It took Collin half a moment to realize this was the same woman who had quickly humbled him with her intelligence and candor. In her current state, she was anything but confident and challenging. Only a few seconds had passed as Collin made this connection, confusion on his face just as she glanced up to meet his regard.
“Oh.” She halted, then as if feeling the need to explain herself, she added, “There was a parchment I needed to include that somehow was left behind.”
“By all means.” He bowed and stepped aside for her.
“Thank you.” Her back stiffened as if she was no longer trying to blend into the wallpaper as she continued down the hall.
He should have gone on his way.
He should have kept his mouth shut.
But something burned in him that was stronger than good sense.
Curiosity.
So, with a quick turn on his heel, he posed the question that he regretted the moment it slipped from his lips.
“Why?”
As she turned and studied him, he realized that one small three-letter word was exactly the same reason there were full libraries.
Why, indeed.
Four
In order to seek truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things.
—René Descartes, Principles of Philosophy
Elizabeth regarded the gentleman before her. Why was such an ambiguous word. Still, she felt quite certain she understood the context behind his query.
“Pardon, my lord?” she asked, part of her hoping he’d retract his question and go on his way, and the other half hoping he’d stand by it and be brave enough to ask. Still, with that courage usually came the next step: judgment and sentencing. As if all the men in her acquaintance, save her father, were the magistrates of her life. Good Lord, it got tedious.
Which was another reason to blend in. For some reason, he still saw her, acknowledged her, though she was trying to be easily disregarded.
Blast the man.
“I asked, why?” He shrugged, as if the question wasn’t weighted down with the condemnation of higher education for her sex.
“I did hear the question the first time. I was merely requesting clarification. It’s a rather broad inquiry,” she replied, feeling the steel in her blood rise to the challenge. Make him say it, not imply anything. If he were to judge her, let it be directly. A frontal assault, no flanking the subject.
He glanced heavenward as if she were taxing him.
Good mercy, he was aggravating, and she’d only just met the man! How was it possible to dislike a person deeply on so short a connection?
“Why do you wish to be part of a community that wants to pretend you don’t exist within its walls?” he asked, quite succinctly, if she were giving him credit.
Which she was not.
At least not currently.
“Ah. Well, for many reasons. However, to give an efficient answer to your question, I’ll summarize.” She tilted her head, awaiting his response.
“Pray, continue.”
Elizabeth gave a half smile, then schooled her expression. Pretending she was explaining something to one of her students, she answered. “One, because I enjoy learning, and this is the ideal place for it. Two, because I wish to be with my father, and three, because I can.”
Lord Penderdale nodded, his dark brows drawing together somewhat as if considering her question. “All noble reasons, minus the third.”
“In what way?” Elizabeth asked, her spine stiffening at his implication.
He gave her a patronizing expression, one that set her blood to boiling. “Come now, Miss Essex. You’re clearly an intelligent woman. Your third reason is purely selfish. You care not for how your presence impacts others, or if it makes them uncomfortable. It’s for your own enrichment, and let’s be further honest… That enrichment is noble but at the same time will not lead to the same end as it would if you were a man.”
Elizabeth froze, her heart hammering in her ears as she replayed the words. It wasn’t as if she’d never heard them before, except they hit fresh today. “Pardon?”
She couldn’t very well tell him that she taught others, shared her knowledge, poured herself out for the women who couldn’t attend university but wanted more than their governesses and tutors could give. He’d flatly stated her education was useless since she was of the fairer sex.
He didn’t know her at all. However, she couldn’t divulge any information about what she did to enrich those ladies’ lives, since her father didn’t know. So, she was stuck with his judgment, just as she’d expected, without the ability to justify her actions or defend herself.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” he continued with a quirk of his lips. “I’m merely saying you deceive yourself if you believe all your ambitions are noble. But then, my opinion matters little to you.”
“Very little,” she couldn’t resist adding.
He barked a laugh, his smile wide and unguarded. The force of it was stunning, and she gathered her wits to collect herself. Drat the man for being both beautiful and a pain in the neck.
“Be that as it may, I hold no ill will toward you for it. Just thought it…interesting. Good day, Miss Essex.” He tipped his hat, bowed, and departed, leaving her in a muddle of her own annoyed attraction and irritation. She watched his back retreat, ignoring the fine figure he cut in the greatcoat as he disappeared through the door in a halo of light.
Light. She snorted to herself. The devil himself could appear as an angel of light, and clearly men could as well.
Her fingers tingled with the frustration of the conversation, its words opening an old wound, one she wished would heal but that nevertheless stubbornly remained. With a straightening of her shoulders, she returned to her father’s office. “Papa, this was left behind…” She placed the parchment on the desk and hesitated as he studied her. “Yes?”
“I’m proud of you. You stood up for yourself.” He nodded once, removed his spectacles, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I think…I’ve gotten used to it. And I shouldn’t have but seeing you today…unafraid as you rose to the challenge a peer of the realm laid before you with rhetoric, I realized my error.”
Elizabeth frowned. “What error, Papa? If anything, you’ve allowed me license that other women can only dream about, and for that I’m deeply thankful.”
He waved her off. “No, that too often you try to be invisible, and you, my dear, were meant to be seen…and heard. I’m sorry that I can’t give that to you, in this place.” He took a deep breath. “But selfishly, I am glad you do it, so that you may remain for at least a little while longer. You’re a far better researcher than any other students.” He gave a soft chuckle.
“Papa?” Elizabeth questioned, taking a small step toward the desk. “What do you mean, a little while longer?”
Her father’s expression furrowed. “Surely you understand.” His tone took on professorial phrasing as he regarded her. “You are of age, and soon, likely very soon, you’ll need more than these dusty books and halls in your life. You need more than your bees. You’ll want a family, won’t you? You’re not going to find one here, or perhaps you will, but that would be a scandal all its own, which I know you wish to avoid.” He sighed. “Life happens in seasons, my dear, and you’re in a shifting. Surely I’m only telling you what you already know.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand, paused, and regarded her as if questioning if she truly did understand.