They had beenat home in Somerset for a month and as the fear of Lily’s illness faded, the idea of Lord Harveston took over Cordelia’s thoughts.
She had thought long and hard about him. Cordelia was near certain that he felt something for her. Some sort of feeling that was stronger than his interest in intellectual matters. Some feeling that would cause him to cast aside any ideas he may have had about choosing someone as deep into facts and information as he was.
However, that might not hold through a lifetime.
She would not take the chance that it would not hold.
When Cordelia had been buoyed by her success at the literary salon, she had been encouraged to take her education in hand. She wished to know more than she did. Dear Mr. Lackington had found her all sorts of interesting books—histories of Shakespeare, flora that could be found in her neighborhood, and a variety of books about the kings and queens of England.
After serious thought on the matter of her mind and the knowledge it currently stored, compared to Lord Harveston’s mind, she realized that these pleasant meanderings on subjects that interested her would not be sufficient.
She must turn herself into a proper intellectual. Cordelia was certain she could do it. All her tutors had said, one way or another, that she was capable of learning anything if she would just apply herself.
So, she would apply herself.
During the day, she very determinedly locked herself away in the library and read books and papers. Her mind was getting filled with all sorts of information.
Though, she did notice that it was far easier to remember what the information was when it was a subject she was interested in. Those subjects tended to have people involved in them. Some of the non-peopled facts only seemed to make a brief stop in her mind, rather like a change of horses at an inn. There for a quarter hour and then speeding off into the distance, never to be seen again.
She admired her own discipline, though. It was no small thing to ignore the laughter from the drawing room, or to see everyone marching off to Faversham Hall or to a picnic.
Nevertheless, she was determined.
Not so determined that she would miss dinner though. The house was exceedingly lively with Conbatten, Rosalind, Viola, and Lord Baderston in it, and then Beatrice and Van Doren so often walking over from the Hall. And then of course, there was Bess and her pup, who they’d since named Princess Imogen, and the cats—Cupcake, Mischief, The Duchess, and Pandemonium—ranging round everywhere, and then their dear parrot Chester, who carried on shouting murder at anybody who passed his cage in the drawing room.
Lord Darling had arrived safe and sound, thanks to the good care of Charlie’s uncle. He’d since been introduced to the dairy cows and had hit it off terrifically with them. Clara, a dear old thing, had taken him in hand the same day he arrived. When Lord Darling got too energetic for the cows’ liking, Clara would gently knock him on the head.
“How goes your studies, my dear?” the earl asked from his end of the table.
“Very well, Papa,” Cordelia said.
“I could not do it, Cordy,” Juliet said. “I should fall asleep with a book in my lap.”
“Dare I ask what it is you are studying?” Conbatten asked.
“I am looking at a wide range of subjects,” Cordelia said. “For example, today I read a Royal Society paper about volcanoes. A Scot has been studying them and the Earl of Buchan has recommended him to the society. The gentleman hopes to provide information to people so they will not be killed in an eruption.”
“As we do not have any volcanoes in England, may I ask what collecting this information is for?” Van Doren asked.
“To inform my mind, for my own edification,” Cordelia said, glancing at her sisters and her aunt. They might know why she was spending all her days in the library, but nobody else did. She planned to keep it that way.
“Some of us care about what happens to people living next to a mountain that might blow up at any moment,” Juliet said, narrowing her eyes at Van Doren.
“I will eat my boots for breakfast if you care about it,” Van Doren said.
“Tell your cook to heat up a frying pan,” Juliet said in a rather frightening tone.
“I can’t think when was the last time I thought about volcanoes,” Darden said. “Dashed inconvenient to live nearby one of them.”
“I can tell you from firsthand experience,” Miss Mayton said, dabbing her lips with her napkin, “when I was in Italy, I often feared some fellow would throw himself into Mount Vesuvius over me. Therewerethreats. Though, I understand it would have been a long walk up, so that was always comforting.”
“Well now, if Cordelia wishes to explore any suitable topic to enlarge her mind,” the earl said jovially, “she has my full approval.”
“Thank you, Papa,” Cordelia said.
“Yes,thank you, Papa,” Juliet said, staring at Van Doren.
Beatrice, looking vastly amused, said, “Dear Aunt, will you be reading to us this evening?”
