She knew she wouldn't let the harebrained Heatherstone twins near any of her girls. She was not being paid, and handsomely at that, to let the darling daughters of society mingle with basket-scramblers, her brother excluded, of course, being in the clergy. What Miss Merrihew did not know about the Heatherstone brothers was if they had a sister or a cousin they wished to enroll in her academy, so she agreed to see them, despite the day's perturbation. There was nothing more she could do about the Lockharte female anyway. Miss Merrihew had already put a flea in Jonas's ear and had even written to notify the school's patron, Lord Vance. Let him take responsibility for a change. She shooed away the moonstruck maid who brought twin calling cards and frowned a herd of hovering students into retreating up the stairs, before she opened the door to the “good” parlor, the one the students never saw except on visiting days. Two equine-odored gentlemen sprang to their feet, leaving muddy footprints on her Turkish carpet.
