Chapter 25
ELLA COULD NOT tear her eyes from the stage as Mr. Bauer placed his hands on Abraham Abernathy’s head.
She wanted to melt into the floor.
Fearful of making eye contact with anyone, she kept her gaze straight ahead. She dared not look at Phoebe, who sat at her side, or, heaven forbid, Mr. Rowe.
Were Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Bauer doing this to persuade her? Or to prove a point?
Fixed to her seat by utter humiliation, Ella willed her breathing to stay slow and watched the scene play out before her.
On the platform in the great hall, Mr. Bauer ran his fingers over Mr. Abernathy’s head, observed his head from several different angles, and occasionally paused to whisper to Mr. Gutt. Every time Mr. Abernathy snuck a glance in her direction, she wanted to slink back into her chair.
After the assessment concluded, Mr. Bauer turned to the audience.
“I attest that I’ve never met Mr. Abernathy prior to this event.
I’ve examined hundreds of heads, and I must say, I’m quite impressed with this one.
This man has a strongly developed sense of domestic propensities—organs that reside in the occipital region.
This tells me his priorities are with family.
He possesses a strong paternal tendency—his children will be a driving force in his life, as will his wife. He has strong and loyal friendships.
“Along the frontal lobe we learn that he has a strong sense for things of beauty, and here, on this part of the forehead, I see that he is witty and lighthearted. As always, no head is perfectly fashioned, and I can tell by this indentation here that he has little fondness for music, and he will, sadly, probably never master a musical instrument.”
At this, satisfied murmurs rose from the guests, and a round of applause rang out from the group.
Ella could only stare. What was wrong with everyone? Did they not see the fault in this? All of Mr. Bauer’s assessments had been directed toward matters of marriage and the heart. Clearly this farce was intended to feed the rumors of an impending union between her and Mr. Abernathy.
Mr. Bauer conducted two more assessments, but it was not enough time to calm her racing thoughts, and by the end of the evening’s demonstration, her frustrations soared to new heights.
She had tried to see Mr. Abernathy as a viable option, but her suspicion that he had somehow influenced Mr. Bauer to sway his findings was too much.
When her father was alone, she asked to speak with him.
Once they were in the privacy of his study, her father’s brows drew together in concern. “What is it?”
Her words erupted. “Father, you must discourage Mr. Abernathy. Did you not hear that assessment? Did you not think that intentional? That it was directed to me? Everything Mr. Bauer said about him is a lie.”
“Eleanor,” he soothed, placing his unsteady hands on her shoulders. “You’re getting riled for nothing.”
Emboldened by her conversation with Gabriel, she could not stay quiet. She did not want to end up like his sister—in a situation where she had no voice. No freedom. No future. “I understand what all is at stake, Father, but he is not a match for me.”
“You must calm down. I agree, this reading did seem a bit . . . provoked . . . but do not be too quick to judge.”
A thousand retorts sailed through her mind. She did not want to argue with her father, but how could he be this calm?
“We’ve discussed this ad nauseam.” His steady voice was barely above a whisper, and his pale eyes locked on hers. “I need to know you’re settled.”
“And I need to know that I’m not going to be trapped in a marriage where I’m reduced to—”
“Your future is here, at Keatley Hall,” he interrupted more forcefully. “It’s your legacy. You must protect it. For when I am gone, who will protect you?”
She wanted to scream. How could he not see the error of his judgment?
His voice remained unnervingly low. “I’ve heard rumors about you and Gabriel Rowe being friendly. He’s a nice young man, but he’s hardly the sort who could lead a school like this.”
“Father, I—”
“Hear me out. He might seem attractive, more exciting, but stability, tradition, staying true to our family values—this is what’s important.”
A wave of defeat threatened. Her father had always been so open-minded and encouraged her to blaze new trails.
He cleared his throat and straightened. “Mr. Abernathy and I had a conversation just this afternoon, and despite his concerns about your lack of enthusiasm, I told him again that he had my total blessing. You can expect a proposal from him.”
