Free A Grand Deception by Shirley Marks

wiser to have your brother,
Freddie-"
    "No." Muriel didn't expect Sir Samuel to understand. "He
and Papa are thick as thieves and cannot be trusted. You are
the only one whom I can depend upon."
    It was clear Sir Samuel was not particularly pleased with
her-further proof he might as well have been her brother.
If not by blood, then she would claim their relation stemmed
from their mutually disagreeable opinions.
    For most of the hour during her session, Signore Biondi sat
behind his massive, ornately carved wooden desk. Muriel
would not have been surprised to discover it originated from
the time of the Italian Renaissance. He kept his head lowered, focused on a pad of paper before him. She might have
suspected he was ignoring her except for the few times he
raised his index finger and corrected her pronunciation.
    Muriel was then obliged to stop and repeat the phrase. A
rustle of movement coming from the doorway distracted
her.
    "Si, Giorgio, grazier" The Latin tutor glanced over his narrow, wire-rimmed glasses, acknowledging the intruder with
a nod.
    Muriel finished reading the last sentence aloud and then
faced her tutor.
    He did not look up but kept working a pencil. Had Signore
Biondi been taking notes? Had he been making so many comments on her errors today, it took him much longer to
finish writing them out?

    "Enough, Signorina. Well done." He set whatever he'd
been working on aside and removed his glasses. "We shall
continue next time we meet. I believe your young man has
arrived to see you home."
    "Thank you, Signore." Muriel closed her book and collected the papers before her. She stood and stepped out of
the room. Continuing down the short hallway toward the
front door where Sir Samuel waited, Muriel retrieved her
cloak and bonnet.
    "A successful session, I trust?" Sir Samuel greeted her.
    "Yes, very." Muriel pulled on her bonnet and tied the ribbons. "I thank you for returning for me."
    "I couldn't very well leave you to find your own way home."
He swung his beaver hat onto his head by the brim and
stood ready to depart at the doorway.
    They stepped outside the modest apartment, one in a row
of buildings, as it neared noon. Muriel needed to get home
and crawl back into bed.
    Sir Samuel took her hand to help her up the steps of his
carriage. He entered after her and sat on the opposite bench.
The steps were folded up, and the door closed behind them.
    The vehicle moved forward, and Muriel could not keep a
smile from touching her lips. "It was wonderful. I do not
know how I am ever to repay you."
    "You could forget this madness and be satisfied, as any
other young lady, to attend the endless round of parties," he
suggested without humor. "I'm quite certain that if you
could form an attachment, it would delight your family to no
end."
    "Oh, no. I cannot do that." Muriel pulled her satchel closer,
wrapping her arms around it tightly. Did Sir Samuel think he could change her mind? "Even you must own that I am
not any ordinary young lady."

    "I'm afraid you are correct, there." He pushed his hat to
the back of his head and sighed, making him appear quite
exasperated. "And I fear for Mrs. Parker and His Grace, for
they are involved in a battle they cannot win."
    "You make it sound as if I am a spoiled child who must
have her way."
    "Willful, impulsive, perhaps, but not spoiled," Sir Samuel
clarified. He cleared his throat. "I find you also inquisitive
and intelligent, which would not be considered a compliment
to any fashionable young lady. I should receive a resounding
scolding for speaking my mind, as should you."
    "How amusing you are-what was that?" Muriel spied
what she thought was a crumbling wall from the window.
"Stop the carriage! Stop, I say!"
    "What is it? Is something wrong?" Sir Samuel cried out
in alarm.
    The momentum of the coach began to slow, and Muriel
leaped out the door before the vehicle rolled to a complete
halt.
    "No, look! Isn't it beautiful?" She