The Master's Lessons

The Master’s Lessons

By
Isadora Rose

Copyright
2013 Isadora Rose

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I.

Lesson One

England,
1899

Amelia Montague
surveyed the neatly-cropped heads of hair before her, all lowered
in concentration as their owners applied themselves to the
translations she had set. Some people became teachers from a love
of learning, or from a true passion for the vocation. She came to
Highdown Hall because she had no other choice. With no family – and
thus no dowry – making a respectable marriage was out of her reach.
She had to earn a living by fair means or foul, and despite her
lack of experience she had somehow won the position of a junior
mistress at one of the most prestigious boarding schools in all of
England.

Fate had certainly smiled upon her when in desperation she
answered the notice the headmaster, James Cooper, had placed in
the
Times
calling
for new teachers to join his staff. She had fully expected he would
dismiss her in an instant, but here she was a year later secure in
her employment. Though far from content with her restrictive lot,
her life here was far better than it would have been had she been
forced to go into service.

Still, though,
Amelia could not help but allow her thoughts to wistfully turn to
the forbidden pleasures that tonight promised. The still classroom
offered little distraction, after all. The air was stale, and the
high windows allowed next to none of the late afternoon sunlight
into the room. As was the custom, even the walls themselves were
bare save for a half dozen maps that the geography masters used.
The French verbs and prepositions she had spent the afternoon
teaching were etched into the dusty blackboard, and the cursive
script of her own hand danced before her eyes as she shivered in
secret delight.

Finally, the
bell rang to herald the end of the school day, and with a dizzying
rush of relief she dismissed the class. Her cool and calm voice
gave no hint of the anticipation that blazed through her heated
veins, nor of the distinct throb of lust that already burned deep
down in her core at the thought of the night ahead.

When the last
of the youths pushed through the open door with a backward grin
directed at her, she smiled back at him and gathered her papers
before readying herself to follow in his wake and prepare herself
for all that was to come.

However, as
Amelia glanced up, to her deep frustration she found she was no
longer alone.

“Miss
Montague?”

The mathematics
master, Mr. Austin, had moved across to swiftly and skilfully block
her exit from the classroom.

Though her
heart thudded against her ribcage, she showed no outward sign of
how unwelcome the elderly teacher was. “What can I do for you,
sir?” she asked with a smile.

His lips
thinned. “The headmaster wants to see you, Miss Montague. He
requested that I escort you to him without delay.”

Despite her
best efforts to control herself, Amelia’s blue eyes widened. The
headmaster rarely fraternised with the staff, and she had never
been summoned to him before. She feared this unexpected summons
could have only one cause.

Resigned to the
inevitable, her stomach lurched even as her polite smile remained
in place. “Then we shall go to him, Mr. Austin. Is he waiting in
the office now?”

“No, not the
school office; his private study.”

The faint
wrinkling of the senior master’s nose told her precisely what he
thought of that, but at the school the headmaster’s word was law.
Austin was just as unable as she was to disobey, and so it was that
he turned sharply on his heel to lead her through the unseasonably
dark corridors of the school. Boys of all ages from ten to sixteen
lined their way, but each one of them dropped back in deference to
the two teachers despite the interested glances the older of them
tossed in her direction.

Impassive to
them and their implication as ever, for the only man she wanted was
not yet within the school’s confines, Amelia held her head high and
battled to calm the treacherous pounding of her heart as nerves
churned her stomach. Even passing through the intimidating double
oak doors of the entrance hallway offered no relief, for the
scorching heat of the early summer’s day only deepened the flush of
her face that the walk had brought on.

Cooper’s
private office was in the lower levels of the cottage that sat
apart from the main school building, nestled into the embrace of
the woods that Highdown Hall backed onto. As they made their way
towards it, she found herself consumed anew by fear of what she
would find within.

The headmaster
was feared by students and teachers alike. He had that rare talent
of commanding respect and obedience wherever he went, which was
surely part of the reason why he had risen to the prestigious
position of headmaster of Highdown Hall before he had even reached
his fortieth year. This was his third year in the post, and the
school had thrived under his command.

This afternoon,
though, his focus seemed to be on her – and the only reason Amelia
could attribute that to was the one she had feared would be
revealed ever since she had begun the dangerous dalliance. By the
time Austin raised his hand to knock smartly on the door to the
cottage, her heart was in her mouth, but turning back now was
impossible.

The door swung
open in an instant, forcing her to the grim conclusion that the
headmaster had been standing behind it awaiting her arrival.
Unwillingly she looked up, and there he was. James Cooper’s thin
lips drew back into a ghost of a smile beneath his moustache as his
grey eyes settled upon her.

“Thank you,
Samuel. You may leave Miss Montague in my hands now; I shall escort
her back up to the school when I am through with her.”

“Very good,
sir.”

And with that
Austin departed to leave her alone and defenceless, entirely at the
headmaster’s mercy. His smile widened as he crooked one finger to
beckon her inside.

“Come, Miss
Montague. Are you afraid that I shall bite?”

