“Oh,” he said dismissively, “those sorts of situations are like boxing.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“In boxing, you’ve got to react to what’s in front of you, to what’s coming at you in the moment. You might need to anticipate your opponent’s next move, see your way through to how the bout will end, but that’s as far ahead as you need think. And there’s no recall of past events required whatsoever. It’s quite easy.”
“It isn’t easy for everyone,” Lord Featherfinch said. “It feels easy to you because you’re good at it. I, on the other hand, could train at Gentleman Jackson’s boxing club for a year and still not be a decent fighter.”
“Well, that’s not a character flaw; that’s just your nature.”
“That is exactly what we’re saying,” Lord Marsden said. “Perhaps you aren’t naturally academically inclined. That isn’t a character flaw, either. It unfortunately happens to be the sort of inclination that is rewarded by the social strata in which we find ourselves, but that is neither here nor there.”
Archie looked confused, but he shook his head and his usual easygoing countenance returned. “Why do I feel as if my parents are in conference with the headmaster here? Let us change the subject.” He turned to Olive. “What say you, Miss Olive?”
“I think my sister and your friends are correct,” she said, quietly but assuredly. “There are many different types of intelligence in this world.”
Clementine appreciated that Olive was adding her voice to the chorus, but Archie clearly wanted to move on, so she said, “Oh, I have some news you’ve yet to hear, Lord Harcourt! I’ve entered the turtle races in Doveborough.”
* * *
“I’ve entered the turtle races in Doveborough”?
Archie was having trouble making sense of that sentence. Still, he’d gotten what he’d wanted: a new topic of conversation. A wildly new one, in fact. “I beg your pardon?”
“Well,Ihaven’t entered them. That would be ridiculous,” Clementine said.
“One would think,” he deadpanned, though he was still confused.
“I’ve enteredHermesin the turtle races.”
“Dare I ask who Hermes is?”
“Hermes is a turtle, of course. Don’t be daft.”
“You have a turtle named Hermes. After the god? The speedy one with wings on his feet?”
“Well, the name is aspirational,obviously.”
“Doveborough has an annual fall festival,” Olive said, taking pity on Archie in his befuddled state. “Apparently there was once an event involving turtledoves, as a nod to the name of the village, but somehow the ‘dove’ bit got dropped, and the contest evolved into a turtle race. No one could quite explain how or why.”
“So Doveborough is host to turtle races of mysterious origin, and Miss Morgan has entered them.” Of course she had. Who would expect Clementine Morgan to learn of the existence of turtle races andnotthrow her hat into the ring?
“You told me to entertain myself,” Clementine said with just a hint of pique in her tone.
“I believe I also told you not to go to Doveborough by yourself.” He did hear the way that sounded, rather disagreeably paternalistic. But he would be damned if anything happened to the Morgans while they were under his care.
“I wasn’t by myself. Olive and Lords Featherfinch and Marsden went with me to Doveborough that first day, which was when I found out about the race, and then Olive and Lord Featherfinch accompanied me again today when I entered it.”
Archie turned censoriously toward Effie, though he wasn’t really sure why. If Clem and Olive were bent on going to the village, he was glad they’d had Effie with them.
“I needed to collect the dressing gowns I’d ordered,” Effie, sensing Archie’s disapproval, said defensively.
“And you did not think to mention these turtle races to me.”
“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” Effie said with a sniff. He turned to Clementine. “I like your chances, Miss Morgan. Hermes is shockingly swift. I’m not sure the name is merely aspirational.”
“You’ve met Hermes,” Archie said.
“I wonder if it’s down to his size,” Simon said. “He’s smaller and therefore more nimble? Is that possible?”
