Fern lifted her eyes from her novel. “What will Mama and Papa think of him?” she asked.
Rose hesitated, twisting her mouth into a grimace. “I’m sure Mama won’t approve, but Papa might.” Rose traced the embroidered patterns on Fern’s counterpane with her slim fingers. “But Alex is a different sort of man, an intellectual like Papa. Papa’s bound to respect him.”
Fern pursed her lips. Alex had confided in her about feeling as though he didn’t belong. It wasn’t her place to share, but shouldn’t Rose at least consider his feelings? “Do you think he would enjoy spending time with us? All of us?”
“I was worried at first,” Rose replied, a crease appearing between her brows, “but Fern, he was so charming, andfunnywith the girls, as though he had known them for years! I had no idea he was so funny!”
I knew.The jealous monster growled. “Of course he’s funny.”
Rose rolled until she faced Fern on her side. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting about how you met…” She pressed her pink lips together tightly. “Are you certain it doesn’t bother you, to hear about us together?”
“Not at all,” Fern said, rising to her feet, hoping to dislodge the jealous monster. “Alex has no feelings for me.”
“But do you have feelings for him?”
If Fern had answered in the affirmative, she was certain Rose would have ended the courtship immediately. But if the courtship ended, Alex would no longer help Fern with her preparations.
“He’s exactly what you’re looking for,” Fern replied, hoping her sister wouldn’t notice the dodge. “I would enjoy having him as a member of the family.”
Most university students viewed the end of April like the coming of dawn, when the dark nights and frigid mornings of winter give way to flowering trees, warm breezes, and a respite from the rigors of classes.
Like his classmates, Alex eagerly anticipated the end of term, signifying the end of his studies and the start of the next chapter of his life. When they met in the library, he asked Fern to give him feedback on his dissertation, and he should have known she would not hold back.
“Have you read Gauss before, or do you just enjoy tormenting me?” he asked as she scratched out an entire paragraph of his writing.
“Of course I’ve read it,” she retorted. “And this is incorrect, you know.” She hastily erased a note he had written in the margin and replaced it with one of her own. He scowled as he read it, irritated he had not caught his error earlier.
Fern nodded her approval, then looked at him quizzically. “I suppose I should have asked you earlier, but why Gauss? His work is much more scientifically relevant, I would think you would want to study someone more closely related to economics.”
“I’ve always been drawn to Gauss.” Alex rubbed the cramp out of his hand. “He was born poor, unlike so many mathematicians. His mother was illiterate, and he received no formal education until adulthood. He was driven entirely by the desire to make sense of the world.”
“You feel a kinship towards him then?”
He shrugged. “I suppose so, although my family was closer to being respectable.”
Fern tilted her head as she looked at him. “How would you define ‘respectable’?”
Alex closed his notebook and gazed upwards, as though the answer could be found on the ceiling above him. “Wealthy, I suppose? Connected? It’s difficult at Oxford, when everyone can list their relations back to William the Conqueror, and my grandparents were tenant farmers.”
“There is nothing disreputable about humble beginnings.”
Alex scoffed. “You don’t see the difference because you are already a part of the respectable class. You have not seen the way people look at me, my clothing, my accent… They know I don’t belong here.”
Rose gave him an incredulous glare. “Of course you belong here, and you need to stop telling yourself otherwise. You’rebrilliant. Isn’t that what this place is supposed to be, full of the most incredible minds in the nation?”
“As long as those minds can afford all the trappings. I’m the son of a tradesman, which is certainly not the norm.”
“Well, you must consider who sets the norms,” Fern replied. “It’s not people like you and me.”
“Let me ask you a question.” Alex leaned forward on his elbows. “Your father is a viscount and holds massive influence at this university. Why isn’t he helping you with admission?”
She flinched and then pursed her lips together. “He does not approve of me, or any woman, studying maths. It’s…unusual, irregular, and he hates anything uncommon. But if I were to win a place and impress the professors on my own, it would be much harder for him to refuse me. Not impossible, but at least more difficult. I think if I wanted to pursue art or poetry he would be amenable, but being able to discuss maths does not help me win a husband.“
Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “Is such a thing expected of you?”
She laughed, although he could sense the bitterness in the sound. “Not ofme, my mother and father know better than to expect me to marry. They’re holding out hope of Rose making a good match.”
His gut twisted. Was she hinting he was not an appropriate husband for Rose?
