Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno)

by Sylvain Reynard

  “I heard the news, of course. The administration is touting Gabriel as one of its most important alumni. Congratulations on the Sage Lectureship.” Cecilia’s tone didn’t match her words.

  “Thank you. He’s very excited.”

  “I saw his topic for the lectures.” The edges of Cecilia’s mouth turned down. “It’s interesting but too romantic. Also, metalevel readings of Dante are very common. I expected more, much more.”

  Julia was stunned. Cecilia and Gabriel had always been on friendly terms. Her criticism stung.

  Oblivious to her student’s reaction, Cecilia continued. “So you and Gabriel will be commuting next year while he’s in Edinburgh.”

  “No,” Julia almost stuttered. “Well, that’s what I wanted to ask you about. I—”

  “You can’t take another leave of absence,” Cecilia interrupted, switching to Italian. “Not after your maternity leave. You need to take courses next fall and put together your dissertation proposal.”

  Julia’s gaze dropped to her boots, wondering what she had done to offend Cecilia. They’d had a warm exchange by telephone when Julia explained she was taking a maternity leave. And they’d traded equally amiable emails about Professor Wodehouse’s workshop.

  Julia’s heart rate increased as she contemplated how she could smooth things over with her supervisor.

  “I’ve already begun working through the reading list you gave me for my dissertation proposal,” she volunteered.

  “You should also work through the reading list for Don Wodehouse’s workshop. I’ll send it to you.”

  “Thank you.” Julia brightened. “I saw Professor Wodehouse in Edinburgh. His student, Graham Todd, teaches there.”

  “I know Graham.” Cecilia’s frown relaxed. “And it’s good for you to get to know Don. It’s important you show everyone you’re serious about your studies and that you aren’t simply recycling Katherine Picton’s ideas. Or your husband’s.”

  Julia almost choked. “Cecilia, have I done something wrong?”

  “Actually, you’ve done something right. You offered a new perspective on the case of Guido da Montefeltro at the Oxford conference last year, rather than relying on the work of Katherine or Gabriel. That’s why Wodehouse noticed you. But sometimes, doing excellent work isn’t enough.” Cecilia sounded bitter.

  “You have to be focused. You have to be disciplined. You’re on a fellowship in this department, which we awarded to another student while you were on leave. Now you want another leave of absence so you can go to Edinburgh? I’m sorry, but I can’t support that.”

  Julia began wringing her hands. “What if I don’t take a leave of absence, but just enroll at Edinburgh for the fall semester? Graham Todd introduced me to some of the members of his department. I can find out what they’re teaching and provide you with the course descriptions to assess if the credits can transfer.”

  Cecilia bristled. “Edinburgh is not the same as Harvard.”

  She pointed in the direction of the office of Greg Matthews, the chair of her department. “I doubt Greg would approve of you taking your final classes at Edinburgh.”

  Julia leaned forward. “Cecilia, please. Could I just find out what the courses are and show them to you?”

  Cecilia measured her for a moment. “I make no promises.

  “Did you know the dean called Greg at home on the day the Sage Lectures were announced, wondering why no one from this department has been a Sage Lecturer in the past fifteen years?”

  Julia faltered. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” Cecilia’s lips twisted derisively. “Gabriel is an alumnus of this department and so the dean and the chair can claim him. Greg told me Gabriel applied for the endowed chair that Harvard gave me. Now the dean thinks Greg made a mistake.

  “I earned this position.” Cecilia’s tone grew harsh. “I’m further along in my career than Gabriel and I have more publications. Now Greg is bringing Katherine into the department. Why?”

  Julia took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

  “I earned my endowed chair. I left Oxford to come here. But that doesn’t count for the dean. He insists his faculty must win every award. He says Boston University is embarrassing him.”

  Julia’s eyes strayed to the office door, which was partially open. This conversation had not gone as planned. Not at all.

  Cecilia dropped her voice. “You are on maternity leave and you must return in the fall. How do you think it will look if the top student, my student, left for Edinburgh? At the same time I am passed over for the Sage Lectures, at the same time Katherine is invited to join my department? No. You must finish your coursework here.”

  Julia felt something like despair settle in her stomach. She nodded, worried that if she opened her mouth, she’d burst into tears.

  Cecilia put her glasses on again. “Katherine is in her seventies. She may choose to retire at any moment. And your life is entwined with hers enough, since she is godmother to your child. If I decide to drop you as a student . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Time seemed to slow. Julia’s chest felt constricted as she tried to draw breath. She sat quietly, wondering if she’d heard what she thought she’d heard.

  In the space of a few sentences, Cecilia had dropped the equivalent of a(n academic) hydrogen bomb. Although she wasn’t stating for certain that she would drop Julia as a student, she was threatening to. Losing a graduate supervisor in the middle of a program would have devastating consequences for any student, especially if there were no assurances she could find another supervisor.

  Cecilia stood. “So, you should continue reading in preparation for your dissertation proposal. And I will send you the reading list for Don Wodehouse’s workshop.”

