‘He is indeed, which is why I want you to promise me that you will not admit him here if he calls. A few days’ peace will allow me to think about how I can best dissuade him from this.’ Zenna looked doubtful, but Tallie persisted. ‘Promise me, Zenna!’
‘Very well,’ her friend agreed. ‘Beside our friends and tradespeople, I will admit prospective parents only.’
That provoked a laugh from Tallie. ‘Come now, Zenna! Even for someone as confident as you, that is carrying expectation too far, is it not?’
‘It is not impossible,’ Zenna retorted, passing a plate of ham across the table. ‘I have confided my intentions to a number of people and I do think this house will prove suitable. Now, tell me more calmly about this idea of yours to admit young women of no means. How can we afford it?’
‘I will pay their fees. We cannot take many, I quite realise that, but even a few who leave with the skills to manage their own small business, or become governesses or companions—surely that is better for them than struggling in poverty when they have the intelligence and the spirit to do better for themselves?’
Zenna looked thoughtful. ‘Yes, you are right. Think what a difficult situation you or I would have been in if we had tried to make our own way in the world with no education.’ She delved into her reticule for the set of tablets and pencil that inevitably accompanied her. ‘This has given me much to think about and will change some of my calculations.’ She sucked the end of her pencil thoughtfully. ‘How many girls do you think we should start with?’
Tallie, who had begun by using her idea as a defence against having to think about Nick and how miserable she felt, found herself drawn deep into Zenna’s plans and how they could be adapted to accommodate her ‘special students', as Zenna called them.
Dinner time found the pair of them still hunched over the dining table surrounded by sheets of paper, Zenna’s tablets long exhausted. Rough sketch plans of each floor with scribbled notes about alterations jostled with lists of everything from subjects to be taught to bed linen required.
They continued during the meal until Tallie spilled gravy on Zenna’s tabulated curriculum for the youngest girls.
‘Enough!’ she announced, mopping it up. ‘I am too tired to concentrate any more. In fact, if you will excuse me, Zenna, I will go direct to my bed. I declare I had no idea that education would be such an exhausting undertaking.’
Her friend, who had been prepared to carry on talking until she dropped if that helped keep the haunted look from Tallie’s eyes, nodded encouragingly. ‘What a good idea. I will just make sure the maids have locked up and then I will not be far behind you.’
Tallie fell asleep instantly, hardly stirring when Zenna slipped into the other side of the big bed they were sharing.
But her slumber was racked with nightmares and she tossed and turned, muttering under her breath until poor Zenna seriously considered taking a pillow and the counterpane and trying to sleep on the chaise longue in the front parlour.
In consequence, it was two heavy-eyed young ladies who regarded each other over a very late breakfast. ‘What were you dreaming about?’ Zenna demanded bluntly, draining her second helping of hot chocolate and reaching for the pot to refill her cup. ‘It was like sharing the bed with a basket of puppies.’
Tallie rubbed her aching brow and tried to recall. ‘I was in class and you were telling me to write on my slate “I will marry Lord Arndale” one thousand times. And when I refused you turned into him and he shouted at me that I was ruined and must go and stand in the corner and disobeying him was no way to learn ancient Greek. And I would not do that either so he took me in his arms and …’
‘Yes?’ Zenna’s chocolate cup tilted dangerously.
‘… said he would have to kiss me until I could do all my irregular verbs.’
‘I am sure I would never have learned mine if that was the penalty for disobedience,’ Zenna observed dispassionately.
‘Zenna!’
‘Well, he is extraordinarily attractive, and if you do not want him …’
‘I do want him! But not on his terms, so there is no use in teasing me—I am not refusing him on a whim.’
They both chased their sweet rolls around their plates in a desultory manner.
‘I suppose I should sort out those papers from yesterday,’ Zenna observed, making no move to do so.
‘Hmm. It is a nice day; perhaps we should look at the garden.’ Tallie too stayed sitting at the breakfast table.
Suddenly Zenna pushed back her chair and got to her feet. ‘I know what will blow the cobwebs away. Come along, up to the attics.’
‘That’s more likely to cover us in cobwebs,’ Tallie grumbled, but she submitted to being urged towards the back stairs and climbed up behind Zenna to the very top.
‘There!’ Zenna flung open the door to reveal light-filled, spacious rooms opening one after another. ‘There is a mansard roof,’ she explained, gesturing at the high ceilings and big windows. ‘It is unconventional, but I thought of having my rooms up here.
There is room for both of us, in fact—a bedroom each, two dressing-rooms and a big sitting-room.’
Tallie nodded, catching her enthusiasm.
‘But the space is not the best thing, just look at the view.’ Zenna flung open a window and, ducking slightly, stepped out onto the leads. Without thinking Tallie followed her, then clutched the window frame with a gasp.
Because of the design of the roof there was a flat walkway, perhaps five foot wide, running around the edge of the roof before it sloped up steeply to its flat top. The edge was bounded by a stone balustrade at about waist height and, even with her back to the window, Tallie could see the wide view across the rooftops of Putney to the sparkle of the river beyond.
Careless of the height, Zenna perched on the balustrade and called, ‘Come and see. It is quite safe, the stonework is sound.’ She glanced back over her shoulder, and saw Tallie’s face. ‘Oh, I am sorry, I had forgotten about your fear of heights.’
‘It is very foolish of me,’ Tallie said firmly, making herself let go of the window frame and stand up. ‘The view is indeed lovely and I think the rooms would be delightful.’ Her stomach heaved, but she managed to fix a smile on her face, wondering what she could do to lure Zenna off the parapet and away from that dreadful drop.
In the event Zenna hopped off with as little concern as she would have shown getting up from a chair and leaned over, heedless of the effect on the elbows of her gown. ‘Oh, look, a carriage has drawn up. Now who can that be?’ She leaned further, oblivious of Tallie’s squeak of alarm. ‘Not Mrs Blackstock, for it is not a hackney carriage. I know—it must be Lady Whinstanley, she was most interested when I told her about my plans and she has a house somewhere near.’
‘You had better run down, then,’ Tallie managed to say. ‘It would never do to keep her waiting.’ To her immense relief Zenna straightened up and ducked back through the window.
As the sound of her footsteps diminished down the stairs Tallie began to back into the room,
