easily enough.”

Alana turned back to Cat, who had taken Miss Dudley’s arm and was marching her back down the aisle towards the vestry. “Is there a sink? Soap and water at least?” she demanded.

“Oh, yes, the vicar is most particular about… it’s all very….” Miss Dudley said helplessly.

“Come find me when you’ve finished here, Cat,” Alana called after her friend, receiving a very business-like nod in return.

Well, once Cat focused on something, she was rather an unstoppable force. Certainly a feather-brained creature like Miss Dudley had no chance of resisting her. Smiling with amusement, Alana headed back out of the church and in the direction of the vicarage.

Rather to her surprise, it was the sound of laughter that drew Alana towards the elegant, whitewashed building that was the vicarage for the Church of St Nicolas. It was a large house, built in the classic, square symmetrical style of the last century, with large sash windows and a portico over the front door. Alana knocked, and waited, and waited, but no answer was forthcoming. Remembering that her aunt had said something about the vicar needing a housekeeper, she set off in the direction of the laughter.

With hindsight, Harry wasn’t certain that Ivanhoe had been the most intelligent choice of reading matter for his boys. He’d known the derring-do of the hero would find favour, but he had not banked on quite the amount of swords fights and overexcited re-enacting of the battles as they had provided him with.

Still, it had encouraged Jeb with his reading, to the extent the boy would beg to read another chapter even after the school day had ended. This from a child who had watched the clock incessantly until a few short weeks ago. It had encouraged him in his theatrical endeavours too, it seemed, for the boy was holding the rest of the class in awe as he stood on his desk, reciting from memory. Jeb was perhaps eight years old, but was skinny and slight, so he looked younger. His sandy blond hair was thick and curling and badly needed cutting, for the other lads teased him over his lovely locks. Harry made a mental note to persuade the boy to let him do it. Perhaps it wouldn’t be pretty, but it might avoid Jake Phillips ending up with another black eye when Jeb lost his temper again.

Harry’s lips twitched at the boy’s over dramatic retelling, which was nonetheless word perfect and most enthusiastic. His smile dimmed, however, as the door opened, and an unwelcome but lovely vision appeared.

“Silence, maiden; thy tongue outruns thy discretion!” Jeb pronounced fiercely, at which Miss Cadogan bristled.

“I beg your pardon! I haven’t said a word yet.”

The entire class stared, dumbstruck, and for a horrible moment Harry thought she was serious, but then she gave a snort of laughter.

“Oh, your faces,” she crowed, delighted. “And what a marvellous rendition. How clever of your teacher to choose such an interesting book to study.”

The boys roared with laughter, which evidently pleased Miss Cadogan. She looked dreadfully smug and got that laughing look in her eyes that made the back of Harry’s neck prickle with anxiety and made him think thoughts a vicar had no business entertaining.

“Boys! Is that how gentlemen behave in the presence of a lady?” he demanded severely.

“If the lady’s as pretty as this ’un, and they’ve a lick of sense, aye,” one young devil muttered under his breath. Harry scowled and suspected Peter Willis, who was something of a wag, and would do anything to get a laugh.

“You will stand up smartly in the presence of a lady and keep your mouths shut,” Harry said firmly. “Now, Miss Cadogan, what can we do for you?”

“Oh, er… actually, I wanted to speak with you, but I see now I’m rather de trop,” she said sheepishly.

“’Ere, isn’t that French?” demanded Jeb, who was full of surprises today.

“That’s right,” Miss Cadogan said, smiling at the boy. “It means too much.”

Jeb looked the lady frankly up and down. “You don’t look too much to me, miss, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

“Jeb!” Harry said severely. “You do not make personal observations about a lady’s figure.”

Jeb gave him a sceptical look. “Beg pardon, Rev, but Greg Clark told the barmaid at the Lamb somethin’ of the sort, and it worked out well enough for him, and what with you being a vicar, I reckon he might have more experience of that kind of thing. No offence.”

Before Harry could even begin to decide how to respond to that little gem, a soft sniggering sound caught his attention, and he looked up to see Miss Cadogan fighting a fit of the giggles. Harry did his best to tamp down his irritation but, really, she was a blessed nuisance. Not content with disturbing his lesson and inciting the boys, now she was laughing at him.

“Was there something you wanted?” Harry growled.

“Y-Yes, I told you so,” the lady said unsteadily. “But I see I’ve called at a bad time. I’ll come back again anoth—”

“Oh, no you won’t,” Harry said firmly, stalking towards her. The idea she might come back and repeat this experience was far too disturbing. “If you’ve something to say, I’ll have it now, I thank you. Boys, you will read the next chapter in silence whilst I am gone. In silence. Mark my words or you’ll spend the entire morning on conjugating Latin verbs tomorrow.”

There was a collective groan, but the boys obediently settled down with their books.

“I’m sorry for barging in on you,” the irritating baggage said the moment he had closed the door behind them.

Harry said nothing, walking on towards the front door in the hope he could have dealt with whatever it was she wanted by the time he got there.