  Julia bobbed her head and meekly thanked her supervisor before escaping into the hall.

  She walked swiftly in the direction of the nearest ladies’ room and was able to make it into a stall without anyone seeing her tears.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gabriel saw Julianne from a distance, walking across the Harvard campus.

  He’d parked the car after dropping her off and had placed Clare in a baby carrier/over-the-shoulder contraption that had a fancy Swedish name.

  He thought it made him look like a kangaroo. (Which was, perhaps, why he attracted so much female attention from passersby, many of whom stopped to say hello to the baby and to gaze somewhat dreamily at her attentive father.)

  When Julia saw him, she sped up.

  “Let’s go.” She grabbed his hand, greeted Clare, and then commenced dragging him along the footpath.

  Gabriel planted his feet. “What’s the matter?”

  “We’ll talk in the car.” She tried in vain to move him along.

  “The car is over there.” He jerked his thumb in the opposite direction. “What’s the matter? What’s going on?”

  “Please,” Julia begged, eyes filling with tears.

  Gabriel could not refuse. He put his arm over her shoulder and directed her toward the car. “Tell me what happened.”

  Julia looked around nervously. “Cecilia said no.”

  Gabriel’s head swiveled in Julia’s direction. “What?”

  “Cecilia said that if I want to work with her, I need to be here next fall.”

  Again, Gabriel planted his feet. “She threatened you?”

  Julia swiped under her eyes. “Not in so many words. She said she’d read the Edinburgh schedule, but that it would look bad for her to send her top student there, especially with Katherine coming into the department.”

  Gabriel cast a murderous look at the building in which Cecilia’s office was located. His feet began moving. “I’ll speak to her.”

  “No!” Julia tugged on his arm. “I don’t want to make a scene. Let’s talk in the car.”

  “
I’ll call Greg Matthews. That will put an end to it.” Gabriel lifted his chin, his blue eyes sparking.

  “If you do that, she’ll drop me.” Julia’s voice was just above a whisper.

  Gabriel regarded her. Then he looked at the building.

  He cursed. “They can’t do this. Students study abroad from that department all the time.”

  “Yes, in Italy. Not Scotland.” Julia tugged on his arm and they continued walking.

  “The issue is the coursework. If you can get the courses you need in Edinburgh, they should be able to transfer. You’d be below the maximum number of transfer credits, correct? You only need three courses.”

  “Yes, but not even Graham Todd knows what courses will be offered next year. They haven’t set the schedule.”

  “Bullshit. Whatever they were lacking, Graham or one of his colleagues could offer you a directed research course.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Julia was having difficulty keeping up with Gabriel’s long strides, even ignoring the strange numbness in her leg.

  He seemed to recognize her distress and slowed his pace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you.”

  “I’m okay,” Julia lied.

  “I don’t understand why Cecilia has turned on us. I thought we were friends.” Gabriel muttered a few choice expletives.

  “She mentioned something about the dean scolding Greg Matthews, since no one in his department has been asked to give the Sage Lectures in a long time.”

  “That’s true. But the lectureship is international. And it covers all fields in the humanities, not just literature.”

  “Greg told Cecilia you were considered for the endowed chair they gave to her. The dean brought it up.” Julia and Gabriel exchanged a look.

  “Considered and rejected,” Gabriel scoffed, sounding bitter. “I like Greg, but being awarded the Sage Lectures after being turned down by his department was a very satisfying middle finger to all of them.”

  “Now Cecilia is giving me the middle finger.”

  Gabriel stopped. He unlinked their connection and placed his hands on her shoulders. “She’s giving me the middle finger. You’re just a convenient target.”

  Julia ignored his remark and instead looked down at her child and took her tiny hand. “Hi, Clare.”

  The baby gurgled and smiled, kicking her feet out the sides of the baby carrier.

  Julia returned Clare’s smile. “We shouldn’t talk about this in front of her. She’ll pick up on the negative vibes.”

  “All right,” Gabriel said stiffly.

  They continued their walk to the car.

  “But this is not over.” He gave Julia an ominous look.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  What do you want to do?” Gabriel sat facing Julianne in their bedroom.

  Rebecca was giving Clare a bath and readying her for bed.

  Julia picked at the material of her jeans. “Cecilia said she’d look at the Edinburgh courses. Once I get the schedule, I’ll show them to her.”

  Gabriel sat back and crossed his arms. “Cecilia also told you she wouldn’t approve a semester abroad.”

  “I have to try,” Julia said quietly.

  “We need to talk to Katherine.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Gabriel stood and began to pace. “She can offer advice.”

  “Katherine will confront Cecilia and then Cecilia will drop me.”

  “I’m beginning to think that’s a good thing,” Gabriel huffed.

  “No, it isn’t. If Cecilia drops me, word will get out. It will damage my reputation. And I won’t have a dissertation director.”

  Gabriel stopped pacing. “Work with Katherine.”

  “I’ve already worked with Katherine. She supervised my MA thesis at Toronto, remember? How do you think it would look for me to work with her for both my thesis and my dissertation?”