“Father!”
“It’s for the best.”
“And if I refuse?” she fired back.
He stared at her. The softness in his expression hardened, and his jaw clenched.
“I’ve always been very easygoing with you.
I have let you have your way—to your detriment, I fear.
This must happen, Eleanor. Do you understand?
I know you are angry with me, but in time you’ll see the wisdom.
This is already settled. He will lead the school moving forward, and you will accept it. ”
Gabriel should not be irritated with Bauer’s assessment of Abernathy. But he was.
The hour was late, and he had gathered with some of the men in the billiards room. At the moment, Templeton and Abernathy were engaged in a game, and he stood against the wall, watching.
He was here to observe Bauer to make sure he paid his debt. So why did it bother him that Bauer painted Abernathy as a wholesome, doting husband-to-be? Everyone present had to know that Mr. Milksop’s ability to relate to children was laughable.
Gabriel knew why it bothered him, even though he did not want to admit it.
He liked Ella Wilde.
He liked everything about her.
It angered him that those around her were coercing her into a future he could clearly see was not best for her. It was infuriating.
Abernathy retrieved his jeweled snuff box from his pocket as he waited for Templeton to take his shot. “So, gentlemen, tell me about the hunt. It had to be more interesting than my day.”
Templeton leaned his lanky frame against the table. “Our conquests, such as they were, are nothing compared to yours, for I believe you had a hunt of your own, did you not? Tell us, how was your walk with Miss Wilde this morning?”
Abernathy opened the box, pinched the snuff between his fingers, inhaled it deeply, and then put the box away. “A dismal failure, I’m sorry to report.”
Templeton smirked. “Hate to hear it but not surprised.”
Abernathy lined up his billiards shot. “She was not interested in a single thing I said. I brought up every topic I could think of that might be of interest to a woman like her—the new species of turtles, Prussian history—and I found nothing.”
“Give it time,” encouraged Templeton. “She’ll come around, especially with the right encouragement.”
“Speaking of encouragement,” said Abernathy, grinning as he stepped away from the table, “Mr. Wilde and I have spoken extensively on the matter. He’s certain she will come around and see the benefit for all involved.”
Templeton guffawed. “Very romantic of you, Abernathy. I’m surprised she’s not falling at your feet.”
Chuckles rounded the room.
“Make all the jokes you will, Templeton, but her father would like to see her settled as soon as possible, given his current state. I’d be lying, though, if I said I didn’t have a few concerns.”
At this Gabriel had to interject. “Concerns? Such as?”
“Oh, you know. What is said about her mother. About Miss Wilde herself. She does have different interests than most ladies and is far more outspoken. What if her oddities only increase over the years?”
Gabriel’s defenses rose, and yet he kept his comment jocular. “Perhaps she just does not prefer you.”
Templeton burst out with laughter, but Abernathy’s expression grew taut. “Not all of us can wink and have the ladies fall at our feet, Rowe.”
Gabriel shrugged. “I assure you that’s never happened to me. A word of advice, though. If I wanted to win a lady’s affection, the last thing I’d do is talk of turtles and Prussian conquests.”
Templeton snorted again.
Abernathy forced his long, white fingers through his thinning brown hair.
“I do wonder if I might have competition for Miss Wilde’s affections.
You seemed quite eager to speak with her after the hunt.
A private walk? Private conversations? Considering that you are a skeptic of phrenology, not to mention that your family has not been a part of the Society for years, people might question your motives for being here. ”
The tension in the room grew, and the other men began looking in their direction.
Gabriel had to defuse it.
He laughed nonchalantly. “What are anyone’s motives for being here, I wonder? Your personal life is not my business, nor is mine yours.”
The conversation shifted from Miss Wilde, but even as the topic returned to the hunt, Gabriel reprimanded himself.
He almost let his emotions affect the work he was doing.
The last thing he wanted to do was draw more censure to Ella.
He was walking a very fine line, and he knew one thing for certain: He needed to be more careful moving forward.