I wasn’t the only one affected. My mother hadn’t moved since he’d opened the door. I wasn’t sure she was breathing.
Until she cleared her throat. “You must be Father Magnus Falke.”
He gave a sharp nod without releasing me from his gaze. No empathy, no warmth, not a hint of reassurance in his body language.
If this was the headteacher who would be controlling my life for the next year, I was in deeper shit than I’d thought.
CHAPTER 2
TINSLEY
I scrambled to my feet and brushed off my pants while inching closer to my mother. I wanted to grab her and beg her not to leave me here with this priest. But something told me I shouldn’t show fear or weakness in his presence.
His gaze fed upon the trembling in my hands. The twitch of his lips said he liked it. He enjoyed my distress. God, I hoped I was wrong. Maybe his frosty greeting was nothing more than a scare tactic to keep new students in line.
“Caroline Constantine.” My mother extended a manicured hand, her voice silky smooth. “You spoke to my assistant and agreed to my requirements for Tinsley’s instruction.”
“I’m aware.” He grasped her fingers.
She smiled, tightening her grip. He gave no reaction, and the handshake lingered long after the two-second rule.
Celibate or not, no man could resist my mother. She was a portrait of gilded beauty. With her golden hair and glowing skin, she could be mistaken for my older sister, and she knew it. Her confidence was one of her greatest weapons, and God help the poor souls who fell into her trap.
She slowly withdrew her hand, maintaining eye contact. “You have a reputation, Father Falke.”
“Magnus.”
“Father Magnus.” She cocked her head, wearing a pleasant expression. “I’ve chosen your school for my youngest because you have a history of success in reforming troubled girls and transforming them into respectable young ladies.”
“Wait. What?” My stomach clenched. “This is a boarding school, not a reform school.” A buzzing sound thrashed in my ears. “Right?”
She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I understand that you will personally take over Tinsley’s education and discipline.”
“Yes.” His detached tone chilled me.
“Are you serious?” My mouth hung open. “I’m not troubled, and I sure as hell don’t need special treatment. What is this? What are you not telling me?”
She tossed me an irritated glance. “Father Magnus offers a unique training program for girls like you.”
“Girls like me? You mean girls who exist only as pawns for their parents in business negotiations?”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Oh, right, so you’re referring to the girls whose mothers are too busy, too important to deal with insignificant tasks like parenting.” Rancor burned in my throat. “You’re a monster.”
“If I were a monster, I would sit back and watch you ruin your life.”
“Instead, you’ll happily ruin it for me.” Disgusted, I looked away, forcing my attention to Father Magnus. “What’s the arrangement that was made for me?”
“Most students come in as freshmen.” Rich, deep, and startlingly seductive, his voice curled into my belly, tightening it. “Since you’re a senior, your situation is different. Tomorrow, you’ll take a series of aptitude tests. Once I know your academic skill level, I’ll determine your class schedule. You may have some classes with your peers. But in the courses where you’re struggling—”
“I’m not struggling. My grades are stellar.”
“The elite curriculum at Sion Academy is leagues ahead of other private schools. I’ll work with you one-on-one to bring you up to speed on your lessons and religious training, as well as correcting your behavior.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my behavior.”
His hand lowered to his side, drawing my attention to the motion of his thumb rubbing against his forefinger. God only knew what that subtle gesture meant, but it made me wonder if he were fighting the impulse to reach out and strangle me.
Did he think I was disrespectful? Mouthy? Slutty? Ignorant? What had he been told about me? And how much of it was true?
“What do you mean by correcting my behavior?” I stood taller, trying to appear as unflappable as he was.
“It can mean many things.”
Vague. Never a good sign.
Hollywood liked to portray Catholic school priests as tyrannical and heartless. But that couldn’t be accurate. Godly people were supposed to be compassionate.
Except I didn’t detect an ounce of compassion in his stony eyes. Instead, they promised insufferable rules and swift punishment.
A creeping sense of dread settled over me. “What are the punishments here?”
“For minor misdeeds, you’ll pray the rosary. Other penances may include an early curfew, manual labor, or social isolation.” His low, velvety baritone was a taunt in my ears. “In extreme cases, corporal punishment is employed.”
“That’s…” My mouth dried. “You mean abuse?”
“Physical pain and psychological humiliation.”
“Oh my God.” I wasn’t aware of my feet moving backward until I bumped into my mother. “You hit your students? Like…with a paddle? A yardstick?”