Once everything was gathered, she slipped out of her chambers and tiptoed down the stairs, then exited through the back entrance. The sun had already started to set. She would use the darkness to hide her escape. The pin money Graystone had sent her over the several months she’d been at school would help her on this adventure. She had everything she would possibly need.
The sound of voices echoed back to her…a male and a female were talking in hushed tones. They were up ahead and that made them directly in the middle of her route. Drat… She’d have to circle back and go the long way around. When she heard her name, she stopped to listen.
“How has the fair Christiana been?” a man asked.
Chris wrinkled her nose. Who was that? She froze and leaned against the wall when she realized who was there…the Marquess of Foxworth. What was he doing at Miss Agatha’s school? Part of her wanted to march up to him and smack him on principle alone. She loathed that man, and it couldn’t be good he was at her school. She may not know what he was up to, but she was certain it couldn’t be good. Her heart beat heavily inside her chest and heat flooded her cheeks. Chris clenched her fists, but somehow managed to refrain from acting on her worst impulses.
“Lady Christiana is doing well,” Miss Agatha said. “I’ve done as you asked and kept an eye on her. You were right. She’s trouble.”
She rolled her eyes. That woman wouldn’t know true trouble if it landed at her feet. Clearly, she was an imbecile. Did she not know that the marquess was the worst sort of rake? Even she’d heard the tales, and she hadn’t been launched in society yet. Though, to be fair, Chris had done a little sleuthing to discover every little bit of information available about him. After that fateful meeting in the stables, she’d been determined to see him brought low…somehow. The bloody bastard didn’t even have the wherewithal to recognize her when he’d met them at Graystone’s estate.
“I did warn you.” He sighed. “It’s too bad she cannot stay here longer. I fear the ruin she’ll bring upon her family when she returns to the fold.”
Was he the reason she’d been exiled at the school this long? Originally, she’d been set to leave three months earlier. Something had changed though, and she’d been informed she’d remain under Miss Agatha’s care longer than planned.
“I’m afraid I have stalled as long as I can. Her sister is insisting she go home. I wish I could be of more assistance.”
“Don’t agonize over it,” he said in a smooth tone. The cur could be charming when he chose to be. Not that Chris had ever experienced it personally… “You’ve taught her all you can. The rest must be left to her, I’m afraid.”
Pain seized her heart as she listened to their conversation. She had known he didn’t like her, but she hadn’t realized his hatred had run that deep.
Chris had heard enough. She’d wondered why Miss Agatha had hated her. Now she had her answer. The blasted marquess had poisoned the headmistress against her. She’d wanted to make him pay for his actions against her before—well, now her efforts must be doubled. First, though, she was going to return home.
She turned away from them and headed toward the path that ran through the woods. Walking in the dark could be cumbersome, but there was no other choice. Not if she hoped to leave Miss Agatha’s school that night anyway.
It didn’t take her long to reach the forest nearby the school. She went to the path and followed it until she was deep inside. It would be hours before anyone noticed her missing. By then, she’d have reached the town and secured a seat in the mail carriage. It would take days to reach home, but she was determined. She didn’t need the comfort of the duke’s carriage. All she needed was a way to get there, and she could certainly find that on her own.
Chris kept moving through the woods until she heard the crack of a branch. She froze. Never once had she considered someone else might be in the forest. It could be an animal of some sort…
“Please be an animal,” she muttered under her breath. “A small one preferably…”
“No jist haud on,” a man said. His Scottish brogue was thick, and Chris could barely understand him. She cursed Graystone for sending her to the highlands. It had probably been the Marquess of Foxworth’s idea. The man began speaking again, “That fancy school isn’t fae from here. We hae tae wait fae a wee bit before we go inside.”
“Dae ye think the lass will put up a fight?” his friend asked.
“Depends on the lass,” the man said. “But I expect she’ll be tae feared tae dae much fighting. The sassenach lasses are nae strong.” He whistled. “Mon, no. We need tae be back at Tior by morning.”
What girl were they there for? There were a few Scottish girls at the school, but the majority of them were English. Where was Tior, and what was it? Chris had so many questions. She slid behind a tree to hide from them, but stepped on a branch. Chris held her breath hoping they wouldn’t hear it.
“Whit was that?”
Drat. She wasn’t in luck. Still, she slid farther behind the tree and prayed they’d think she was an animal as she’d hoped they were. Chris closed her eyes and took several slow, even breaths to still her rapidly beating heartbeat. I am not here…move along, strange Scottish men…
“Go and look,” the one man ordered.
Chris couldn’t see them, but one seemed to be in charge…older by the gruffness of his tone. His companion sounded much younger. Probably closer to her
