Free Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage] by What to Wear to a Seduction

things going on around him. Still, he wondered.
    There was only one way to know for certain. And, he had to admit, he was eager to explore the issue further to find out. Even if it turned out to be a disappointment, the distraction from losing Cat would, by itself, be worth it.
    “Ah, Prescott…” Dr. Winner scratched his ear, obviously trying to broach a topic that bothered him.
    Prescott hid his smile; he’d been waiting for the good doctor to ask what had happened with Edwina yesterday and if Prescott was going to help her. The man was as curious as a cat, Headmaster Dunn used to say. Lord how Prescott missed the bossy old gent.
    “I still can’t quite believe that our sweet Catherine is a nobleman’s daughter,” Dr. Winner began. “And Jared…well, he’s a baron, for heaven’s sake!”
    Wishing that Dr. Winner had asked about Edwina instead, Prescott turned and moved to stare blindly out the window. The subject of Cat was too raw, too painful and too damn private to discuss with anyone, even Dr. Winner.
    Dr. Winner continued mercilessly on, “I’d always known there was more to our Catherine than met the eye.”
    Many of the staff at Andersen Hall had been speaking along those very same lines. That they’d suspected the truth. But only Headmaster Dunn had known. And he’d kept the secret from everyone. As had Catherine. If it hadn’t all come to light with the recent Caddyhorn theft, would she ever have told him? Scowling, he wondered when she’d told her new husband.
    Prescott’s shoulders were corded with tension as the anger boiled inside of him. Staring at the green leaves shimmering on the wind, Prescott schooled his heart to calm, his breath to even. He needed to rein in his temper; it seemed to flare up these days as if it had a will of its own. He’d wrestled with his anger when he was young and had believed that he’d had it conquered. Now it seemed to be on the advance once more, and a more powerful adversary than ever.
    Shouts and squeals could be heard through the glass. They were happy sounds, sounds of childhood, where impulse and glee reigned. Stepping closer to the window, he looked left toward the garden. The children were playing “wage-war” in the green grass. It had been his favorite pastime when he’d first come to Andersen Hall. The battles were a great avenue for screaming, running about and thumping the other lads. A perfect pastime for an angry little monster like him. He’d won a lot and had relished every victory.
    Cat hadn’t played much, he recalled. She’d been so timid, so afraid of letting the troops down. She’d always assumed responsibility for everyone else. It was one of the reasons Prescott had always loved her.
    Well, not always. It was near his fourteenth year, he recalled, that he’d started to notice how she’d leave an extra seat for him if he was late to the dining hall. She wouldn’t say a thing, yet the space would be there, and he the only one missing. He was usually taking one punishment or another. Lord, what a monstrous scamp he’d been.
    It was Cat who would look the other way when he was up to his mischievous tricks. It was almost as if she somehow forgave him in advance for his misdeeds. So he’d tested her. Again and again subjecting her to his most devilish pranks. She would be furious, but there was a softness to her mien, a wounded sigh, as if he was simply being himself and couldn’t help it.
    Headmaster Dunn had seen it all and had finally pulled Prescott aside, and asked, “Do you want Catherine to hate you?”
    “N-no,” he’d sputtered. “O’ course not.”
    “Then do you wish her to be your friend?”
    “Yah…”
    “Yes is the appropriate response,” Headmaster Dunn had chided. “What is one of the things you admire most about Catherine?”
    Put on the spot, Prescott had blurted out the first thing to come into his head. “She speaks fancy.”
    So Headmaster Dunn had asked Cat to help Prescott with his elocution.