last term. A corny phrase perhaps, but it was true—they got on like a house on fire in matters of science, politics, history, favourite places they’d visited, even adventure literature, though he was a devout reader of Verne, while she preferred Rider Haggard. And the more time they’d spent together after class, or in his office during lunch hour, swapping books, chatting away at everything and nothing, the greedier she’d become for his company.
No, tarrying with him in the blizzard had definitely not been over-dramatic; she would have gladly sprained her ankle for real for that privilege.
But would he...could he ever consent to taking their friendship further? Beyond South Hampshire Grammar? Next semester, when he left for his new situation in the tower, they would be unbound from any teacher-pupil taboo but, when all was said and done, she would be seventeen and he twenty-one. Not an impossible age gap by any means, but how would his moneyed family react—not to mention Father and Aunt Lily, still refinding their footing in society—to such an unlikely pairing? And she was hardly Merry, a swan the boys flocked to whenever she spread her wings. No, Sonja was not feminine in that way. Not yet. Grace eluded her, as did obedience to fashions and social mores. But perhaps next season...with Lady Catarina’s instruction...
“Now you run on back to your carriage. I’ll deal with McEwan. Here, these will help keep you and your friends warm until Mrs. Challender can see to you.” Mr. Auric handed Dorcas a couple of spare blankets, then joined Sonja in the empty carriage.
Like the segments of a brass caterpillar, each steamcoach pulled a train of three spherical carriages. They each had large iron wheels with spring suspension for uneven terrain, and were coupled together by rigid iron knuckles. With both coaches stranded, the girls would have to share four carriages, with two left for the supplies and the two engine cabins for the staff. But the girls had packed themselves into three carriages instead of four, probably to console each other and keep warm, leaving one free. Sonja’s heart squirreled when Mr. Auric climbed in to share the empty carriage with her.
“What will the others say?” She adopted her plummiest tone.
“About what, pray?” Not obtuse, more evasive; he planted himself on the seat opposite her and avoided eye contact while he rubbed his gloved hands together and peered through a clear streak he’d made on the misting window. “I really did underestimate the chill. You are tolerably warm, McEwan?”
“As toast, sir. But I’ve resolved to visit the warmest place on earth for my next holiday—the northern hemisphere rather seems to have it in for me.”
He chuckled behind his vigorous glove-rubbing. “Where did you have in mind?” Sonja shrugged. “Oh, come now, give it your best shot,” he egged her on. “Remember my lecture on mind over matter, the physiological evidence?”
Of course she did, or rather she recalled his delivery of it: loose and playful, for the first time really starting to engage the class, much to the chagrin of Dr. Gavin, their senior biology teacher who also happened to be a bald, creepy mesmerist every pupil in the school was scared stiff of. It was also the day she’d tripped into Mr. Auric, purposefully of course, and gasped as he’d caught her, hands on waist, lips almost touching, and spoken her first name: “Sonja...I mean McEwan, easy does it now.”
“How could I forget?” She smiled and coyly looked away when their glances met. “Oh very well, here’s my psychosomatic remedy for our little igloo ignominy: first...” His deep laugh only sweetened her exuberance, “... a week’s frolicking on a Bermudan beach, parasols and modesty optional, followed by the clearest, bluest, most fish-full snorkel swim in the Caribbean, probably off St. Lucia or Barbados.” Heavens, if her remedy was working on him as potently as it was her—and given the way his gaze discreetly poured over her body, perhaps conjuring her supple roundnesses beneath the winter wear, it appeared to be—Derek Auric would indeed have a distinct carnal inclination for her person right now. “And finally, a jungle trek to a paradise lagoon and waterfall where people wear scandalously little for—”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that was most vivid, McEwan. I think that’s enough thawing for now.”
Sonja groaned, but did he even realise how suggestive his quip was? He’d never made any kind of advance upon her, and rightly not, for he was a gentleman and would never abuse