Chapter 18
At the first notes of her alarm, Aurelia practically fell out of bed in her eagerness to get moving.
It was eleven thirty, so she had a few minutes to fully wake herself up before going downstairs to greet everyone.
She picked another outfit that seemed appropriate for a nineteenth-century gathering—a deep blue velvet dress that swept past her knees, along with her mother’s old pearl drop earrings.
When she opened the door from her flat into the shop, the only sound she heard was the ticking of the mantel clock.
Fezz slipped out beside her just before she closed the door, then settled himself in a corner of the window seat.
Aurelia stepped down the spiral staircase and went into the back room to make coffee, then sat at her desk with her chair positioned so that she could swivel her head to mind both the mantel clock and the Recommended Reads table.
The minutes seemed to crawl along: five minutes until midnight, four, three, two, one…
The moment the clock began to strike the hour, Aurelia spun in her chair, her eyes almost aching with the strain of staring at the table and its stacks of books.
She didn’t have long to wait; soon enough, mists began rising from each book, whorls of words twisting across the whiteness.
The figures slowly formed and, finally, each character appeared before her.
Rachel and Marianne were the first to spot Aurelia and they rushed to her side, trying to grasp her hand before remembering it was impossible.
“Aurelia!”
“Here you are!”
“We were worried—”
“We feared something had happened to you!”
Aurelia noticed Vronsky keeping his distance from the circle around her but was so caught up in Marianne and Rachel’s anxious greeting that she didn’t have a chance to wave hello to him.
“I’m alright! I’m sorry—I took a nap last night and meant to wake up by midnight, but I slept straight through.”
“Our late nights must be wearing on you, dear,” Marmee said, concern etched in her features.
“I’m fine. Really! But I was disappointed to miss seeing you.”
“I surmised you had prior commitments,” said Sergeant Cuff confidently. “One cannot spend all one’s days running a shop and one’s nights talking to its extraordinary inhabitants.”
“Extraordinary? I suppose we are, but I am uncertain as to whether I should like to be described as such when I feel rather ordinary,” Vronsky said with a slight smile as he appeared at Aurelia’s side. His mood seemed muted, a contrast to the rest of the characters gathered around her.
“I am sorry for the manner in which we parted,” he said quietly. “We have no control, you see. When first light appears, we are bound to return to our books.”
“I understand,” she said, nodding to reassure him. “Sergeant Cuff told me, but I’d forgotten.”
Just then, Marianne, Elinor, and Rachel caught her attention, leaving Vronsky to speak with Sergeant Cuff.
“Aurelia, is it true you attended university?” Rachel burst out, incredulous. “Laurie said he thought he overhead as much but we could not believe it unless we heard from you directly.”
“I am certain Laurie never meant to eavesdrop,” Elinor told Aurelia. “Only, it is quite difficult to maintain a confidential conversation in the shop.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to—I don’t mind.”
“Is it true, then?” pressed Rachel.
“It is. I have a degree from University College London.”
“A degree! Not just a course?” Marianne asked, incredulous.
“Lots of courses, actually,” Aurelia said, laughing as she thought of the countless lectures she’d attended.
“Is it altogether normal for a woman to attend university during your time?” Elinor seemed concerned, as though Aurelia had done something scandalous.
“It is, yeah. I’d say most universities have a student body that’s about half and half, men and women.”
Marianne, Elinor, and Rachel looked at each other, then at Aurelia, their faces masks of amazement.
Marigold hadn’t gone to university, and while Aurelia wasn’t sure about her great-great aunt and great aunt she assumed—given the characters’ reactions—that they hadn’t either.
She hesitated, not wanting to shock the characters too thoroughly.
“We can also vote.”
“Marigold did mention that, but I never quite believed her,” Rachel said, her voice hushed in wonder. “Will we get to vote in an election?”
Aurelia did a few quick calculations in her head, then said, “I’m sorry, I don’t think you will. Your daughters and granddaughters, though…”
She trailed off, seeing their disappointment.
