Seductive Deception

Chapter 12

"I'm sorry, Mr. Whittington, but we haven't a record for a Lady Allegra Warren in the past ten years."

Morgan wasn't the type to correct the woman; he wouldn't have dreamt of it, but Strickland scoffed and, with his infamous blond brow raised, declared—"It's Lord Whittington."

Tess kicked him inconspicuously with her boot, staring and smiling at the woman, her eyes never leaving her face.

All this nonsense was wearing on Morgan already. He found that most things in the peerage were bizarre, frivolous, or eccentric. Case in point, the mad woman who barged into his office during his inaugural ball, ladies who needed a chaperone wherever they went, the idea of morning calls—not occurring at all during the morning, the list droned on.

The mousy woman with plump cheeks and bulbous nose nodded.

"Apologies, My Lord," she said, her voice matching her appearance in frailty and submissiveness.

"Please," he patted the woman's hand, "no apologies necessary. Do you know anyone who may have remembered her being here?"

She shook her head at first but stared at the ceiling, lost in memory. "Perhaps Miss Higginbotham, she's been with us as a teacher for the past twenty years, but she's in the middle of a lesson. You're welcome to stay and meet with her when she takes a break if you'd like."

With no other leads, this may be his best shot at finding Allegra. They loitered in the entryway for a few minutes before being offered tea in the parlor.

The whole school building smelled of lye and chalk, except for the parlor, which smelled strongly of soured milk. At one point, Strickland attempted to pry open the window when he was interrupted by the sharp rapping sound of footsteps on wooden floors.

When Miss Higginbotham finally arrived, Morgan knew she was the head teacher. With a face that looked like she'd sucked on a lemon and a pile of graying brown hair in a tight bun, she cut a matronly figure destined to haunt children's imaginations for decades after they left these doors.

"Miss Higginbotham," Morgan said with reverence, hoping to win over the sour-faced teacher, but her expression didn't budge. They all stood and went to greet her by the door.

"Lord Whittington, what may we do for you?"

"I am seeking records on your past student, a lady named Allegra Warren. And your lovely assistant Miss Brown has advised us you may have memory of her attending, as no records of her seem to exist."

"I don't recall the name. When would she have attended?"

"Around twelve and thirteen years ago, perhaps 1844 or 1845."

"That's a fair amount of time, Lord Whittington," she said, studying Tess and Strickland as if they were two beetles who'd somehow managed to scurry in with the students.

"Apologies, Miss Higginbotham; I'd like to introduce you to my companions. Lord Strickland," Strickland tipped his head, "and my cousin Lady Contessa Clayton." Tess curtsied politely.

She eyed them both without bothering to address them and glared back at Morgan.

"If no formal records are available, then I have nothing to offer you."

Morgan opened his mouth but thought better of it, and instead, he clapped his lips together and gave her a firm nod, grabbing his hat from the hat rack beside the door. "Thank you for your time."

As he led Strickland and Tess back toward the front door, Strickland mumbled— "What a waste of time."

"I am feeling increasingly bad about any of the children who have to spend even a minute of their time with that vile woman," Tess added, seconding Morgan's thoughts.