Chapter Two
Mayfair, London
Miss Catherine Pickwick sat in her father’s study, trying to make sense of his crabbed handwriting on his latest batch of notes as she attempted to transcribe them into an orderly outline.
He was a professor at Cambridge in Ancient Roman studies and hoped to write a research paper while home during the Christmastide holidays, since he’d have no students to shepherd or keep an eye on, and no student work to mark up.
Frankly, she rather thought her father would research something until the day he died, for he found so much enjoyment in the process. At times, he would even forget the world around him in the hunt for knowledge.
Perhaps that was where she’d learned her love of books and manuscripts.
“Ah, there you are, Catherine.”
She glanced up as her father came into the room.
A barrel-chested man with thinning blond hair and a pair of half-moon spectacles perched often at the tip of his nose.
Today he wore a brown tweed jacket that stretched across his shoulders and a brown velvet waistcoat that strained over his ever-widening stomach.
The golden chain of his pocket watch glimmered in the candlelight.
“Good afternoon, Papa. I’d wondered where you’d gone.”
“Just in from the Reading Room at the British Museum. I’m afraid I was engrossed in a few tomes there and lost track of the time.
” He came around the side of the desk and glanced at her progress.
“I adore how your mind works. When you provide me outlines and talking points, writing papers or giving speeches come infinitely easier for me.”
“Order sometimes allows more creativity.” She rose from his chair to allow him to sit there. Instead, she settled into a leather chair across from the desk. “You should leave off with this for a bit. The Christmastide season will soon be upon us, and we both know how much you enjoy that.”
She did as well, but it hadn’t been the same since her mother died.
“I do. Right now, my mind is consumed with all things Roman.” He gave her a wink.
“In Roman times, the harsh British winter was split in half by the festival of Saturnalia, the midwinter date of the Julian Calendar. As the days grow colder and the nights draw close, our Christmas is something to look forward to in those bleak months. While the Christians of the world celebrate Christmas as the day of Jesus Christ’s birth, this was not always the purpose of the holiday. ”
Cate nodded, for she’d heard the lecture many times before. “How interesting, Papa. Please continue.” It fed her father’s ego, and she tamped down a giggle as he warmed to his topic.
“It started as a farmer’s religious festival to encourage and pray for the harvest of the coming year; its popularity grew and spread throughout the Roman Empire.
This holiday break involved drinking, dancing, decorations, gifts and entertainment with family, friends, and neighbors.
” He opened an ornamental box on his desktop, removed a bit of snuff, then tamped it down into the ivory bowl of his pipe.
“The festival of Saturnalia gave us the lighting of candles—called Cerei—and the idea of bringing evergreen tree boughs and branches indoors. In particular, the hiding of a silver sixpence in the Christmas pudding can be traced back to Roman times.”
“Now that is interesting. You haven’t added that point to this story before.”
He grinned. “I like to see if you are paying attention at times.” With another wink, he continued his tale.
“The lucky Roman who discovered the hidden coin in the cake was then pronounced the lord or lady of the festival—Saturnalicius princeps—whose job it was to cause mischief and entertainment. The Roman invasion introduced Ancient Britain to these holiday traditions and now these familiar celebrations have filtered down throughout history, remaining long after the Christian conversion and even the collapse of the Ancient Roman Empire.”
“Fascinating as always, Papa.”
“Indeed.” He nodded. “So you see, anyone who says Christmas is strictly a Christian holiday is much mistaken.” Then he put the mouthpiece of his pipe between his lips, lit a match, set it to the snuff, and puffed a few times until it began to smolder.
After extinguishing the match, he laid it into a small bowl in the tray where his pipe had rested.
“Oh, and on the subject of Ancient Rome, I’ve come into possession of a couple of artifacts I bought from a farmer who’d unearthed buried Roman treasures on his farm a few years ago.
” Smoke drifted up to wreath his face. “I plan to present them to the British Museum should my paper be accepted by the Archeological Society of London.”