“I suppose there is some comfort in knowing that future generations of women will vote, even if we are not amongst them,” Rachel said diplomatically.
Laurie—who’d been speaking with Marmee, Cuff, and Vronsky—walked over to join their circle.
“Did I hear talk of women’s suffrage? I seem to remember Jo saying she wanted to join the movement. We’ll ask Marmee. She might have even gone to a meeting herself,” Laurie said as he led the women over to her.
Marmee confirmed Laurie’s guess and then listened as the others told her about Aurelia’s degree. When Rachel and Marianne stepped aside to ask Laurie about his time at university, Marmee and Aurelia were left to talk amongst themselves.
“Tell me, what did you study, Aurelia?” Marmee asked.
“English literature, and then later I went back for a graduate degree in creative writing.”
“Did you? My Jo would have loved that. What is your specialty? Novels? Poetry?”
“Well, I was working on the start of a novel, but I don’t write much anymore.”
Aurelia was about to change the subject, but Marmee pressed, “Why is that?”
“Oh… There are a few reasons, but mostly I just don’t have the time. I’ve been busy with the shop.”
“And the other reasons?”
Aurelia barely managed to hold in a sigh, but much as she’d rather talk about almost anything else, she couldn’t be rude to Marmee.
“My mother died about a year ago, and Aunt Marigold died three months ago. I just haven’t wanted to write since then.”
“I’m very sorry,” Marmee said, reaching out a hand as though to touch Aurelia’s arm. “My family has suffered some difficult losses as well and I understand how terrible it can be. But I have no doubt you’ll find a way to write again, just as my Jo did.”
Aurelia’s first instinct was to disagree and say she might never write again, but she was saved from making any dramatic declarations when Laurie and the others drew Marmee back into their conversation.
Vronsky, seeming to sense an opening, caught Aurelia’s eye and lifted his brows, as though asking her to join him.
They climbed up the spiral staircase to the window seat, where Fezz lifted his head and eyed them before resuming his nap.
As they sat down, she dove right into her first question, as though no time had passed since he’d disappeared at dawn earlier that day.
“I was just talking to the others about university. Before, you mentioned that it wasn’t really an option for Russian women in your time. But still, you must know some intelligent women who could have done well at university or in business if they’d had the chance?”
Vronsky took his time responding, his voice a near whisper when he spoke.
“I knew one very intelligent woman. I suppose, having read my novel, you know all about her.”
Aurelia winced at the realization that he was thinking of Anna and instantly felt guilty for dredging up his worst memories.
“I do. I’m very sorry for your loss, Alexei.”
“My loss… The pain of it is still quite deep.”
“That’s right—your novel ends just a few months after she died, doesn’t it? It must still feel very raw.”
“It is and yet, as each evening here progresses it feels more remote, as if it happened many years ago and I am reflecting back upon it. At times it has been a relief to be here and to have that distance, while at others I am filled with guilt not to feel her loss as intensely as I should.”
“I know that exact feeling. My mother passed not long ago, and you’ve heard about my aunt.”
She felt her eyes fill with tears and she willed them not to fall.
“I’m sorry. It’s still difficult to talk about them without feeling sad.
I keep hoping the sadness will be replaced by something else,” she confided.
“Someday, I want to be able to appreciate the fact that I had them in my life without always focusing on the fact that I don’t have them here anymore. ”
Aurelia paused. She hadn’t put those thoughts into words before and was surprised at how easily they came to her now.
“Maybe time will do the same for you?” she suggested.
“It is something to hope for, yes.”
They were quiet, each collecting themselves.
“Please,” Vronsky said after a moment. “Ask your question again and I will try for a better answer.”
“My question… What were we talking about—university?”
He nodded.
“Right, I was asking if you know any women in your time who would have wanted to go to university?”
“I know a number of intelligent women, as you say, but it is difficult to imagine them as scholars. Perhaps because many of the scholars I know are great bores. How can I picture women in that world when I am used to seeing them glittering in ballrooms or arranging pleasant dinners with good company?” Vronsky smiled, as though he thought his answer would please her.
