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Chapter 11
“Are you still with me, Richard?”
Richard looked up from his textbook. Professor Ainsley was watching him with a curious expression. Richard put down his pen and straightened up.
“I’m still here, Professor.”
“It doesn’t look like it. You’ve been staring at that page for some time. I don’t think you’ve been paying attention.”
Richard thought about denying it, but the older man was much sharper than anyone he knew, even Cohen. And since the page he had been meant to be writing out his notes was covered in nothing but the occasional ink splodge, he couldn’t say that he was thinking about what to write.
He winced and reached for the blotting paper.
“Apologies, Professor. I didn’t realize I was not focusing.” He fought back a yawn and rubbed his eyes. “I think I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Why not?”
Richard chose his words carefully.
“My mind was turning over practically everything. It was difficult to fall asleep completely.”
Ainsley looked like he was going to argue that, but he didn’t. Instead, he sighed and put down the magnifying glass he had been using to look at an insect he had pinned to a board.
“I suppose I have been overworking you. But this exhibition is really important, and I want everything to be perfect.”
“I’m not blaming you for it, Sir,” Richard said quickly. “It’s just me not able to let my work go when I go home for that day.”
“You sound far too much like me that it’s frightening.” Ainsley looked at the clock. “It’s about lunchtime. Why don’t you go to that tearoom we’ve frequented and get a few things for lunch? You know what I like. And make sure you go through the gardens so you can really get some fresh air. I think you need it.”
Richard didn’t want to leave. He had so much work to do. But the thought of going outside and stretching his legs sounded like a really good idea. He got to his feet.
“I might just do that, Professor.”
“Just make sure that you keep note of how much you spend so I can pay you back.” Ainsley went back to inspecting the beetle. “Nothing too expensive, mind you. I’m not made of money.”
Richard bit back a smile as he picked up his coat and hat and left the room, heading through the university and into the street. His employer was a good man with a brilliant mind, but he was a bit of a miser. He was happy if he managed to get something for free.
Then again, considering they were trying to save everything possible to go on this expedition – it didn’t just come from donations – it was a bit of a wince to part with any money. Richard could understand; he had been like that many times before when scrimping to save up what he could for Europe. If his father hadn’t helped him, he wouldn’t have been able to make the journey at all.
At least his father was happy about Richard’s position. He said he was proud of his son and made Richard promise to ask for help if they ever needed it. From what Cohen had said in hisletters, Thomas hadn’t been too impressed with that declaration. He really thought Richard’s job was a waste of time, nothing useful for anyone.
Richard saw it differently. It was a job; he was getting paid, although it wasn’t much right now, and he was preparing for an incredible journey to a continent he had read about and always wanted to visit. In his head, the world was there to be explored, and it should be. Richard wanted to do that and see everything first-hand.
At least, if he had a job, he wouldn’t need to rely so much on a pittance when Thomas began handing out the allowance once he was in charge. If there was any money left. Richard had a feeling that the money left over after his father’s death would be used to further himself in Society, and Thomas would be making sure he could snag the noblewoman he desired to be his wife. Then he really would be nobility.
Richard had tried to tell him many times that it wasn’t going to happen. Even if he was wealthy, no rich lady was going to see him as perfect husband material. They were trying to marry up, not down. But Thomas said it would happen, and he would make sure he had the best wife possible. He kept saying that he would marry long before Richard, teasing him for not having a woman in sight or even in mind to be his wife. He also mocked that there wouldn’t be any woman in the world who would marry an awkward professor’s assistant who was more comfortable up to his knees in water searching for newts.
Not every woman. There was one person, but Richard didn’t think that would go down well. Not when Isabel Moore was looking to marry up herself to save her and her mother from their current situation.
It had come as a bit of a shock when Richard awoke in the middle of the night with a sudden realization that he was in love with her. How was that possible? He had only met her twice since he came back from Europe, and on one of those occasions, he had kissed her.
Richard didn’t know what possessed him to do that in the bright sunlight where anyone might have seen them, but just one look at Isabel in a beautiful dress with her shining eyes and her enthusiasm coming off her in waves, he hadn’t been able to help himself.
He had expected her to push him away and slap him. He would deserve it. But Isabel had kissed him back. The little girl who had blossomed into a stunning young woman had kissed him back. Richard hadn’t wanted to stop, but he was acutely aware of where they were. Even hidden under the branches and away from the path, they would have been seen. Richard didn’t want to get Isabel into trouble.
He just couldn’t help himself. Something insane had taken hold of him, and Richard found himself wanting to do something wild. He had done it before on the continent, sneaking away to catch a cheeky kiss with a lovely young lady. But this was Isabel, someone he had grown up with.
Where, in two meetings, had it suddenly become something he wanted to do with her?
