The Sweetest Dark Read Online Free PDF Page B

platinum.
    I realized then that I felt queasy. The light was too slick, the scent of the lilies nearly overwhelming. I swayed a bit on my feet and dug my fingers deeper into the straw of my hat.
    It’s all a mistake, I thought. She’ll look up, she’ll look at me and tell me it’s all been a mistake, I’m too peculiar, I’m not wanted here after all. I’ll have to find my way back to the station. I’ll have to speak to Jesse again and hear that music, and what if he touches me—
    The woman’s head lifted. She was older than the absolute black of her hair had suggested. Her features were finely lined; the corners of her lips had wrinkled into puckers.
    â€œMiss Jones. You are quite late.”
    â€œI beg your pardon,” I replied automatically, although a spot of resentment began a sudden burn in my chest, dispelling some of the nausea. What was I supposed to have done? Pushed at the train with my bare hands to force it faster?
    Perhaps she noticed my instant of rebellion. Perhaps not. Her eyes seemed to narrow, but it might have been merely the poor light.
    â€œYou may be seated.”
    I moved to the wing chair nearest me, sinking like a child deep into the leather.
    â€œI am Mrs. Westcliffe, the headmistress of Iverson.”
    I tried to inch up higher in the chair. “How do you do?”
    â€œHow do you do. I’d like to commence our relationship by speaking with you plainly. I trust you won’t mind. You’re a rather different sort of student than we typically host here at the school. Your records indicate that you are not without intelligence, so you will perceive this fact for yourself soon enough. I have no wish to alarm you or to shame you, but, apart from the servants, you will not find a peer here at Iverson.”
    I thought of the divine Chloe and her less-than-divine laughter.
    â€œOh,” I said, sinking back again.
    â€œThe Iverson School for Girls attracts young women from the most elite families across the empire. We are considered the foremost educational opportunity for such young women, and hence it is imperative our reputation remains unsullied. I want to assure you that I will personally do whatever I must to protect my students and this school from any hint of impropriety.”
    She paused, gazing at me. It was pretty clear where she thought any hints of impropriety would be coming from.
    â€œI understand,” I said.
    â€œWe are also fortunate enough to enjoy the patronage of the Duke of Idylling himself, whose own social connections are, of course, unimpeachable.”
    â€œOf course.”
    Mrs. Westcliffe shot me an abruptly beady look. “It is due to the duke that you are here before me now. His allowance for the castle and its grounds includes the proviso that, for any given semester, at least one scholarship student must be in attendance, preferably one from out of the area so as to lessen tensions amongst the locals. Whatever my misgivings about your previous circumstances, I find myself perfectly in accord with the duke’s wishes. Honest charity is never to be frowned upon, nor are intentions of the purest nature.”
    She paused again, waiting, so I added another, “Of course.”
    It seemed to mollify her; the beady look softened. “Your classes will be identical to those of every other pupil in your year. In this respect, at least, you will be equal. What you learn here will be up to you, Miss Jones. But I will add frankly that graduation and a magnanimous letter of recommendation from this school will place you at the top of any governess list in proper British society, and with good reason.”
    â€œThank you,” I said, because I was not without intelligence, and by then I’d learned my cue.
    Mrs. Westcliffe inclined her head, a gracious queen in her gilded realm.
    Governess. I wanted to sigh out loud, but it was an enormous boon, I knew. Most girls from Blisshaven went straight