What in the hell was I thinking,he thought ruefully.She was a fantasy, nothing more.He mounted the horse and rode away from Boar’s Hill, intending to never look back.
Chapter 8
“Morechocolate,miss?”
Fern heard the woman’s foot tapping but ignored it. For nearly two hours she had occupied the finest table in the Broad Street tea shop, the one with a perfect view of the entrance to the Bodleian, and had thus far successfully repelled any encroachment from potential interlopers.
The proprietress cleared her throat. “Miss?”
“Yes, please, another,” Fern stammered, not taking her eyes off her target, and the woman left with a huff.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have had another chocolate. She’d become jittery, but it couldn’t be helped. She would not be able to stay much longer either. Her mother would discover her absence when she was called to dinner. But Fern was certain Alex was in the library, or at least could assume so from what he had told her sister that morning. He would have to leave at some point, wouldn’t he?
Fern’s chest tightened at the thought of him and she rubbed at her sternum. She should have spoken to him immediately when he arrived at Boar’s Hill, but seeing Rose, poised, beautiful,perfectRose, Fern knew Alex would find her inadequate. But Fern wasn’t ready to let him go. He was a glimpse into a world she had only dreamed of, lived the life she yearned to experience. What would it be like to study like the men? To be given every opportunity to contribute knowledge to the world instead of merely being a consumer?
She had never felt more alive than she did in his presence. Fern had always assumed being courted meant giving up something of herself, taking on the role of a lady, not a scholar. With Alex, she had been both parts of her and he admired her for it, had even been attracted to her for her intelligence, not in spite of it.
She jolted in her seat, slopping chocolate milk onto the linen tablecloth. Alex exited the heavy front gates of the Bodleian, dressed in gray trousers and a white shirt, a navy jacket over his gray vest. He tossed his leather satchel over his shoulder, wincing at the weight. He rubbed his eyes and dropped his head as he descended the path toward Broad Street.
Fern threw a handful of coins on her table and dashed out of the restaurant, causing the flummoxed serving girl to spill her tray with a shout. She darted across the cobbled street, dodging vehicles and pedestrians, until she stood directly before a perplexed Mr. Alexander Carroway.
His face screwed up in confusion. Fern watched him blink hard, as though a spark of recognition flared and then died away. Her heart sank.He is looking at me, of course he would have no interest. He wants Rose.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
She held up the copy of Descartes. “I wanted to return this,” she said, handing the book over to him.
“You read it already?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.
“Of course,” she replied tartly. “Twice.”
Alex ran his fingers roughly through his hair. With a rush, Fern remembered how his fingers had touched her cheek and a delightful shiver ran through her. “It’s been a terrible day for me,” Alex said with a sigh, “and I do not have the energy for another conversation, Miss…”
“Fern.”
“Right. Fern.” He nodded to her and moved to step past. “Good day, miss.”
“You called on my sister this morning.”
Alex froze in place. Fern’s heart thrummed so hard she worried she would not be able to hear his response.
Alex turned cautiously and stepped closer to her. “What did you say?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.
Taking a steadying breath, Fern spoke. “I’m FernWaverly. Rose is my twin sister.”
Alex’s eyes opened wide for a brief moment, then he began to laugh, loud and with so little control that several passersby stared. “Of course you are,” he spat out, as he gestured towards the heavens. “Of course! The day can only get worse.”
Fern registered the flashing pain of insult but pressed on. “I know you met her at the party, but I need you to know something.” She paused, drumming up her courage.
I want to be with you,she thought, willing herself the courage to say the words out loud.I want you to know I am the woman you kissed.
But something behind Alex stopped Fern in her tracks. Three women walked together across the street wearing scarves from Lady Margaret Hall. It was too warm a day for such accessories but clearly the women were proud to be identified as students. These women may be outliers, but they were part of this world, existing in the orbit of learning instead of hovering on the periphery.
Fern felt a visceral longing to be among them. For a moment she forgot she was talking to Alex and about to reveal the truth behind last night. Life as an academic wasrightto her, like scratching an itch that had irritated her for two decades. Her pulse raced at the opportunity she had in front of her, a way to reach her dreams and make them a reality. Alex already breathed the rarified Oxtonian air, knew the secrets, and had the connections. But if she admitted she had fooled him at the masquerade, he could walk away and she may never have the chance again. He was the first person who had seen her brilliance as a gift, even if he thought she was someone else. Perhaps he could listen, evenhelp.
She clenched her fists in her skirt. She would have to be dishonest, not only with Alex but with Rose.Rose, the sister who made everyone happy, who always got what she wanted.
Why can’t I get what I want?
