Lessons After Dark by Isabel Cooper Read Free Book Online Page B

boxing.” Simon made a wry face. “Marksmanship as well, eventually.”
    Gareth lifted his eyebrows and whistled. “One doesn’t often meet an Amazon in Britain these days,” he said. “I take it the parents don’t know all that you’re teaching their children.”
    â€œI’d assume not. Colonel Woodwell might, but he, from all reports, is eccentric enough not to care, and Miss Woodwell has attained her majority, in any case.” Simon absently ticked off students on his fingers as he spoke. “Fitzpatrick’s mother, pardon both the language and the slight, probably doesn’t give a damn as long as he’s out from underfoot and not disrupting her performances, and there’s no father in the picture there. The Donnells and the Fairleys were at their wits’ end, so I can’t imagine we’ll have much trouble from them.”
    â€œWaite?”
    â€œCould be trouble, if he writes home too tellingly and too soon. His parents are both radicals, by Society’s standards, but I’m not certain they’re radical enough to accept some of what happens here.”
    â€œA pity you don’t just accept orphans.”
    â€œI’ve thought so myself, at times,” Simon said, “but we do need some fees coming in. I can’t impose myself entirely on friends and family, you know. They start fleeing to the Continent before too long.”
    Gareth laughed. “Only those of us who can travel in style,” he said. “Have you heard from Eleanor?”
    â€œA letter came this morning. She should’ve reached Rome by now. She was in Paris when she wrote.” Simon chuckled. “If Ellie ever tires of helping me with this madhouse, by the way, she’d have an excellent future writing for Baedeker or Murray. I’m surprised France has any stationary left.”
    That sounded like Simon’s younger sister, whom Gareth remembered as an intense, bookish sort of schoolgirl. She’d been somehow connected with Alex too, which meant her trip abroad might not have been entirely for pleasure. Something else he didn’t ask.
    â€œDoes she forget you’ve been there?”
    â€œI think she rather assumes I didn’t appreciate it properly.” Simon glanced over at Gareth. “How about your family? Have you seen them since you’ve been back?”
    It wasn’t a tentative question, but Simon asked it with a diffident tone that was almost worse than boorishness. Still, he meant well.
    â€œWent up to Kent a month before I came here. They’re well.” That was true. There’d been no tragic homecoming, no stormy scenes. His mother had embraced him, and his father had been proud of him. Gareth knew he really shouldn’t ask for more.
    Particularly because he didn’t know what more he could have asked.
    â€œThey all send their best,” he added and turned the conversation to lighter things, as he might have steered a balky horse. “Jenny, my niece, wasn’t exactly heartbroken when she heard you were married. Sorry to hurt your pride.”
    â€œBeen replaced, have I?”
    Gareth nodded. “By the grocer’s lad, if I hear correctly. I think Helen had more peace of mind when it was you. Especially as this one might actually return Jenny’s affection—she can actually speak complete sentences around him. Clearly he doesn’t have your overwhelming charm.”
    â€œYes,” Simon said, “I’m sure it’s that, and not the difference between twelve and sixteen.”
    Both of them fell silent. Gareth watched a flock of birds, starlings, he thought, cross the gray sky, heading south.
    Four years had passed since Simon had come home with him, that week when they’d roamed the countryside, talked late over wine, and shared gentle laughter at Jenny’s moon-eyed infatuation when they were sure she wasn’t around. Simon had left for town shortly