After her success in tricking Sir Aaron, Louisa should have been pleased. With him away, she could take his place in meeting with Mr. Barker. The guilt that tried to overtake her for the deception should have been the cause of her displeasure, but it was not.
Unfortunately, because she and Ruth were the oldest of the students, Mrs. Rutley had tasked them to remain at the school while she and Mrs. Shepherd were away. They were not due to return until well after the midday meeting, which only increased Louisa’s frustration.
If she did not make that meeting, Sir Aaron would likely stop at the theater the moment he returned. Therefore, it was imperative that she speak to Mr. Barker first.
To make matters worse, Mrs. Rutley had requested that she and Ruth lead a discussion as a way for the newer students to ask questions about staying at the school, yet the silence was deafening.
Leah Gibbons, a mousy girl of fourteen with dark-blonde hair and brown eyes so dark they were nearly black, wrung her hands together.
“Is something bothering you, Leah?” Louisa asked.
“Mrs. Rutley said we can ask questions,” Leah said in a voice so quiet that Louisa had to strain to hear it. “I have one, but I’m unsure if it’s proper to ask it.”
Louisa gave her a warm smile. She remembered what it was like to be the younger student full of worry and frightened she would make a misstep. Yet the only way for her and the others to grow was by learning. Which was what Louisa meant to explain. Yet Ruth spoke first.
“First of all, there is nothing improper when it is just us girls. Ask us anything.”
Louisa stifled a groan. Ruth was opening a door that was likely best left closed!
Excited whispers filled the air. “Well,” Leah said, her voice at a better volume now, “I heard a rumor—gossip if you will—that one of the former students here was forced to marry a madman who lived in a forest. I think her name was Julia. Is that true?”
Louisa laughed but cut it short when Leah’s cheeks turned pink.
“I know it sounds silly,” Leah said. “But that is what I heard.”
“And who told you this?” Ruth asked.
“Abigail Swanson. The day before she left.”
Ruth sighed. “One thing you must learn is that you cannot trust everything you hear. Abigail Swanson enjoys telling completely false tales.” She went on to correct the story, or at least a portion of it. Some parts she omitted because of the sacred oath they had made beneath the tree, and Louisa was glad Ruth had remembered that. Leah, nor any of the other girls, did not need to know everything. Ruth only needed to correct the untruth. The rest was none of Leah’s concern.
Once Leah was satisfied with the response, another student asked about excursions. Another asked about the London Season. Louisa and Ruth answered every question to the best of their ability, doing what they could to appease them all.
Then Amy Felton asked a question. Of all the new students, Louisa liked Amy the most. Abigail had once attempted to bully her, but a threat from Ruth had put a stop to that.
“Who scratched the initials into the tree?” Amy asked.
To Louisa’s relief, Mrs. Rutley returned before she had to answer. The question was far too personal, in her opinion. Plus, now she could leave to see Mr. Barker.
“How is everything?” Mrs. Rutley asked.
“Wonderful,” Ruth replied flatly. “We covered a variety of topics to appease their young minds.”
Mrs. Rutley smiled. “Don’t forget you were one of those young minds once.” In her hand was a collection of documents, and a sudden urge to pry rose in Louisa. Yet she pushed it away. The last time she looked into something that was none of her business, she had confused a dog for a young boy. Her days of snooping were behind her.
“We’re off to the village,” Louisa said to the headmistress. “Is there anything you would like us to bring back with us?”
When Mrs. Rutley replied in the negative, the two young ladies donned their spencers and walked out into the bright afternoon sunlight. Louisa’s plan for the day was simple. She planned to speak to Mr. Barker to assure him that she could save the theater. And to convince him that selling to Sir Aaron would be a grave mistake. For him and for the village.
Louisa picked up her step. It was nearly half-past two, two and a half hours past the meeting Sir Aaron had scheduled with Mr. Barker. It was vital that she be there before he realized he had been tricked.
They arrived in the village quicker than they had ever traveled, and soon they entered the theater. A painting of a wall with curtained windows provided the backdrop for two of the performers who were rehearsing their lines. Mr. Barker stood in the center aisle, his hands on his hips.
“Excellent, Miss Susan! Continue with that same emotion throughout the scene. Milford, you must project your voice if you want to be heard. Remember, this isn’t your mother’s sitting room. Everyone in the entire theater must hear what you’re saying.”
Miss Susan, a buxom woman with brownish-blonde hair and a dark beauty patch on her cheek, reddened. “Thank you, Mr. Barker. She then turned back to Milford, a man around her same age and at least a head taller than she with dark hair that curled around his ears.
With a nod from Louisa, Ruth returned to the foyer as Louisa approached Mr. Barker.