Chapter Eleven #2
“Some of us nobs can handle our personal hygiene ourselves,” I said. My eyes fell on the enormous stack of books on his side. “Are you planning to start a traveling library or become a book salesman?”
Blue eyes narrowed on me as the coach jolted forward in a smooth rocking motion. “This is a working journey, my lord. A few weeks away won’t make me neglect my duties. Even while we are in London, my job is to make sure that you earn your degree.”
“You do realize that that’s a forgone conclusion?” I replied. “Lords are not required to take the examinations to be honored with a university degree. It’s a formality.”
His right brow rose. “I didn’t take you for a lily-livered weakling. Are you afraid you won’t pass a formal assessment?”
Perhaps I was a little scared of failing, especially if Tarik was going to be the one getting me ready for said assessment.
I didn’t want to fail in front of him or disappoint him by being incompetent.
“Well, we’re not all brilliant Wranglers who have aced the exceedingly arduous and challenging Senate House and Mathematical Tripos examinations, are we? ”
“And how do you think I was able to do that?” He patted the mountain of books beside him. “Patience, attention, and study.”
I scowled. “Says the Fellow.”
“Not yet,” he said. “I still have a few steps, including completing my master’s degree.
You have no reason to be afraid. As far as mathematics, you know the basics.
I’ve seen your answers scribbled to mathematical problems in the periodicals, like what is the square root of one hundred and forty-four and how is it derived, or define the terms diameter, radius, and circumference of a circle?
You already know Latin, so for the classics, I’m certain you’ll be able to handle the translation of a passage of Homer or Virgil.
For moral philosophy and theology, I’d ask you to define the role of the church.
For science, name five of the planets from the solar system or define gravity.
” He shot me a reassuring look. “The latter which you have done brilliantly before. And lastly, for logic, perhaps what is rhetoric and provide an example.”
Snorting, I shook my head at him. “You mean using the pragmatic influence of words, as you have just done, to convince or persuade someone of an argument?”
“Full marks!” He grinned, eyes shining. “See, you’re passing already and you’re not even trying.”
He reached for a scroll I hadn’t noticed that was beside him on the seat, and I stared at him curiously as he unrolled it.
There were several sheets of paper with diagrams, drawings, and numerical markings, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of them upside down, until he pulled and flipped the bottom sheet around.
Was that an illustration of a telescope?
He noticed my stare with a smile. “You asked about being assessed on building your own. Mr. Peacock approved it.”
I gulped. “He did?”
“Yes. While we are in London, you are going to do just that,” Tarik pronounced in a tone that brooked no argument when he saw my face.
“I have a list of requirements for a basic Newtonian reflecting telescope, materials needed, and step-by-step instructions.” He handed them to me across the narrow space.
“Study these for now, and let me know if you have any questions.” He pulled out a notebook and a pencil.
“What will you be doing for the journey, then?” I asked.
“Refining my business plan for my club, from possible available properties for let in London, approximate square footage, architectural designs and a few idea sketches, financial estimates, navigating any legal hurdles, things like that,” he said, pointing to a thick packet with a sheaf of documents.
“Preparation is important in any venture.”
“Oh,” I said, somewhat mollified that I wouldn’t be the only one suffering for hours. “Do you have a name yet? Or will you name it after yourself like all the other gentlemen with clubs?”
He exhaled, turning to a page in his notebook that had a neatly penciled list. “I was thinking of The Collective,” he said. “I wanted something that would provide an idea of what I hoped to accomplish. An assembly of like-minded people—erudite, cultured, refined.”
“The Collective,” I echoed. “It’s simple, yet powerful.”
He circled the name in his book. “Thank you. Now stop stalling. I plan to quiz you on everything in those documents.”
“You wouldn’t!” I frowned at him, but he only lifted his eyebrows.
The next hour or two passed in silence as I perused the scrolls, jotting down notes of my own while attempting to memorize all the different parts of the instrument—eyepiece lens, primary and secondary mirrors, a papier-maché tube, and a wooden mount.
It was a daunting prospect, but the more I read, the more excited I became.
Before it had only been a general idea, but now with everything explained so clearly in front of me, the vision was becoming a reality.
After a while, I glanced up and nearly swallowed my tongue.
I’d been so engrossed in my work that I hadn’t noticed Tarik had removed his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows while he worked.
My breath caught in my throat as my eyes devoured the expanse of rich brown skin, from the elegant fingers I’d already obsessed over to the fascinating topography of his muscular forearms. I’d seen the twins fully shirtless on the River Cam, and not even that could make my mouth drier than it became at the sight of Tarik St. Clair’s bare arms.
Good God, is it boiling in here? Beads of sweat broke out on the back of my neck, and I squirmed uncomfortably, causing the sheaf on my lap to scatter to the floor.
