“It is spectacular,” he admitted. “But it isn’t home.”
“Oh, but think how heavenly it would be,” she continued, “to be on the water and not be violently ill.”
He chuckled despite himself. “You are prone to seasickness, then?”
“Dreadfully so.”
“I never get seasick,” Frances said.
“You’ve never been on the water,” Miss Wynter pointed out pertly.
“Ergo, I never get seasick,” Frances replied triumphantly. “Or perhaps I should say that I have never been seasick.”
“It would certainly be more precise.”
“You are such a governess,” Daniel said affectionately.
But her face took on a queer expression, as if perhaps she hadn’t wanted to be reminded of this fact. It was a clear sign to change the subject, so he said, “I cannot even remember how we came to be discussing the Tyrrhenian Sea. I was—”
“It was because I was asking about Italy,” Frances put in helpfully.
“—going to say,” he said smoothly, since of course he’d known exactly how they’d come to be discussing the Tyrrhenian Sea, “that I am very much looking forward to joining you for your lesson en plein air.”
“That means out of doors,” Frances said to Miss Wynter.
“I know,” she murmured.
“I know you know,” Frances replied. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that I knew.”
Elizabeth arrived then, and while Frances was ascertaining whether she knew the translation for en plein air, Daniel turned to Miss Wynter and said, “I trust I will not intrude this afternoon if I accompany you for lessons.”
He knew very well that she could not possibly say anything other than “Of course not.” （Which was precisely what she did say.） But it seemed as good a sentence as any to begin a conversation. He waited until she was through eating her eggs, then added, “I would be happy to assist in any way.”
She touched her serviette delicately to her mouth, then said, “I am sure the girls would find it far more gratifying if you took part in the lessons.”
“And you?” He smiled warmly.
“I would find it gratifying as well.” Said with a hint of mischief.
“Then that is what I shall do,” he replied grandly. Then he frowned. “You do not plan any dissection this afternoon, I trust?”
“We perform only vivisection in my classroom,” she said, with a remarkably straight face.
He laughed, loudly enough that Elizabeth, Frances, and Harriet, who had also come down, turned in his direction. It was remarkable, because the three of them really did not resemble each other overmuch, but in that moment, with their faces molded into the exact same expressions of curiosity, they looked identical.
“Lord Winstead was inquiring about our lesson plan for the day,” Miss Wynter explained.
There was a silence. Then they must have decided that a further pursuance lacked excitement, and they turned as one back to their food.
“What are we studying this afternoon?” Daniel asked.
“This afternoon?” Miss Wynter echoed. “I expect full attendance at half ten.”
“This morning, then,” he amended, duly chastened.
“Geography first—not the Isle of Man,” she said loudly, when three young heads swiveled angrily in her direction. “Then some arithmetic, and finally we shall focus on literature.”
“My favorite!” Harriet said enthusiastically, taking the seat next to Frances.
“I know,” Miss Wynter replied, giving her an indulgent smile. “It is why we are saving it for last. It’s the only way I can guarantee holding your attention through the entire day.”
Harriet smiled sheepishly, then brightened quite suddenly. “May we read from one of my works?”
“You know that we are studying Shakespeare’s histories,” Miss Wynter said apologetically, “and—” She stopped short. Quite short.
“And what?” Frances asked.
Miss Wynter regarded Harriet. Then she regarded Daniel. And then, as he began to feel rather like a lamb to slaughter, she turned back to Harriet and asked, “Did you bring your plays with you?”
“Of course. I never go anywhere without them.”
“You never know when you might have the opportunity to have one staged?” Elizabeth said, somewhat meanly.
“Well, there is that,” Harriet replied, ignoring her sister’s dig or （and Daniel thought this was more likely） simply not noticing it. “But the big fear,” she continued, “is fire.”