Fern gave a mirthless laugh. “Huge.” She drew in a large breath. “I pretended to be Rose at Papa’s party. I wanted to be someone else, to see what it was like to be her. I met Alex there and…it was perfect.” Memories of their night, how it felt to be in his arms, flooded back. “He thought I was Rose, though, and wanted to court her.”
“I thought something was off about the party, but after enough champagne, all of you girls start to look the same.” Aunt Margaret shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell him right away? Surely he would have discovered the truth when Rose did not know him.”
“Rose helped me deceive him,” Fern said, her voice cold. “I wanted him to help me get into Oxford, so I made him promise to help me and I would help him court Rose. Except Rose fell for him, and so did I.”
“You did your sister a favor, then, saving her from a loveless marriage. Does he love you?”
She nodded, the fist around her heart clenching tighter. “He did,” she replied. “But not anymore.”
Aunt Margaret was silent for a long time, watching her niece with narrowed eyes before finally speaking. “Well, you’ve certainly made a hash of it, haven’t you?”
Something broke deep inside Fern and she laughed, letting out tears and cries of pain and sorrow amid the laughter. Margaret handed her a handkerchief. Excessive emotion was not something she tolerated. “Forget the boy, what about your work? Oxford?”
“What about it?” Fern asked, wiping her nose indelicately.
Margaret heaved an exasperated sigh. “Are you going to Oxford? If so, I haven’t heard about it.”
“No.” Her voice was cold again, as dead as her dreams. “I missed my chance. The professor who was to see my work canceled our meeting. Alex was my connection for the meeting in the first place, so without him, there is no hope.”
“Why do young women think the only way to get what they want is to have a man do it for them?” Margaret spat out, her words full of ire. Fern sat up and tilted her head. She had never seen her great-aunt express any emotion beyond annoyance or disdain, so this level of passion was unprecedented.
“You are an extremely clever girl, a quality I like to think came from me,” she continued. “Read the writing on the wall. It will be many years before women are recognized for the work they do, but has that stopped them from creating?”
Fern shook her head dumbly.
“Ofcoursenot!” Aunt Margaret was on the edge of her seat now, her eyes sparkling. “You must decide for yourself what is important—the recognition, or contributing to the world of mathematics?”
“I—I want to…” What did she want?Oxford, to be a scholar and recognized for her brilliance, to see her name in print.But her name… She had lied about her name before, what if she were to do it again? “What about an alias?”
Margaret’s wrinkled face lit in a mischievous grin. “That’s my girl. Look at George Eliot, she made a name for herself as a novelist, you can do the same.”
Fern’s mind was racing, but it did not take long for her to decide on her course of action. “I think I have a perfect idea. It might bebrilliant.”
Chapter 33
Alexspentanentireweek, a glorious seven days, wasting time. He justified it to himself as an opportunity to take the trips he had always wanted to take but never had the time, stopping at Gloucester, Bristol, and Bath, studiously ignoring the need to face his future when he returned to campus. By the time he made it to the Cotswolds to visit Henry at his family’s country home, the impending decision sat heavily on his shoulders. For the first time he could remember, Alex had no idea what to do next.
“Bloody hell,” Henry said, taking in Alex’s bloodshot eyes and disheveled appearance. “You look awful.”
Alex sat beside him in a heap, absently admiring the sprawling gardensin the waning daylight. Henry nodded for the footman to pour them both a healthy share of whisky then dismissed him. “I’ve felt better.” Alex took a sip, allowing the dark liquid to soothe him from the inside as he told Henry the tale of Fern and her deception.
“I’ve never seen you all pulled to pieces over a woman like this.” Henry released a low chuckle. “Well, two women, as it were.”
Alex threw back his drink, coughed in what he hoped was a dignified manner, then leaned his elbows on his knees. “I can’t imagine why she would do such a thing. Why would shelieto me, toeveryonelike that?”
“You’ve never told a lie?”
“Not one like this, no.”
“This one does certainly seem a bit excessive.” Henry topped off Alex’s glass once more. “Did Finley tell you why she did it?’
“Fern, she’s Fern.” Alex released a guttural groan. “She wanted to go to Oxford and thought I would help her. She strung me—and her sister—along, so she could get what she wanted.”
“And you’ve never used people to get what you wanted?” The cross tone in Henry’s normally nonchalant voice made Alex look up with a furrowed brow.
“No,” Alex replied resolutely.
Henry scoffed. “How about using my horse and my punt so you could court the sister?”
