Unseemly Ambition Read Online Free

it.”
    “ But there are male
teachers at the school who are married. They just go home each day
after classes, rather than live here.”
    “ But they aren’t the ones
in charge of the household and the children, silly—”
    The voice broke off at the rapid
approach of another student.
    “ Has anyone seen my scarf?”
a girl asked urgently. It was Miss Lovelace.
    “ No. I think you took it
off on the hill. You got too hot, remember?”
    Concordia checked the clock. Almost
ten. Time to break up this little chat. She opened her door and
crossed the hall to the parlor. “Shouldn’t you ladies be getting
ready for bed?”
    One of the few steadfast policies of
the college was the “ten o’clock rule”: students in bed, lights
out, by ten o’clock.
    Miss Lovelace turned to
Concordia, eyes pleading. “I know it’s late, but can I go back and
get my scarf, please ? I’ll run very fast.”
    “ In the dark?” Concordia
said skeptically. “That would be foolhardy in the extreme. It’s not
going anywhere, dear. It can wait until morning.”
    The girl bit her lip.
    “ Miss Wells,” one of her
friends said, “it’s the scarf her grandmother made her last
Christmas. It’s very special.” The young lady’s voice grew subdued.
“Her grandmother died only a few weeks ago.”
    Concordia threw up her
hands in surrender. “All right, but I’ll go. Tell Ruby I’ll be back
shortly. And get to bed .”
    Miss Lovelace nodded her thanks. “You
can’t miss it—it’s bright red wool.”
    Well, apparently it could be missed, since the
heedless girl had failed to bring it back with her, but Concordia
was too tired to argue the point. She bundled into her jacket and
brought a lantern, setting out for the path to Rook’s
Hill.
    The air was bitterly cold.
Thankfully, it had stopped snowing and a nearly full moon had
risen, making it easier for her to search as she trudged up the
hill. Ah , there it
was, huddled beside a shrub. She picked up the scarf, stopping a
moment to catch her breath.
    A moving shadow caught her eye.
Looking up, she saw the silhouette of a man walking along the crest
of the hill.
    The figure was of medium height and a
slender build. A youth, perhaps? Concordia couldn’t see his face,
as he was wrapped up in a thick muffler. He walked at a brisk pace,
pulling his collar more tightly against the chill air. Suddenly he
stopped and bent down to look in the snow at his feet.
    Concordia’s mouth set in a grim line.
Strange men shouldn’t be strolling the grounds of a women’s
college. How had he gotten past the gatekeeper?
    “ Hello? Who are you?” she
called out, with as much breath as she could muster. She puffed up
the hill toward him, avoiding the slick coasting tracks.
    The figure turned toward the sound,
hesitated, then ran.
    “ Wait!” Concordia called
out, trying to run after him. However, racing up a snowy hill in
full skirts does not allow one much speed—or solid footing. Soon
she went sprawling, landing on her stomach with a decided oomph .
    Drat. She hastily got to her feet and clambered to the top of the
hill. She looked around, but even with the moonlight on the snowy
landscape, the man was nowhere to be seen.
    What had he been looking for? She
crouched down in the snow, probing with mittened hands. Then she
felt something. The moonlight picked up the sheen of a brass pin,
though she could see little else in this light. She stuck it in her
jacket pocket to look at later, and trudged back to Willow
Cottage.
     
     

CHAPTER THREE
     
    I am bound to thee for
ever.
    Othello , III.iii
     
    Week 3, Instructor Calendar
    February 1898
     
    Concordia’s first
impression, when she peeked through a side door into the
nave, was that of a profusion of blooms.
Sophia’s family must have raided every hothouse in Hartford.
Lilies, oleander, and chrysanthemums spilled over from vases tucked
into alcoves, beside doors and windowsills. While beautiful, the
sheer volume of floral sweetness was