My jaw slackened in shock. “Truly, Papa?”
“Yes, I have always said that women bring a valuable perspective to intellectual discussion. Even your mother, though she has no interest in politics, has her own viewpoints on current policy. The Duchess of Harbridge is particularly outspoken about women’s rights and human rights. I will solicit both their thoughts on the matter.” He sat back with a solemn expression. “Now, about your young man…”
Heaven help me, my heart was going to beat its way out of my chest!
“Papa, I am sorry I lied about his origins. HeisFrench, well half, but he’s not wealthy.” I chewed on the inside of my lip. “He’s also on track to be a Fellow of Trinity College.” I huffed a winded breath. “The pedigree thing was my idea, not just so he would be taken seriously by theton,but also because I thought you wouldn’t consider him as a suitor if he didn’t have the influence or wealth you required. I wanted you to like him. To approve of him.”
The duke scrubbed a palm over his jaw. “One thing at a time, Rosalin, but a man’s character is just as important to me as whether he can provide for you and give you the life you’re accustomed to. Though first, we have to find out where he is.”
I stared at him in bewilderment. “You’ll help us?”
“I am your father, Rosalin. What else would I do?”
“We both thought you would be furious,” Ansel said softly.
“Oh, I am quite irate, but this is a learning experience that I expect you two need to reflect hard on before we consider appropriate consequences for your actions.”
I gulped, but any punishment would probably be less than I deserved. “Thank you, Papa.”
It was well past dinnertime, and Papa and Ansel still had not returned. I waited with my mother, whom Papa had filled in about our conversation, much to her consternation, and whom I was also suddenly looking at with new eyes. I had not expected my father to share such a telling detail about their relationship—that he valued her views even when she wasn’t particularly invested in politics. My mother’s quiet disposition wasn’t a weakness; it was a strength.
One did not have to be loud to be subversive. She listened and then shared her opinions with my father, who clearlyrespectedthose opinions.
The “Listen more and speak less” adage had never been there to silence me; it was there to arm me. Becauselivingwas political. How one interacted with the world was political. How one raised and educated one’s children was inherently political.
I had been allowed to study with my male cousin.
I had been given free rein over my many so-called failed seasons.
I had been encouraged to read diversely and widely at every opportunity.
Eyes stinging, I recalled my determination to find a spouse who valued me in sentiment and intelligence, who offered me atrueconnection, and who allowed me to pursue my own passions. Goodness, I’d been a fool to think my parents’ marriage was everything I didn’t want. My mother’s passion had shifted to family, and my father had always valued that. Their love for each other wasn’t showy like fireworks, but it ran deep, rooted in mutual esteem.
“Mama?” I pressed a hand to the fluttering pulse at my throat. “Remember when you used to tell me stories of the ancient Greek constellations? You had your own telescope and tracked the stars. Why did you give up your passion for it?”
“I didn’t give it up, darling,” she said after a beat. “My priorities simply shifted. First with you and then Bowen. You became the primary stars in my sky.”
“Don’t you miss it?”
She shrugged one elegantly garbed shoulder. “There’s a reason your father keeps our libraries stocked with the latest editions of books and catalogues by notable scientists and astronomers. He does that for me. You just benefit from it.” She let out a soft laugh. “And I’m not completely cut off from that life. Caroline is still a dear friend who keeps me abreast of new developments, and of course, all her accomplishments in astronomy.”
I blinked—there was only one Caroline in astronomy worth mentioning. “CarolineHerschel?” My voice was a strained squeak.
Mama nodded. “The telescope I had before you were born was a gift from her, one her brother built.”
Oh dearGod,I was going to faint. The telescope I’d used as a child had been built by William Herschel, one of the most brilliant astronomers of our time…the astronomer to theking.My bones felt like they were made of jelly.
“I see her for tea sometimes,” Mama added fondly. “Along with Mary Somerville and Sophie Germain when we are all in town together. Our discussions on science and mathematical law are quite provocative. We share a mutual love for solving mathematical problems in journals.”
Spots converged over my vision. I truly was going to expire from a lack of breath. “MarySomervilleand SophieGermainhave tea withyou?” My voice sounded like it shifted an entire octave from the start to the end.
The duchess looked at me as if I were addlebrained. “Are you unwell, Rosalin? Should I summon Dr. Barker?”
No. No, Mama. I am decidedlynotwell.
Because my own quiet, don’t-make-a-fuss, fashion-obsessed, marriage-minded mother was close friends with my own personal heroes and not just a few faceless charity friends. And she had them over fortea.“May I…Would it be possible to join you sometime?”
“Of course, Rosalin. You’re welcome whenever you like. I’m sure your contributions on the subjects would be appreciated, especially after your recent stint at Trinity. They would find that extremely diverting, especially Sophie, who I recalled might have used a male pseudonym for her analysis and number-theory work in France.”
