Chapter Two
To explain all nature is too difficult a task for any one man or even for any one age.
—Isaac Newton
Everyone’s going to know.
Gritting my teeth, I swallowed past the lump of fear lodged in my throat that was growing larger by the second and shoved my fake spectacles up my nose.
No one’s going to know.
I tugged on my too-tight cravat as I strode confidently across the perfectly manicured grounds of Trinity College toward my new lodgings.
Well, toward Lord Ansel’s new temporary residence.
He, ergo me, would have a quiet place of his own to study for a few days per week…
and of course, to keep all my academic contraband away from prying eyes at our London home.
I’d have to be careful, but I’d found that with meticulous planning down to the minute and obsessive attention to detail, the most impossible feats could be achieved.
While Cambridge was a good sixty miles from London, it was close to our ducal seat in Newmarket.
I could go from the college to London—six hours by carriage—without too much undue notice with a small detour.
It was a long ride, but that would give me ample time to study and read through any discussion notes.
Besides, our coachmen were already accustomed to going back and forth from our country seat to London during the season, since my mother had been satisfactorily convinced that I was needed there for important charity work with the local parish—which was true for a handful of hours.
The rest of the time, however, was free, and as long as I was back in Mayfair by Friday afternoon in time for my weekend social obligations, what Mama didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Thankfully, with the somber sluggishness of the current season, due to the king’s passing, I would not be missed in London during the week, though I had to be diligent with any of my social appearances on the weekends.
While my father was mostly oblivious or absent, my mother would notice if I didn’t show my face at the larger events.
Especially since this was my supposed last-ditch chance to find an acceptable husband.
I ignored the guilt that slid through me.
Falsely assuming a peer’s identity had to be a crime, even if it was one’s own cousin. The newspapers would have a field day. My father would be furious. My mother would have conniptions. Lady Rosalin Chen would be absolutely, unequivocally ruined.
No one will find out, I repeated firmly, rolling my neck.
Fortunately, the housing for my cousin’s attendance at Cambridge University was already paid for by my father—the general rule was that if an aristocrat resided at the college for two years, any degree conferred upon him was automatic and he would not have to take the exams that everyone else did.
Technically, Ansel had fulfilled that residency requirement, though he had yet to formally withdraw, which worked out perfectly for me.
Because while he was off on his secret grand tour, I’d take his place here.
It was up to me to seize the day.
Seize my day.
So here I was…gripping it in a chokehold, despite fighting to cast up my accounts with each step while the cloth padding in my shoulders shifted precariously beneath my coat. Inhaling deeply, I slowed my gait and tightened my spine. My disguise would work. It had to work.
But everything felt dodgy…from my stuffed shoulders to the spectacles that refused to stay put on the slope of my nose, and the false facial hair that suddenly felt quite itchy.
I pressed a damp finger to each of my carefully applied sideburns.
The fake mustache tickled my nose and the too-tight cap that held in my braided, pinned wealth of hair also felt nailed to my skull.
Better than the alternative of being too loose, but it still hurt.
You’re fine, Roz. Everything’s fine. Breathe.
My camouflage was top-notch. I had a scrupulous plan. I was aggressively prepared.
Besides, it wasn’t as though anyone would connect Ansel and me, especially at a different college.
His preferred fields of study were philosophy and the classics, and my true love was astronomy.
The forged ducal paperwork had made the enrollment switch easy.
It wasn’t common to change colleges within the university, but having a powerful, rich duke for a father tended to make all obstacles disappear.
I was also well aware that forging my papa’s signature and using his wax seal was also a crime.
I cringed with a sigh.
Add that to my growing list of transgressions…
Speaking of the duke, I was also counting on the fact that my father would be much too busy traveling to keep a close eye on the expense ledgers.
At the end of the Easter term in June, no one would be the wiser…
and I would have had a small, unforgettable taste of university life.
And by the time Papa’s steward reconciled the accounts, the term would be over.
Perhaps then, if any concern arose, I could convince him that it was an accounting error.
