His fingers crept up into my hair, the strands sliding from their pins like rivers of ink, and he groaned as he speared through the silken locks. When we broke apart, he kept pressing kisses to my throat, one hand tethered in my hair and the other running down the length of my spine, before returning to my lips for one last taste.
“Bloody hell, I’m completely obsessed with you,” he muttered against my mouth.
I smiled. “The feeling is mutual.”
My entire body was flying in the clouds when the door to the combination room opened, and I nearly shrieked as one of the tutors let out a scream of his own.
“Sorry, don’t mind us!” Tarik cried as he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the door. I snorted at the tutor’s alarmed expression as we tore past. His eyes widened as they settled on me—agirl—in the middle of their prized male sanctuary. Ring the bells! Fetch the pitchforks!
I snorted at the thought of a Jezebel alert going off, warning all and sundry to beware the female wiles lurking in their midst. It truly wasn’t funny, but the fear and subsequent demonization of women was categorically absurd.Suspicion of evil, my foot.It was simply a way to keep women in the spaces where men thought we should belong.
The kitchen…the bedchamber…the nursery.
Where I belonged was going to bemychoice, because I wasready to kick that archaic expectation right into the Thames. Intrepid women like Wang Zhenyi, Caroline Herschel, Sophie Germain, and Émilie du Châtelet had already carved inroads into male-dominated spaces like mathematics, science, philosophy, and astronomy, and earned recognition for their work.
Just like them, I was going to add my name to the history books.
We caught up with everyone near the Great Gate, where our family carriage with the fancy Delmont ducal crest waited at the main entrance to the college. My father was standing in deep conversation with Ansel. It looked serious but not contentious. I glanced up at the arch that I’d walked through on my very first day here with a strange sense of nostalgia. That moment had changed the trajectory of my life. Not wanting to say goodbye, I dragged my feet to where my friends stood.
I hugged the twins first. “I would attempt to tell you to be good, but I don’t want to waste my breath. Instead, I’ll just say make good choices.”
“We’re not that bad, Roz,” Klaus said, eyes twinkling.
Kristof rolled his eyes. “Speak for yourself, I always make excellent choices.”
“Try not to get rusticated, will you? And you better write me, or I’ll tell Blake never to speak to either of you again.” The horrified looks on their faces made me burst out laughing.
I hugged the quiet Harold next and wished him the best with his remaining years. We hadn’t gotten especially close, but I liked him. And after Will’s revelation about Harold’s position here, I also had a sneaking suspicion he was the scout I’d never met,which had worked out well for both of us. “Thank you for everything you did for me, Harold,” I said quietly, squeezing his shoulder. “I appreciated all of it.”
He smiled with a shy nod. “You’re welcome, Roz.”
Will received one last bone-crushing hug before I disappeared into the coach and let the first tears come. Goodness, I would miss the boys terribly. I’d miss their antics and racing on the River Cam. I’d miss our deep conversations and teasing banter. I’d miss all the heated debates and the luncheon sessions.
After the farewells were made, the duke, Ansel, and Tarik climbed into the carriage. My father sat beside me, facing the other two. I leaned my head against my father’s arm. “Thank you, Papa.”
“You’re welcome, my girl.”
The stress of the morning had taken it out of me, and the gentle rocking of the carriage made my eyes drift shut. Before I fell asleep, I could hear the three of them talking in low voices about Tarik’s social club, and what he hoped to accomplish. I wanted to perk up to say what an exceptionally clever idea I thought it was, especially with the dearth of public intellectual salons, beyond private drawing rooms, for women.
But I knew Tarik could hold his own. He was a prodigy, after all.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Useful Things are justly preferable to useless Speculations.
—Isaac Newton
Tarik was once more staying at Ansel’s pied-à-terre at The Albany. It would be for the rest of the season until he got his plans together. As it turned out, on the journey back to London, my father had been very intrigued with his idea for his club and was willing to back him on it, once Tarik nailed down more of the pertinent details. That made me very happy, since he would not be going back to France, at least not immediately, unless he couldn’t find a job.
I had no doubt he would prevail either way.
I glanced over at him, where he was writing copious notes in a small book, ink stains all over his fingers while calculating sums of projected figures in his head. His sleeves were folded back over his elbows, and I lost myself in the mesmerizing landscape of his defined forearms, from his long, elegant fingers to his slender wrists and the ropy musculature that climbed to his rolled cuffs. It was unfair how delicious they were.
“You’re ogling his arms again,” Anna whispered into my ear.
“I was not! I was staring into space. Far away, beyond the walls of this building. Thinking about the practical application of this telescope,” I scoffed, dragging my eyes away and focusing on finalizing the telescope with its brass fittings. The mirrors had been secured, including the inner one, which was mounted at a forty-five-degree angle facing the primary mirror. The eyepiece was the next bit to be attached and then aligned with the internal mirror. Once that was done, connecting the focuser with its sliding tube was the last step.
“Sure, you were.” She handed me a handkerchief with a mischievous grin. “For the drool.”