“I’m so proud of you, Papa. Of course the paper will be accepted.”
When he eased back in his chair, the springs protested. “I know you are, poppet, but I think we both know that I won’t live forever.” Wisps of smoke slowly curled toward the ceiling.
“Unfortunately.” Cate sobered. “But now is not the time to talk of that.”
“Or it’s the perfect time.” He shot her a speaking glance. “You are well past the age that grandchildren are possible…”
All gaiety fled. “Oh, please, not this again.” Besides, it was humiliating, especially since the years had passed and there was nothing she could do about it.
“I always thought I had the time to let a man court me and then to marry, perhaps travel the world before having children, but…” She shrugged.
No sense in mourning for something she’d never truly lost. “I filled my days with other things. There is no shame in it.”
“I well know the feeling.” Her father chuckled. Pipe smoke continued to drift and pool in clouds at the ceiling. “People like us gain satisfaction from knowledge and studying and the ancient world when we should pay attention to the modern one.”
Slowly, she nodded. “Mama warned me about just this. I should have listened, especially since part of my time was taken up with being a governess.” Twice. To horrible, spoiled children. Even now it made her shiver.
“Yet you are nine and thirty, poppet. It’s time to have love in your life, to experience that at least once.”
“Ha.” She snorted. “Love was how I landed into trouble before.”
Oh, God, how she’d courted trouble and scandal.
Was it her fault she’d been hired by handsome men to instruct their broods?
Where she’d delighted in teaching geography, Latin, and cultures from other societies all over the world, her first employer had delighted in seducing her one rainy night when his wife had gone visiting her sister in Surrey and she’d taken the children.
Cate had been young and na?ve and didn’t want to say no to an earl, but that was no excuse.
She might have lost her innocence, but knowledge was knowledge, and she took to bed sport with alacrity and enthusiasm. That had been a glorious week… until the lady of the house had come home and the servants tattled.
As expected, Cate had been sacked with references, though, because the woman had been a student of her father’s.
The second incident was just as much of a disaster, only this time it was she who’d done the seducing, for the ambassador had worn spectacles, and they were a weakness of hers.
That affair had lasted six months, for he was often away from London, but eventually, it was he who’d let her go because of guilt and the betrayal of his wife.
As well as a pregnancy scare on her part that hadn’t amounted to anything.
After she lost the second governess position, she’d gone to work at a lending library. Books were never disappointing and never caused heartbreak or incurred a betrayal of her body.
And so the years had passed.
Her father chuckled. “Neither of those times were love, my girl. Merely lust.”
“We’ll never know, but they were quite confusing and messy. I thought myself in love with the ambassador, at least.”
“Life is quite like that.” He frowned then rested his pipe on the plate. “I would like to see you at least on the path of being courted by the year’s end, my dear. Humor an old man.”
“But…”
“You are my only child, and I want your future settled, to have the kind of union your mother and I shared. There is nothing like having that special person at your side, who truly understands you, and you rub on well together through all corners of life.”
Her parents’ union had been a beautiful thing.
“Dear Papa, don’t worry. I possess enough charm that I can completely enchant a man if one comes my way who proves moderately interesting this Christmastide season.
” She came around his desk and placed a kiss on the top of his balding head.
“I’ll remind you again, I won’t marry unless there is love. Anything else is a waste of time.”
Was her parents’ union too hard to achieve?
She didn’t know, but it was a goal. Then she glanced at the time piece suspended on a gold chain around her neck.
On the other side of the watch face was a small mirror.
“Oh, heavens, I need to scoot. I’m working the afternoon shift at the lending library, but I should be home for dinner. ”
“Try not to get drowned with the rain.” Though we waved her away, he was already engrossed in his notes.
*
As it turned out, it was quite a busy day at the library, where she’d helped returning patrons as well as new ones find books they were compatible with and interested in.