of food. His own boarding house fare usually consisted of lumpy porridge and a weak cup of tea.
Concentrating on his food, Nick listened to Miss Shepard chattering away to her father. He answered in monosyllables, with an occasional “What’s that you say?” thrown in, but he never lowered his paper more than a fraction.
Nick marveled at how Shepard could have produced such a lovely creature—and not realize what a treasure he had. Poor motherless child. He knew she had a much older brother. Nick had seen him a few times at the firm—Mr. Geoffrey Shepard, a pompous man in his late twenties.
Miss Shepard leaned forward, setting down her knife and fork. “Did you hear me, Papa?”
“What’s that you say?”
“I said we are planning an excursion to Richmond Park. Can you not come?”
“I return to London this afternoon. Take Miss Bellows with you.”
Nick knew he referred to a companion of sorts he’d briefly met in the servants’ quarters. His gaze rested in sympathy on Miss Shepard’s crestfallen features. He turned with a start to find Mr. Shepard focused on him, his gray-blue eyes sharp and piercing. “I’ll need those figures on Henderson, Ltd. before I go.”
“Yes, sir.” Nick drained the last of his tea and stood. “I’ll get to it right away.”
Miss Shepard smiled at him. “So long, Mr. Tennent. Perhaps I shall see you tomorrow?” Her eyes told him she was referring to the tennis court.
“Perhaps. Good morning, Miss Shepard.” With a bow, he left the room.
Of course, he couldn’t join her again tomorrow. It was sheer folly…
Chapter Two
Awake since the sky had begun to lighten, Alice let out a massive sigh of relief when she saw Mr. Tennent walking across the lawn toward the court.
Not until that moment did she realize how disappointed she would have been if he hadn’t shown up. She’d prayed hard last night that he wouldn’t be discouraged after only one lesson.
She fingered the head of her racket as she watched his long stride. His serious air made Victor and the other boys of her acquaintance seem just that—boys! Biting her lip, she glanced down at her calf-length plaid skirt and sailor top. How she wished she were one year older and wore ankle-length dresses like a lady. Did Mr. Tennent see her as just a schoolgirl? She cringed, remembering the silly game of hide-and-seek she’d been playing the day she’d burst in on him.
She smiled as he approached her. “Good morning.”
He nodded, his dark eyes meeting hers, their formality lessening as he gave her a slight smile. “Good morning, Miss Shepard.”
She tilted her head. “Ready to have another go?”
“If you’ve the patience and fortitude.”
Her smile widened in relief. She handed him the extra racket. “You did very well for your first time. Come, I’ll serve first.”
“Very well.” He shed his coat this time and laid it carefully on a wrought iron chair by the side of the court.
She began gently, giving him a chance to review what she’d taught him the day before. They played for about twenty minutes before taking a break.
“I brought some water for us,” she said, leading him to the yew hedge where she had stashed two stone flasks. “It should still be cold.”
“Thank you.” He took the one she handed him then waited until she had uncapped hers and brought it to her lips before following suit. “How did I do today? Any improvement?” he asked, lowering the flask.
“Oh, a vast amount. You’re a natural athlete.”
He made a sound of disbelief.
“You don’t believe me? It’s the truth. I can tell. You’re nothing like most of the boys on the court who try and act as if they knew something.” She studied his face, hoping she was convincing him not to give up, but the steady way he regarded her was hard to read.
Mr. Tennent wiped his brow with his handkerchief, pushing back his dark curls.
Hoping to draw out more about his fascinating past, she said, “Tell me more about your mother.”
He looked away from her, and she bit her lip, afraid she had offended him. Her governess had always said she was too direct.
But he answered with no sign of displeasure. “She had to take us into the mill with her when we were young, and put us to work as soon as we could wind a thread around a bobbin.”
“She must have been a brave woman to raise four boys all alone.” His tale had haunted her last night. It had sounded so unbearably romantic.
He pocketed his handkerchief. He was standing in his vest and shirtsleeves. Even in his typical clerk’s attire, he stood out. There was something distinguished about him. “No matter how tired she was,” he continued in a quiet tone, “she always gave us a lesson after dinner in the evenings before we went to bed. She had saved a few school-books and one or two storybooks from her teaching days. Those and the Bible formed our only amusement at home.”
She pictured the cozy scene, a mother with her four boys surrounding her on a settee, or with her arms around them on a wide bed flanked by soft pillows. “It must have been nice to have a mother read to you at night.”
“Didn’t anyone ever read to you at bedtime?”
She blushed beneath his close scrutiny. “My nurse told me stories when I was very young, and then Miss Duffy, my governess, read to me when I was a little older.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t have a mother to read to you at bedtime,” he said softly.
His tone was so gentle it was as if he had known how lonely her childhood had been. Afraid he’d pity her, she set down her water bottle and picked up her racket. “Come on, let’s get back to our game before you have to work.”
He followed her out to the court. This time, she hit the ball a little harder and enjoyed watching him run to meet it. She, too, was forced to run across the court when he returned it equally forcefully. Laughing from sheer joy at the physical exertion, she swung at the ball and watched it clear the net.
By the time they finished their lesson, they were both red in the face, but never had she had more fun on the court.
“What about tomorrow morning?” she asked him, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.
“It depends on your father. I might be called back to London.”
Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Of course.” Trust Father to ruin her fun. “Do you think he’ll bring you back out again?”
“I have no way of knowing.”
“Well, if you should come back, I challenge you to a match.”
He
