Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
After Henry climbed into the passenger seat of Jason’s car and wished him a stiff good evening, and Jason ordered him to put on his seat belt and was obliged to demonstrate the operation of the buckle, it occurred to Henry that the man might have a very dark view of what had transpired.
As Jason drove away, Henry said, “I hope it goes without saying that I in no way threatened Miss Novak, let alone injured her—well, other than inadvertently injuring her feelings, which—”
“That’s none of my business,” Jason said.
He was quite right. Henry should not be disclosing Rose’s private matters to her business associates. Once upon a time, he’d had a strict sense of decorum. Now, at every turn, he was conducting himself miserably.
Jason added, “But if I thought you’d hurt Rose, I wouldn’t be taking you to a hotel.”
Henry didn’t know what the other option would’ve been, but took glum solace in the fact that Jason did seem to have some concern for Rose personally, and was not only using her for his own mysterious ends.
They continued in silence for a few minutes, broken only by Jason muttering a curse under his breath when another car darted in front of them. Henry couldn’t help but notice that they passed by one hotel, and then another. After the third one, Henry could no longer contain himself.
“Moreover, I would never even inflict my presence upon Miss Novak against her will, so you need not put distance between us. Any hotel will do.”
“It’s not that,” Jason said. “I have points at this other place. Plus it’s a better hotel. Griffin and Emily stayed there after the wedding.”
“Ah. Well, thank you.”
“Listen, about meals—”
“Rose gave me the money,” Henry said shortly. “I will return the loan when I can.” How humiliating to have to speak of such things.
“I’m sure we’ll work something out.”
Jason wanted to buy the astrolabe, no doubt.
With Rose rushing him out the door, Henry hadn’t considered the fact that it was still in her apartment.
But Jason went on to explain how he could order food and have it brought to his room.
Henry, receiving this lesson soon after being taught to use a seat belt, gave a huff of frustration.
Jason eyed him askance. “Are you mad at me for explaining things?”
“By no means,” Henry grumbled. “It is only that I assume ordering dinner at a hotel is a fairly straightforward process for most.”
After a few moments, Jason asked, “Did you study anything else, in your time, besides science and mathematics?”
Henry bristled. “I studied Greek, Latin, moral philosophy, logic, history, and everything else you might expect. As I was saying at breakfast, studying the Punic Wars inspired me to create a diversion at the mansion.”
Jason abruptly steered the car into the next lane. Henry couldn’t help but be impressed at how deftly he maneuvered the vehicle. “But I guess as a scientist, studying most of those things was a waste of time.”
Henry scoffed. “The aim of a classical education is produce a fine mind. To enable one to think for oneself, to critique, and to reason. With a proper education, one learns how to learn.”
“Weren’t you already intelligent, though?” Jason asked.
“In my time, that would’ve been a rude question.”
“Still is.”
“I see.” Henry looked out the window at the passing buildings and pedestrians. “As it happens, my intelligence was much remarked upon, well before I began my formal education.”
“So you have high intelligence and a good education that you could apply to any subject,” Jason said. “And you’re starting to apply it to learning about things like quantum physics and multiverses. I’m sure you’ll understand all the basic things like ordering dinner pretty soon.”
Henry grunted. “That is well argued, I admit.”
Hours later, after his dinner, Henry hung the Do Not Disturb sign he’d seen dangling from other guests’ doors. What a convenient idea. What a shame that one could not display it wherever one went, when one wanted to be left to one’s own thoughts.
He stood at the window of his hotel suite, looking at the windows of the opposite building. Some had their curtains open, and he could see people eating dinners, hunching over phones, or watching television; so many lives, stacked neatly in columns and rows, all where they belonged.
Although he’d told Jason he was an intelligent man, he was an idiot. At least about what truly mattered.
He’d been sure, in an intimate, unguarded moment, that Rose half remembered that she had been Charlotte. Passion had impaired his judgment. Just a nudge, he’d thought, would bring it all back. He’d never been more wrong.
He should’ve kept his tongue and bided his time. The memories of a past life might’ve eventually returned to her. And if they had not, he could have dismissed the idea of her reincarnation, counting evidence as happenstance.
His feelings for Rose had in no way depended on this theory being true. He should’ve told her sooner about all the reasons that he loved her. Yes, loved her, even if he could not work out what the next logical step would be.
Would there even be any point in telling her now?
As always, his timing had been terrible.