Ironically, it was as though she was the one no longer thinking clearly.
Yet she couldn’t muster the emotion to regret one minute of the time shared with Matthew thus far. The day began with a visit to a physician who would likely relay distressing news tomorrow. But from that point forward, she’d found respite in adventure. Their visit to the apothecary alley was intriguing and interesting. The Marbles and artwork, equally so.
She’d seen the perfectly fashioned ladies at the gallery who’d given her a cursory glance and quick dismissal. Yet staring after them, she’d waited for a jolt of awareness to return her to the hurtful days at the academy, but that didn’t happen. She wouldn’t cling to memories or create ghosts of the present. She had a multitude of other troubles worth deliberation tomorrow. Now, she sat at the ready to enjoy a presentation of tumblers and animal tricks.
Yes, it was distraction, not a solution to the predicament. She couldn’t dismiss the conflicted emotions twisting her insides tight. But coming out to see the unexpected sites as Matthew had promised, proved the right decision.
What had he to gain from all this? They’d shared an unlikely visit at Leighton House, which would always be a cherished memory. But beyond that, whether here in London or in Oxfordshire, the path forward seemed a rush into heartache. Any more kisses, embraces, and caresses would encourage her heart to become far too attached. Truthfully, I already have sentimental feelings. And to what end? The question pestered her brain in a relentless circle of emotion versus logic.
A single trumpet blast jolted her thoughts to the present and with no resolution except to enjoy the performance, she forced her eyes to the center stage.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was nearly dusk when they exited Astley’s Amphitheatre. They’d laughed, snacked on too many sugary treats, and lost themselves in the simplicity of the show’s enjoyment. Still, reality greeted them on the other side of the door as they exited into the night. Matthew’s carriage waited at the curb. It was time to return to Mivart’s Hotel and claim some much needed rest. There were no more distractions to be had.
“Thank you.” She hoped he heard the sincerity in her words. “I haven’t worried over Grandfather’s condition nearly as much as I might have. Your day of distraction has been a success.” He really was a thoughtful, caring man. The remembrance of his strong, affectionate words at the British Museum rose up, but she forced them away.
“You’re very welcome.” He opened the carriage door and handed her inside. “With your permission I’d like to have Coggs escort Dora back to the hotel in a hansom cab. I hoped for a moment of privacy before returning you this evening.”
Her pulse leapt into a faster rhythm. “Another moment of privacy?” She quirked a smile that granted him what he’d requested.
“Yes. I suppose so.”
With arrangements made and Dora dispatched into Coggs’s care, Matthew climbed into the carriage and they were off. But the conversation was nothing she might have anticipated.
“Tomorrow I will return to the Society for the Intellectually Advanced, where your grandfather’s article has caused a high degree of conversation and speculation.”
“My article, you mean.”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat, visibly uneasy. “There’s no easy explanation for why the hypothesis set forth isn’t valid. We attempted to replicate the results with little success, and then there’s your grandfather’s condition and inability to address the group directly. I don’t wish for his reputation to be blackened.”
“What are you trying to say?” She had no idea where the conversation was leading.
“Would you consider making a presentation on his behalf? I realize it’s highly unusual, and for all your brilliant intelligence, those who possess a cynical, narrow-minded view might label you in an unfavorable light, but I see no other way to uphold Lord Talbot’s reputation as an outstanding scientist and also provide a reason why the article is acceptable within its flawed theory. It provides an opportunity to answer questions and provide further information, despite the claims cannot be proven in the traditional manner.”
“Are you suggesting Grandfather attend the presentation where I field the questions that might arise? I can’t imagine a plan like that could succeed. Grandfather would interrupt, contradict, or worse, demand to be heard.” She shook her head thoroughly.
“There is that.”
“Meanwhile, I’m not confident in my own ability to answer questions from a room full of scholars.”
“You should be. You’ve read every article your grandfather has written, duplicated his experiments, studied his documents and grown up at his side. That kind of tutelage is rare and unmatched. Much like you.”
The compliment hung in the air between them, and while the carriage rattled over the cobbles, she wondered if he spoke the truth. Mayhap she could speak to the assembly. Would the gentlemen receive her with open-mindedness or skepticism? There was no way to know.
“Too much has happened today for me to consider this further.” She wished she had a better answer. “I have Grandfather’s health as my utmost priority. It’s the reason I’ve come to London in the first place.”
“Of course.”
Thankfully, he let the matter drop, though the conversation didn’t lag for long.
“What will you do, Theodosia?”
His question whispered across the dark interior and she wished he would turn the key on the lamp and raise the light so she could read the emotion in his eyes. She couldn’t bear his pity. Or was it curiosity? Why did he care? All her emotions seemed tangled and knotted with not one thread leading to an end. “I don’t know.”
“You are alone.”
“You needn’t worry on my behalf. I need no rescuer.” She told herself to believe those statements, though she remained unsure. No, that couldn’t be true or else she’d have accepted Kirkman’s offer.
“Of course not.” His boots shuffled against the floorboards.
And then the carriage rocked to a stop.
“Good-bye, Matthew.” The words held an unintentional and ominous note of finality.