Amelia shivered
despite herself. The low Scottish burr of Cooper’s accent had
fascinated her ever since he personally conducted her interview for
the position she now held. In truth, the man himself intrigued her
against her will; it had been a blessing she had seen so little of
him over the past year. It seemed that today that blessing would be
no more.

As she stared
at him wordlessly, he had taken her arm to lead her inside and now
the door closed behind them with an unsettling and definitive click
of the lock in the catch. Afraid to look at him for fear of the
unmistakable fever that was spreading through her veins with his
touch, she forced her eyes to dart over the cottage’s entrance hall
instead. The ceilings were so low that the wooden beams threatened
to graze the top of Cooper’s head, and the dark green wallpaper
blended in seamlessly with the woods that surrounded them outside.
Through an open door to the right Amelia caught a glimpse of the
parlour room, filled with groaning bookshelves, a
velvet-upholstered settee and a high-backed armchair beside the
inglenook.

It was
surprisingly homely; enough so to disarm her and make her too slow
to realise that he had hold of her arm once more and was now
steering her into the small room at the rear of the property that
served as his study. Yet more textbooks lined the shelves on every
wall, but the vast mahogany desk in front of the window dominated
the room. A chair was on each side, and as Cooper took his with his
back to the window, he gestured at the other.

“Take a
seat.”

His command was
impossible to defy. Her mouth was dry and her head spinning, but
all that was nothing in comparison to the treacherous and unwanted
rush of warmth between her legs when a hint of his musky cologne
drifted towards her. Gritting her teeth, she tried to force it
aside, but then he spoke again and made that task impossible.

“So, you are
nearly at the end of your first full academic year with us, Miss
Montague.”

Amelia had no
choice now but to look up at the headmaster once more. Though he
was twenty years her senior, she could no longer deny to herself
now they were alone the attraction she felt for him. The first
faint whispers of grey crept around his temple, but they did
nothing to lessen the impact of his classical looks; a jaw so
strong it seemed chiselled from stone, and a crooked nose full of
character. It was his steely eyes that were most captivating,
though, framed by a pair of dark brows that seemed to speak even
more eloquently than all his intelligent words.

Tall and lean, in that moment he reminded her of nothing more
than a wolf. If he
was
the wolf, then this was his lair – and she was trapped within
it. It was an unsettling thought.

Cooper smiled
as he met her wide-eyed and unnerved gaze without blinking. “Have
you nothing to say, Miss Montague? The reports of your classes do
not make you out to be mute, I have to say; there have been
dazzling reports of your loquacious repertoire and your mastery of
both English and French. I confess myself no little surprised that
you are so silent now.”

Amelia could
barely even breathe under the weight of the fearful anticipation
she felt, let alone speak with the cool wit she was used to being
in possession of. She opened her mouth in a desperate attempt to
answer him, but before she could form any words with her dry mouth
he rose to his feet again and came around the desk to stand behind
her chair.

“Sir -” she
said wildly, but then the headmaster’s hand descended to rest upon
her shoulder as she twisted her head to look up at him. Dazed by
the force of her conflicted emotions, a violent shiver ran down her
spine and he smiled again.

“Hush, now. If
you have no words, then perhaps it would suit you to listen to me
instead – for that is, after all, why I summoned you here
today.”

He reached out
to tuck a stray tendril of fair hair back behind her ear, and her
heart lost a beat. His smile only widened as he leaned in closer
still, so near now that the tantalising sensation of his warm
breath on the vulnerable skin of her bared neck consumed her.

Amelia tried
and failed one last time to pull away from him. The headmaster’s
hand tightened around her shoulder, and with a sharp intake of
breath his smile slipped away as he pressed his mouth against the
top of her ear and breathed a dozen words that stole away the very
last of her composure.

“Now, I hear
tell that you have been rather wicked, Miss Montague.”

Cooper
knew
.

With a
strangled cry, she shook her head in desperation, but her efforts
to escape only brought her parted lips within reach of his. For a
dizzying moment she thought they would lay claim to hers, but then
he forcibly pushed her away and straightened back up again.

“Nothing to
say?” he said, his voice dangerously low and clipped. “Do you care
to deny my accusation that you have been entertaining a gentleman
caller, perhaps?”

To her chagrin
and frustration, hot tears stung at her eyes as she battled the
unwelcome compulsion to arch towards him. “Would it be of any use
to do so, sir?”

He snorted.
“None at all, Miss Montague. I have eyes everywhere, particularly
when it comes to you. I saw the two of you together last Friday –
and the intimate way in which you were permitting the rogue to
touch you made the carnal nature of his visit all too plain.”

Cooper reached
up to his right, and to her horror his long fingers closed around
the handle of the riding crop that had until now been resting
harmlessly on one of the highest bookshelves. As Amelia fought for
breath, he took it down and then turned to fix his penetrating
stare upon her once more.

“We have
standards here at Highdown Hall, and those who fail to meet them
must be punished. Tell me, Miss Montague, what happens to the boys
if they misbehave?”

The headmaster
circled restlessly around her and absently stroked the leather
handle of the crop as she buried her flaming face in her hands to
conceal a low sob from him. She did not want him to know how afraid
she was – nor how very much she found herself wanting him to follow
through upon all the fire in his eyes threatened.