“Some of us have more interesting things to do than wander around glittering for other people’s entertainment,” Aurelia said, struggling to keep the sharpness from her voice even as she grew embarrassed for having dressed up before joining the characters.
“I loved being a student. I spent my days reading, researching, and writing about all of you.”
“Did you?” Vronsky asked with an amused laugh. “I suppose reading novels might be a suitable pursuit for a woman,” he added in a conciliatory tone.
The fact that Vronsky was from a different time than her own was hard to keep in mind as Aurelia’s blood simmered to hear him write off her hard work. Who was he to decide what women were capable of doing?
“I could just as easily have studied medicine or mathematics. Women in my time are physicians, solicitors, you name it. My mother was a Classics professor.”
Vronsky shook his head and smiled, clearly struggling to decide whether Aurelia was pulling his leg.
“That may be so,” he said at last, “yet I simply cannot imagine the women I know being interested in such things.”
“Maybe if you actually asked one of them what they want to do or be, you could rely on more than just your imagination.” Aurelia stared him down, daring him to challenge her.
“What is there to ask? No one would hire a female physician, let alone a female mathematician.”
“That’s something for you to look forward to, then, Alexei,” she announced with a mischievous smile. “One day you’ll have a female doctor who will stitch you up just as well as any man.”
Vronsky stood abruptly.
“That is a scandalous proposal. This modern world you speak of sounds like… pure fiction—something out of one of your ridiculous novels.”
“Well, certainly not yours,” she couldn’t help retorting.
Vronsky made a sharp, short bow and walked stiffly to the spiral staircase, descending rapidly. Aurelia stood and caught sight of him striding into the back of the shop, where he turned from the others and pretended to inspect a bookshelf.
How had they gone from bonding over their shared losses to being cross with one another, and so quickly?
His narrow-mindedness was almost comical—so much for him not wanting to be left behind by modern times.
But mostly, she was disappointed to discover that one of her favorite characters from one of her favorite novels was, in fact, quite different than she’d imagined.
From below, Marmee caught her eye. Aurelia attempted a smile but was sure it must have come off as a frown instead. Marmee excused herself from her conversation and climbed the spiral staircase.
“You remind me so much of my Jo,” she said as Aurelia met her at the top of the stairs. “You are both very passionate about your beliefs.”
“You heard us, then?”
Marmee lifted her shoulders and Aurelia nodded, realizing how their raised voices must have carried across the small shop.
“I’ve never had a conversation like that in my life,” Aurelia said, shaking her head. “I can pretty much take for granted that people in my time are on the same page about these things.”
“Think how fortunate you are, then, to live in a time when that is so.”
Aurelia looked down at Vronsky, who continued to stand with his back to the others, unwilling to join in their conversations. She felt a pang of guilt, but only a small one.
“I usually tell my girls not to let the sun go down on their anger, but in this case,” Marmee said as she looked to the mezzanine’s darkened window, “perhaps it might be wise to gather your thoughts before revisiting the subject with Count Vronsky.”
“Yes, best leave it for tonight.” Aurelia sighed.
Marmee went back downstairs, and Aurelia moved to rest her hands on the mezzanine railing, watching Marmee’s progress as she joined the others.
Going from page to reality, Aurelia was finding it hard to remember that each character was a product of his or her time.
But if she was going to spend her evenings with them, she’d have to do a better job of it.
She scrunched up her nose as she thought again of Vronsky—could she really sit through another evening of his condescension?
Stifling a huge yawn, Aurelia decided to return to the flat instead of joining the others downstairs.
She wondered if it would be rude to leave, but when another giant yawn threatened she knew that a good night’s sleep—what was left of it, anyway—was in order.
She waved to Elinor and motioned to the flat door.
Elinor nodded and waved back. Aurelia opened the door, letting the waiting Fezz in and up the stairs, then looked out over the shop, seeing the characters talking, laughing, being.
In spite of her argument with Vronsky, Aurelia was smiling to herself as she climbed the stairs to bed.