These things happened all the time—and a reminder of the duke’s generous donations to the college would soothe all ruffled parties.
In the meantime, I’d have my own unique grand tour.
Confidence bolstered, I fixed my cravat again—how did boys endure these?
—and adjusted my billowing dark robes. A quick glance in the windowpane of my hired carriage earlier had confirmed that I looked very much like my cousin and not a girl in disguise.
Now it was up to me to carry the performance.
I was well-versed in masks, having worn them for years, and this would be like all the others.
A show, nothing more.
Right now, I was Lord Ansel, free and unencumbered by any horrid marital expectations.
I snorted softly. I’d have to get used to being addressed as a lord, because I would not be readily answering to my cousin’s name.
Mimicking his walk, which for all intents and purposes wasn’t that different from mine, I strolled forward like I didn’t have a care in the world.
The most notable differences were in the attitude—a lifted chin, a slight swagger with each step, and the innate confidence of a peer who knew the world was his oyster.
An oyster that would be mine. For a couple months, at least.
Spine snapping tight as I passed through the majestic and awe-inspiring Great Gate leading into the expansive Great Court of Trinity College, I let myself take it in.
I was finally here. Groups of young men dressed similarly to me crossed my path, and for a moment, I was worried that I’d be called out as a charlatan, but other than a few passing harried glances, no one seemed to notice me.
Good, that was good.
Resisting the urge to make sure my facial hair was in place yet again, I adjusted my eyeglasses and pressed on.
A stone fountain sat at the center of bright quadrangles of manicured lawn as I made my way across toward Nevile’s Court, near the library, where my rooms were located.
Though as I opened the door with my heavy key, it wasn’t so much plural as it was a single, tiny space with a bed and a desk.
Shelves lined one whitewashed wall, and a large leaded-glass window the opposite.
A table with a washbasin stood to my right, and a small fireplace took up the third wall facing the door, though with the spring upon us, it wouldn’t be needed.
My school clothes—all conveniently purloined from Ansel’s armoire—had been neatly stored in the narrow wardrobe, and all my notebooks and textbooks on celestial mechanics were strewn over my bed.
I grinned to myself, a breathless giggle escaping me that I quickly swallowed before shutting my door, lest I be overheard and exposed for the fraud I was.
Removing my outer gown, cap, and gold tassels, I loosened the cravat that had been choking me and unfastened my coat and waistcoat.
Even with the extra wadded cloth padding the shoulders, it was a snug fit over my tightly wrapped bosom.
I heaved the first full breath I’d had since leaving my house an hour ago.
Thankfully, my personal groom and lady’s maid were both sworn to silence and amply compensated with my pin money for their confidence.
I smiled fondly. Henry and Anna were in love and planned to marry, thanks to my own intervention a summer ago, which had allowed them to spend more time together while tending to me.
As a result, there wasn’t anything either of them wouldn’t do for me, including keeping my secrets.
Watching them fall in love had made my heart twist with envy.
But while I’d been deeply envious of their blossoming affair, it had also given me a last ember of hope that there still might be someone out there for me.
My very own perfect person—a gentleman who would appreciate my fastidious mind and quizzical nature, who would meet me at every quarter, challenge me and inspire me, one whom I would adore and be adored by in turn…
Then again, chances of that happening while I pretended to be Ansel were slim.
Sighing, I glanced at my timepiece and yelped.
I was due to meet my tutor, who supposedly had a room at this location as well.
While classes and courses of study weren’t formal, Ansel had said that impromptu discussions and debates tended to pop up all over the college.
Private study was customary, and my assigned tutor would guide me through any difficult texts or mathematical problems. Ansel hadn’t known who would be assigned to me, and I’d only received the name of my tutor after my cousin had left for France.
Tarik St. Clair.
My hands practically vibrated with excitement as I packed my books into my satchel, dressed, and refastened my discarded gown. Then I rushed out into the hallway, only to crash into a large mountain, my bag and books flying across the polished wood floors.