Fern shook her head as though she could hear his thoughts. “I’m not saying you aren’t a good match. You’re fantastic. You are a scholar and have a bright future.” She gave a wan smile. “After Saturday, you’re all Rose has talked about.”
Saturday’s picnic had been a smashing success, despite its awkward start. Rose had fawned over Alex’s heroism in rescuing her sister and boasted to her friends about his intelligence and bright future. He felt awkward and out of place at first, but Rose’s natural ebullience and charm allowed him to relax enough to enjoy the experience. When he had finally returned Rose to the family’s carriage, she had stood on her toes to kiss him briefly on the cheek before stepping inside, leaving him reeling but somehow empty inside. Things were proceeding exactly as he had hoped, but his thoughts kept returning to the water and to the young woman he had left behind.
“If you’re not expected to marry, what does your family want for you?” Alex asked.
Fern shrugged. “I suppose they expect me to be a companion, most likely for my Aunt Margaret.” She shuddered, and Alex cracked a smile. “I suppose by the fifth child, parents stop having ambitions for their children and simply want them to leave the house.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Alex said. “All parents have dreams for their children.”
“What dreams did your parents have for you?”
Alex sighed, memories washing over him. “My father’s dream was for me to go to the London School of Economics and work for the government. My father envied the men in those posts, their travel, connections, prestige… He never had the chance to do that sort of work but hoped maybe I could."
“And is that what you want as well?”
He hesitated. London was what he wanted, it was what he had worked for his entire life, the destination, the endgame for his years of labor. Being a professor would be nice, but it was not the vision his father had held for him. His father had worked so hard to provide for Alex’s future, only to have his own stolen away.
“It would be wonderful, helping discover mathematical talent and mentoring the next great minds at the university… But it’s not respected, and certainly not lucrative.”
She must have read the tension on his face because a smile pulled at the edge of her lips. “I suppose being a riverboat guide is not in your future employment plans?”
Alex laughed, and she beamed. Fern’s smile was infectious when she chose to share it. “No, certainly not.”
“So if you were not a mathematician, what would you be?” she asked, propping her chin on her hand.
He made a show of thinking. “Certainly not a poet, or a musician. A stable hand, perhaps? I could be a carpenter, my father taught me quite a bit when I was young.”
“You can fix things?” Fern’s eyes glittered, as though collecting these tiny details of his life and stashing them away gave her great joy. It made him want to give her more.
“I built an entire set of bookshelves for my mother when I was twelve. I was so proud of myself, I told everyone in the neighborhood about it. There was a whole party in our parlor when she put her first book on it. How humiliating when the entire thing collapsed.”
Fern’s laugh was enchanting. Her head tossed back as she giggled, so free and unrestrained it made him chuckle in return. She wiped tears from her eyes. “If you’re so talented, perhaps you can fix this dreadful table.” The table in question, the only one available in their deserted alcove, was woefully uneven and had a tendency to shift violently when they put weight on one corner.
Alex stood and dusted off his shoulders. “Let me give you my expert assessment.” He sat down and scooted under the table, his back on the wooden planks of the floor. “Ah, you see, here is the problem.”
“Where?” He turned his head to see Fern flat on her back next to him, staring at the bottom of the table. He paused for a second, a quick thrill running through him.She holds nothing back, does she?
“Here.” He pointed to one leg. “It seems this leg is…shorter than the others.” He turned and put out his hand. “That will be ten quid.”
She burst into laughter, placing her hand into his as he laughed along with her. It must have been the late hour, or the lack of sleep, or the unusual nature of their relationship, but he felt an intense sense of kinship with Fern, as though despite their wildly different experiences and backgrounds, she understood a part of him no one had been privy to before.
He rolled to his side to face her and pulled her hand towards him, unable to hold back his own laughter. She rolled as well, grinning openly at him. They were mere inches apart. He could smell her, a mix of outdoors and honey, like a meadow in spring. Her eyes sparkled, and he was struck by the kaleidoscope of colors in her iris, greens and browns and blues scattered about.Has she always been so pretty?
Alex could not remember the last time he had laughed so openly, had let himself be silly and have fun. It had happened with Fern in the river. And before it had been…
The ball. With Rose.
Alex blinked hard at the sobering thought and cleared his throat. “We should…”
She must have sensed the shift in the atmosphere because Fern turned away as they both climbed out from under the table, brushing dust from their clothing.
Alex found he couldn’t look at Fern yet, as though they had shared something remarkably intimate yet undefined. As much as he wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened, he wanted to be back in it again, lost with her. But he couldn’t, Fern was a distraction.London. Rose.
He squared his shoulders and met her eyes. “I set the meeting with Sylvester for two weeks from now, the day after my thesis defense. I told him the barest information about you, how you are a mathematics student I am assisting and you have some brilliant ideas he may be interested in hearing.” She raised one eyebrow. “I know, I’m going to have to tell him more eventually, but I don’t want him to refuse outright because of who you are. Once he has seen your work he will see the merit of your application.”
“Will he refuse to see me if he knows the truth?”
Alex shook his head vigorously, although he wished he was as confident as he appeared. “He has experienced prejudice in his life, and I would think Sylvester of all people would be willing to take a chance on you.”
