A Brazen Maiden (#1 BRAZEN series-part of the GOLDEN universe) ✔

•T H R E E•

♪ And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand ♪
{Goo Goo Dolls—Iris}

Seventeen-ninety-seven didn't seem much better, nor would it bring more enlightening news.

All the days following the pivotal moment with Miss M. in the student's Study had been turbulent, troubling, terrible. The remaining months passed in a blur, yet each one haunted her sleep, perturbed her well-being, sliced into any bubble of tranquility she'd forged.

Yes, she retained her spot at the Academy. Yes, Miss M. had found her a sponsor. And the note she'd sent her father—subtle and polite—did the trick, because she never again heard anything about him owing money. Still, her days were long and exhausting and filled with cruel japes from her fellow students. Not that those were new—but they felt worse.

All the suffering only led her to the same place all her bad luck had commenced—in Sir Knowles' pear-colored office, in his uncomfortable seats, under his uncomfortable scrutiny. The new term—her Senior year—had started two weeks prior, but she arrived today... late.

She'd spent December roaming around the Limesdale Manor, doing her best not to overhear her father's meetings in hushed tones in his Study. Trying her hardest not to bump into his private staff that handled the shady operations he supervised as a renowned Vidame.

"Sir Knowles, I... I beg your pardon. Father had no carriages to spare for my travels, not until yesterday. And I am sure it is not a real excuse, but—" She bit her lower lip and glanced at her trembling hands in her lap. She cringed at her maroon skirts, worn and stained and beneath someone of her standing. In a rush, she'd had little chance to pack, and only the governess, Mrs Banks, offered her aid.

"Miss Thatcher," started Sir Knowles, his tone neutral, harder to decipher than normal. He steepled his hands and sat straight in his chair, squinting at her shriveling figure. "Your father... we cannot forgive him, but we forgive you. All is well, and that is not why I summoned you here today."

Forgive me?

She whipped her gaze up to meet his. "How... how so, Sir? I am late, I sent no word ahead of me, I am far from presentable and shivering and an utter mess, I—"

"—Harriet." Sir Knowles reached across his desk, tapping his fingertips on the surface to pull her from her raving. "I understand last year was... difficult for you. You struggled, caught up in a bit of scandal due to your father's appointment at court, and because of the girls, but... you persevered. You did not let your woes affect your grades. Your tutors claim you showed unparalleled progress. Which means you are more than deserving to receive a proper, ladylike education in this establishment. Yes, you are two weeks late, but I have no doubt you will catch up."

Heat swirled from her jawline to her temples. "So... so I did not lose my spot?"

Sir Knowles retracted his hand. "You are all set, Miss Thatcher. You have a sponsor, and your dues were handled. Welcome to your Senior year."