“Are you well?” Tarik asked, leaning down to collect and hand them back to me.
“You took off your coat,” I croaked like an imbecile, gaze darting anywhere but his forearms as I took the papers.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think you would mind.
It’s hot in here.” A line appeared in his forehead at my reaction, which was either frantic or unreasonably hysterical.
He pointed to his coat. “I can put it back on, if you like. Is that a thing? An aristocratic thing I should be aware of? No coat removal in hot coaches?”
“No, no,” I assured him, trying desperately to not ogle him like a predator eyeing its next meal every time he moved his dratted arms. “Only in mixed company, of course. Wouldn’t want to injure a young lady’s delicate sensibilities. It’s a wonderful idea. I shall do the same.”
My words emerged in a nearly unintelligible jumble as I shucked out of my coat as well, trying to ignore the fact that Anna would have conniptions if she had an inkling of what was happening.
Under these layers of satin and wool, I was still me, and not only was I in close quarters with an unmarried gentleman, but I was undressing.
Not that he knew, of course, but the reality still applied.
I was an unwed girl. And clothing was being removed.
It was scandalous in the extreme, and yet, I could not bring myself to care.
In fact, I would be eternally happy if he removed more layers so I could ogle my wicked fill, but just in case, I reached up to crack open the small window on the upper wall opposite the coach door.
That should cool things down a bit…including the minor immolation occurring in my own body.
Tarik cleared his throat. “Speaking of young ladies…your cousin is lovely.”
“My cousin?” I echoed.
“Lady Rosalin.” Those high cheekbones reddened. “She came in your stead to the tailors’ to help me with the small mountain of clothing required for the season. We went for a walk in Hyde Park afterward.”
“And?” I asked, deeply curious but also not wanting to appear too interested. “She didn’t say anything horrid about me, did she?”
“Only that you were an insufferable jackanapes.” He laughed when I snorted. “I’m jesting. Your family is clearly close, you two especially, it seems.”
Closer than you think…
If he discovered the truth, I would be lucky if Tarik ever spoke to me again, but that was a problem for later.
“We are inseparable,” I said, tongue in cheek. “So, what did you think of Rosalin?”
Those blotches of color deepened in his skin, making me warm inside again, and I had to force my face to remain neutral. “She’s brilliant as you said. Charming. Amiable. Pleasant to look at.”
“Pleasant, that’s it?” I prodded before I could stop myself.
His entire face flamed as he tugged on his cravat. “Fine, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!” he admitted. “Which I’m sure is strange since you two could practically be twins. And I truly hope to see her again, if she would welcome it.”
I wasn’t sure what would emerge from my mouth—a scream of joy or a sigh of delight—so I kept my lips sealed against the excitement bubbling up into my throat.
He thought I was beautiful! And brilliant.
I wanted to bask in the sensations flooding me like a balmy river on a summer’s day, but it was all I could do to keep my face inscrutably blank.
“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked quietly, peering at my stone-faced expression with his worried one. “I don’t want to risk our friendship, if it will.”
I shook my head quickly. “Rosalin has her own life. If it’s my approval you need to make your intentions known, you have it.”
I was aware that my reply was more than a little self-serving, but I’m sure the real Ansel would have said the same, along with something on the lines of, Hurt a hair on her head and I’ll make you regret it.
As much as he teased me and pretended to loathe dancing with me, my cousin was deeply protective.
But even as I parted my lips to say something similar to Tarik, I knew there was a far greater chance of me hurting him irreparably.
I also couldn’t bring myself to shut down his affections or warn him off and say that my father would most likely be marrying me to a peer at the end of the season.
Secretly, I wanted him to court me…even if it couldn’t go anywhere.
I just wanted to know what true courtship would be like. Feel like.
“Although, hurt one hair on her head, and you’ll find yourself in a world of trouble,” I added sternly, with a narrow-eyed stare for good measure.
“I give you my word,” Tarik said solemnly, making my stupid heart flutter. “I promise to be the perfect gentleman.”
“I’m sure you will see a lot of each other during the next few weeks,” I said. “And besides, we need her help to make sure you meet the right people in our circles, especially when I’m called away by my uncle for my other duties.”
While my baby brother, Bowen, was my father’s heir apparent, since he was still in leading strings, it was important for Ansel to understand what was required as duke, not that anything was going to happen to my father, but he liked to be prepared.
I would also have to be Alter Ego Ansel sparingly in London, as anyone who did know my cousin, like Ela or Zia, or Keston and Rafi, would see right through the subterfuge.
Thus, Lady Rosalin would have to do most of the work at balls and events.
For once, however, I was looking forward to the season.