Jillian Chantal

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt luck. I finished my story I have been working on and will start something new next week. This is the last of this one to be shared here.

Check out the other tales here

Before he could voice the rest of what he intended to say, she said, “I owe you an apology.”

His heart sunk before he even knew what she was going to state next. “Why?”

“I have seen you around the school and town. I wrote to my mother that you were here and mentioned how odd it was.”

Dread rolled down his back like sweat on a hot day in July. That man he thought he recognized in the cafe had to be who he thought. It would be too coincidental if not. “And why does that warrant an apology?”

The music stopped. Henry released his partner and returned the gramophone. “All right, ladies, switch roles.”

Miss Billingsly joined him beside the gramophone. “I am sorry. My mother told others in Town where you are. I saw your father’s steward coming in the building on my way in here.”

Henry grabbed onto the table where the gramophone sat, his knuckles so tight they were white. He would surely be dragged home in shame. What a terrible thing to happen. And if he knew the steward—and he did—the man would barge right into this classroom and haul him out forcibly. Ah well. The nine young ladies would get a show to tell their friends about. And a firm laugh at his expense.

He could not go on with the lesson. He stopped the music and clapped his hands. “Miss Billingsly will lead you all for a few moments while I take a short break.”

“Have you got a tummy ache, Mr. Smythe?” Mary Ann asked.

“No. He has to go out and adjust himself from having held Miss Billingsly so close,” Cecily said with a wicked laugh.

“Cecily. Young ladies do not speak of such things.” Miss Billingsly appeared outraged.

Henry almost smiled at her discomfiture but he was in enough trouble himself that he could not.

“But they do, Miss Billingsly. I even wager you have done the same with your friends,” the scraggly-haired girl said.

Henry idly thought he should have at least tried to learn the girl’s name. Now it was too late. With his luck, he would be sent away in disgrace. He was surprised at how much that idea hurt.