“Until tomorrow, Theodosia.” His were much more optimistic.
Neither of them moved.
“Kirkman will accompany me to Dr. Fletcher’s office. You needn’t do more. You’ve already inconvenienced yourself on my behalf.”
“Not a chance another appointment will pull Kirkman away?” Matthew looked out the window as he answered. “I don’t like the idea of you meeting with the physician without a friend nearby.”
“I suppose it was a trip of dual purpose for Kirkman, but you needn’t disrupt your schedule.”
“That’s an impossibility. You are very precious, indeed.”
Words floated back and forth, though she didn’t make a move toward leaving.
“I appreciate your help. I truly do.” She reached across the space between them and touched her hand to his.
He clasped her fingers, folded them into his grasp and tugged her forward slightly.
Was this why she hadn’t left? Had her heart insisted she wait for one more kiss?
“This isn’t good-bye.” His breath brushed against her temple as he leaned forward, the width between them reduced to a few inches. “We have unfinished business to attend to.”
He didn’t allow her the chance to answer and instead closed the remaining distance, his mouth on hers hot and demanding, a brand of sorts.
And she welcomed his kiss. Wanting his strength and reassurance. Wanting his comfort and attention. She wanted too many things and at the same time had no idea how she would ever forget him once she returned to Oxfordshire.
* * *
Matthew pulled Theodosia forward, settling her beside him on the bench. Her skirts overlapped to blanket his legs in layers of too much fabric. He shifted and angled his body so he could taste her mouth better.
He’d traveled to Oxfordshire to uncover a scientific fraud or learn an indisputab
le truth and instead discovered his heart. What was it about Theodosia that called to him? He couldn’t label it, but this time evidence to support the hypothesis didn’t matter. For too long he’d tried to squelch the fear he wouldn’t find someone to suit his lifestyle, understand his personality and speak to his desire, and in an unlikely turn of events he’d arrived at the very destination he’d believed impossible.
The current location was more than he’d ever hoped for.
It took only a breath, but then with a little surrender sound, she matched his attention. Her hands crept up his chest to encircle his neck and he framed her face with his palms, anxious to keep them connected. His body reacted with a jolt of awareness, each muscle tight, while the kiss turned timeless, a symbol of what was to come, a long relationship of caring and affection, the promise of a future. He wanted to take her home with him. Feel her body against his. Skin to skin. Passion matched with curiosity and exploration. He wanted so much more than a kiss in a carriage before they parted for the evening. He had to convince her to stay. Now more than ever.
* * *
Theodosia’s experience was limited. She recognized inordinate kindness, surprised by Matthew’s actions and the extent of his dedication. He’d made it a point to speak to Dr. Fletcher and then entertained her for the day so she wouldn’t dwell on the inevitable truth concerning Grandfather’s health. He’d been charming, handsome, generous, and lighthearted, and now . . . now he was everything a young woman could desire in a man.
Yet this kiss signified good-bye. She couldn’t believe otherwise. Fear sent a pulse to her heart faster and stronger than his mouth upon hers. What if she opened her heart only to find rejection? What if she allowed herself to love and received hurt in return? Oh, she knew Matthew would never intentionally harm her, but fate had an unusual way of claiming the loved ones in her life. First her parents, and now Grandfather. She couldn’t bear to fall in love and be left broken again. Loneliness didn’t hurt nearly as much if nothing was at risk.
All these concerns crowded into her brain, stealing pleasure from his kiss, though she wrapped her arms around his neck and tried desperately to push the intrusive thoughts away.
But it was no use, and disappointed that she couldn’t find pleasure in the moment, she broke away.
“Good-bye, Matthew.” He couldn’t know she meant forever. “Thank you for the day and for all you’ve done on my behalf. I speak for my grandfather as well.”
He might have noted something telling in her expression, his eyes matched to hers with acute perspicuity. He was far too clever for his own good.
“Good night, Theodosia. It was my pleasure to share your company today.”
They didn’t say more and she exited, relieved to see Coggs waiting with Dora at the entry of the hotel. She went inside and didn’t look back.
* * *
Matthew paced his bedchamber, his leg in mutiny of the repetitive action, but his body too restless to take ease otherwise. Something seemed amiss in Theodosia’s tone when she’d bid him good night. It could be the anticipation of hearing Dr. Fletcher’s observations. But then, it could be something altogether different.
He was no better the next morning. Distracted by thoughts of the news Dr. Fletcher would impart and Theodosia’s reaction as she sat alone to accept the report, he called for his carriage and gladly left Coggs behind. The last thing he needed was unsolicited advice or petty gossip. Solitude and sensible thinking were his two greatest allies at the moment. And while he knew he was breaking her trust by persisting, he meant no disrespect. He cared for her. Deeply. He wasn’t ready to say good-bye. She would have to accept his reason whether she liked it or not.
Arriving at the Society for the Intellectually Advanced, he accomplished the slate walkway quickly and approached the neatly bricked building with purpose in mind. He would converse with the other members present and perhaps review the schedule of planned speakers for the New Year, but by no means would he mention his trip to Oxfordshire. If Theodosia didn’t care to present Lord Talbot’s work, and another fascinating topic seized the interest of the members, let them forget his fact-finding mission altogether.