  “I think it will look fantastic. She’s the top Dante specialist in the world.”

  “Cecilia said I’m too close to Katherine as it is.”

  “Bullshit.” Gabriel continued pacing, like a caged lion. “Cecilia is not objective. Her assessments are clouded by envy.”

  “Katherine can’t be my supervisor until she starts at Harvard, which is next year. Even then, she only has a visiting appointment.”

  “She’s there to supervise graduate students. That was the deal.”

  “What will it look like if Cecilia, who is the endowed chair in Dante Studies, refuses to work with me?”

  “It will look like she’s a jealous bitch, that’s what it will look like.”

  “What happens if something happens to Katherine? She’s in her seventies. What if she decides to leave? Or what if she . . .” Julia covered her face with her hands.

  “Katherine is healthier than all of us.” Gabriel crouched in front of her, placing his hands on her knees.

  “Some students take four to five years to complete their dissertation.” Julia’s voice was muffled. “Katherine will be in her eighties by then.”

  “It won’t take you that long. Katherine understands the commitment involved.” Gabriel squeezed Julia’s knees.

  “It isn’t just the dissertation. Katherine is family.”

  Gabriel pressed his lips together. “Family is everything. That’s why I’m not going to Scotland without you.”

  Julia lowered her hands. Their eyes met. “I don’t want you to cancel the Sage Lectures. You have to go.”

  Gabriel patted her knee. “Then let me intervene.”

  “That will make it worse. Cecilia is angry. We need to give her time to calm down.”

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  “I don’t, either, Gabriel. But remember, I’m supposed to be going to Professor Wodehouse’s workshop with Cecilia in April. If I create a rift with her now, that could jeopardize my invitation.”

  “Wodehouse is in charge.”

  “Please, Gabriel. I’m just asking for a little time.”

  He stood, frowning. “You give up too easily. People take advantage of you.”

  She stood toe to toe with him, her lower lip trembling with anger. “I’m not giving up! I’m simply not making a power move right now. I’m trying to be smart.”

  “It’s smart to fight.”

  “It’s smart to survive long enough to fight another day. Then you can regroup and confront your enemy with a reasoned strategy and greater support. Then perhaps you won’t need to fight.”

  Gabriel stared. “You’ve been reading The Art of War.”

  “No, I’ve been studying feminist literature.”

  Gabriel’s mouth twitched and his anger melted away. “I know better than to fight that army. I surrender to you and your sisters.” He pulled her into his arms.

  She hugged him back.

  “But only for now,” he whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The following afternoon

  Boston Fencing Club

  Brighton, Massachusetts

  Gabriel was frustrated. He’d received another text from Jack Mitchell.

  Looked into the roommate and the senator’s son.

  Nothing.

  As always, Jack was the soul of brevity. Gabriel would have to call him in order to find out the full import of his text.

  At the thought, Gabriel thrust his saber, warming up before facing his opponent.

  He hadn’t told Julianne about the black Nissan or her uncle Jack’s latest mission. Since there was nothing to report, at least to date, his decision was vindicated. But there were other, deeper concerns that weighed on him.

  Julianne had been adamant he not intervene with Cecilia. Although he could have ignored Julianne’s wishes, he wouldn’t do so. Which meant he was feeling impotent in addition to being angry. Impote
nce was not a state he was familiar with, which was why he was at his fencing club, working out his multiple frustrations.

  His coach and fencing partner was Michel, a quiet, older gentleman who hailed from Montreal. Michel was a former Olympian and a formidable opponent. Gabriel admired him.

  Gabriel preferred the saber to the foil or épée, because it was the fastest of the three fencing events. It rewarded aggression through the right of way and used a heavier weapon. The slashing capability of the saber was enormously satisfying.

  Gabriel longed to challenge Julianne’s enemies to a duel, one by one. But he would have to be content to fence with his coach. The men put on their helmets and saluted one another.

  One of the other members of the club, who was acting as referee, shouted, “En garde. Prêts? Allez!”

  And the bout began.

  Michel attacked immediately and Gabriel parried, continuing into a riposte. Michel quickly parried and made contact with Gabriel’s right shoulder, scoring a point.

  As the fencers retreated to the en garde lines, Gabriel adjusted his helmet.

  The referee shouted and the bout resumed.

  Both Gabriel and Michel wore conductive uniforms that were connected via long cables to an electronic box. The cables themselves were retractable, so as not to constrict movement. When a valid part of the body was hit, the box would record a point. However, it was the referee’s job to determine the right of way; only fencers with right of way could score a point.

  Gabriel knew he could have worked out his aggression by pounding the heavy bag at the gym. But fencing channeled his anger and dampened it. In order to fence, he had to force himself to remain calm and to concentrate.

  Michel capitalized on any and all weaknesses and was especially gifted at circular parries and ripostes. Gabriel was younger and faster. He deflected an aggression and launched a counterattack, hitting Michel’s helmet, which was a valid target.

  The fencers battled, back and forth and back and forth, in short, controlled attacks. Michel’s score began to climb and Gabriel struggled to catch up.