Pleased to see several familiar faces in attendance this morning, he moved toward his office down the hall. The library and drawing room were popular congregation areas and at the moment he wished to gather his thoughts and steal a modicum of serenity.
He glanced at the walnut longcase clock with its gleaming brass workings. His attention divided, he stared at the methodic sway of the pendulum before at last seeking the time. The hands were nearly at ten o’clock. Dr. Fletcher was due to return to his office with Lord Talbot at eleven. Kirkman was assisting Theodosia. Matthew’s mood soured with the fact, but he couldn’t dwell on it.
“Whittingham. What’s kept you?”
Matthew turned to see Lord Rannings approach. They shook hands and proceeded farther down the corridor until he unlocked the door to his office and they entered. He placed his walking stick in the porcelain umbrella stand in the corner and claimed his chair behind the desk.
“Is there a problem that needs my attention?” He couldn’t imagine what would cause Rannings to express concern over his whereabouts. He was a quiet member of the Society and rarely approached for conversation.
“No, although several members are interested in the findings from your trip to Oxfordshire. Myself, most of all. Lord Talbot couldn’t possibly have achieved the results he detailed in his latest article. The chemical ratios and compounds suggested won’t react and sustain existence in isolation. Dephlogisticated air is nothing more than a myth, and I challenge Talbot to prove otherwise.” Rannings adjusted his spectacles as they slid down his nose, his impassioned debate having knocked them lower. “I hope you’ve discovered the truth and brought an explanation with you this morning. To publish an article when the experiment remains inconclusive is a misstep for the reputations of both the science community and the leading science journal in London.”
“I agree.” A twinge of guilt and compassion for Theodosia’s situation brought his temper to the forefront. “But does it matter, Rannings? If you can prove otherwise, you should conduct contradictory research and pursue publication of your findings. Otherwise it might be in the best interest of all involved to excuse the matter as unsatisfying.”
His reply stalled whatever rebuttal Rannings formulated, and the man eyed him with a trace of incredulity. “What?” He readjusted his spectacles, though this time they hadn’t moved. “You left London in the harshest weather to seek out the truth and have returned with nothing more than a mild interest in the subject and a suggestion it’s best left unchallenged? This isn’t like you at all, Whittingham. Something strange is afoot. What did you discover? Did the old earl pay you to keep your trap shut?”
“Watch your step, Rannings. You’ve a suspicious mind.” He mentally considered the best way to proceed. “I spoke to Talbot concerning his findings and while it might have been prudent to include a paragraph within the article that explained the results were not consistent, it matters little now. We are men of science and therefore appreciate all contributions, whether they achieve the desired result or fail miserably. It makes little sense to dwell on a past publication, however marred with error, when science is already moving forward.”
Rannings appeared unconvinced, but sensing there wasn’t any more discussion to be had, he nodded and moved to the door. “Perhaps, although I would like to discuss this further. Please keep this conversation in mind. If all scientific study is held to a flimsy standard, and errors are forgiven when they neither further science or enlighten the community, a grave injustice has been committed.”
Rannings left and Matthew exhaled with relief. If he could convince Theodosia to stay in London, he could enact a change that would set the city on its ear. Rannings worried about inconsistent findings and the impact on modern science study, but what of society as a whole? The perception of females and their intelligence. The deflatin
g of gossipy women or men, Coggs came to mind, and most of all, to the truth and proof that the workings of a woman’s brain could be as powerful as the fluttering of their eyelashes.
He banged the desktop with his fist, all at once invigorated to seek out Theodosia. He needed to speak to her about a number of subjects. Of course, Dr. Fletcher’s results were the most important, her well-being too, and the course for Talbot’s care for the future. But then, if she was interested in the idea, he had a challenge to set before her. One which might restore her belief in the kindness of others as well as reconstitute confidence in herself. And too, he would be able to spend more time in her company and that was the sweetest reward of all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Theodosia sat alone in Dr. Fletcher’s office, her heart beating a frantic tattoo. She anticipated discouraging news and tried to prepare for the physician’s opinion, but a foolish sliver of hope survived no matter how hard she attempted to squash it. Grandfather and Kirkman remained in the waiting room. Kirkman was a good man. She hoped he solved his problem, found a woman to marry and fulfilled whatever endeavor had him in a rush to the altar. But I’m not that woman. Last night she’d worked hard to convince herself life would be easier if she accepted his proposal and compromised her future, but the idea wouldn’t take root. Now a sense of relief steadied her nerves. There was peace of mind in considering someone else’s problems instead of her own.
Still, that calm was short-lived. She touched a hand to her throat to quell a threatening sob. Fear lived in her, no matter she did her best to face down every complication in her life. What would Dr. Fletcher say? She didn’t want to be alone. This thought brought with it another. She missed Matthew. Already his absence caused unwanted longing as painful as an open wound. But Matthew was tied to London and London reminded her of every reason she belonged in Oxfordshire. Her mind raced in an endless circle of confused emotion.
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