Chapter Eight
S he should’ve known the peace would be of short duration.
Of course, John Winter wouldn’t be satisfied with the Renwood DNA already in his possession.
No, this time, he wanted a sample from Gabriel himself.
The old earl had given him a sample before he died, and John wanted Gabriel’s DNA to compare it to that of his father.
As per usual, it was hopeless to try to get out of that one.
Now that she was friends with Gabriel, invading his genetic privacy felt even worse. Because he wouldn’t deny her request. At least he’d only have to spit into a test tube and not extract any more teeth from defenseless skeletons.
Even though Gabriel and her had greeted one another amicably, today, for some reason she found it hard to break the silence. Her large-scale DNA model sat proudly on the Louis XV table, and the marvelous jewels glistened and glittered on her neck.
Gabriel’s blue gaze met hers occasionally while he painted her face, and a sudden shiver ran through her.
Adrenaline, of course. Perfectly natural when one was stared at by an attractive man.
His look was of intense concentration mostly, but sometimes she imagined his gaze held shyness and something else she couldn’t readily identify.
Her cheeks warmed, and she hoped his keen artist’s eye wouldn’t pick up on her sudden bashfulness.
Her thoughts were taking a direction she didn’t approve of.
Best to concentrate on her tasks for tomorrow.
Brief her grad students on the configurations for the upcoming series of experiments.
Remind Professor Winter’s nephew to get the funding application ready for submission, because Johnny Snow, although a fully grown man, needed regular prodding to get his chores done.
“Tea break?” Gabriel’s voice dragged her out of professional planning mode.
Now was her opportunity. She straightened her spine and said, “Before we break for tea, I need to get something off my chest.”
His eyes narrowed. “Let me guess, more ancestor DNA?”
“No, he wants a sample of yours.”
Gabriel studied her; his expression guarded. “He wants one of my teeth?”
“God, no. A bit of your saliva will do nicely.” She gave a shaky laugh.
“Phew.” He blew out a breath. “Sounds much better. Did you bring a test tube or something for me to spit into?”
Her face heated. “As a matter of fact, I have. Are you sure you don’t mind? I mean it’s your genetic data, and you might not want to disclose it.”
“I take it you’ll do the sequencing, comparing, analyzing, and whatever else it is you do with other people’s teeth and saliva?”
She took a step toward him. “Yes, that’ll be me.”
His mouth curved into a wide smile, and creases appeared around his eyes. “Well, then, if you find anything dodgy, keep mum about it.”
She suppressed a fit of the giggles. “I promise not to breathe a word.”
“Let’s do it then.”
She went to the corner where she’d dropped her handbag, produced a DNA test kit, and handed it to him. “If you could move this around the inside of your cheeks, and, just to be sure, if you could also spit into this test tube?”
“No problem.” He gripped the test tube with his long, slender fingers and unscrewed the lid. “I’ll better turn around. This is bound to be disgusting.”
She chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not such a delicate flower.”
He completed the task then held out test tube and swab. She stowed both safely in her bag.
“You know, what annoys me most is that I have to pester you for genetic samples of your family when I don’t really believe in John’s longevity project.”
Gabriel appeared to be disappointed. “You don’t?”
She frowned. “Firstly, to attempt this kind of thing, Professor Winter would need a much, much larger sample size. Even if he gathered the DNA of every Renwood in that crypt of yours, it wouldn’t be nearly enough.
Secondly, you’d need proper funding and a huge, dedicated lab working on it full time.
What he’s doing with the ‘Renwood Longevity Project’ is of personal and local significance at best. John Winter brought his hobby into our lab, even though we already have more than enough work with our day-to-day research. ”
Gabriel quirked his head. “What a shame. Nothing special in our DNA after all?”
“I’m not saying the Kirwans aren’t blessed with a nice set of genes,” she glanced at him from beneath her eyelashes, “but I’d be more interested in examining a farm laborer with similar DNA to your ancestor, Edwin.
Someone who had periodically suffered from malnutrition, and who had to work the land from morning till night, rain or shine. Epigenetics is more my jam.”
“What does that mean? Epigenetics?”
“Oh, sorry, I’m slipping into jargon. It’s an area of research that examines how external factors influence which of our genes are expressed and which aren’t.
How do experiences shape our DNA and that of our children?
Transgenerational trauma written into our bodies is fascinating stuff, and we’re only at the beginning.
John’s a dinosaur who still considers DNA as the blueprint of a human being and life running according to a preordained plan.
But it’s much more complicated and interesting than that. ”
“It certainly sounds like it. Not that I’ve much of a grasp of science, but maybe some basic understanding will rub off on me if I continue to hang out with you.”
“And you can teach me to properly appreciate art. That’s an area of which I have exactly zero clue.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He gave her one of his radiant smiles, and her pulse quickened.
“Don’t let me forget that model; I need it for my lectures.” She tore her gaze from him and fixed it on the double helix on the Louis XV table.
The session had come to an end. Gabriel was in the process of opening the tricky top inch of the metal zip. With his hands on Delia’s back and his face close to her exposed skin, she fought hard to stay calm. It’s normal to get a bit flustered.
“What’s it like to be stuck in front of a herd of young ones? he asked. “Are they ready and eager to drink from the font of knowledge?”
She leaned back slightly and turned her profile to him.
“It’s a touch more prosaic, I have to admit.
Not all of them are eager. Some are a bit sluggish, or bored, or not particularly motivated, but I aim to make sure the eager ones go far.
” Her voice steadied. “Professor Winter will retire in a couple of years, and it’s my ambition to take over as the head of the biochemistry department. ”
“That’s great. I wish you every success. You deserve it.” The top of the zip was undone, and he took a step back.
“I certainly do, especially after extracting those DNA samples from you.”
“Extortionist.”
She batted her eyelashes. “That’s what I am. Now get out, and let me change into my clothes.”
~ * ~
“W ould you look at the length of those telomeres. This man is thirty-five, and he has the telomeres of a twenty-year-old.” Delia turned to Sandra, who was writing up the results of her latest experiment at the table next to hers.
Sandra came over and peered through the microscope. “Wow, not bad. You should make babies with him.”
“Stop it, or I won’t show you anything anymore, ever,” Delia snapped.
Laughter shook Sandra’s petite frame. “I’m just saying,” she gasped between breaths, “you’re right at the source. Help the poor man fill that large house of his with a clutch of little Renwoods.”
Delia scowled and folded her arms across her chest. “You’re beginning to sound eerily like John Winter.”
“Argh.” Sandra doubled over and made retching noises.
Delia burst into giggles. It was no use; she could never be angry with Sandra for more than two minutes.
“Listen.” Sandra’s tone sobered. “I need to tell you something...”
“Sounds ominous. Keep going.”
“I’m thinking of moving back to Germany.”
“Oh no.” Delia covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry I should be more supportive, but from my selfish vantage point, it’s a disaster.”
“Ah, Delia.” Sandra wrapped her in a tight hug. “I was never going to stay in Renwood indefinitely. There’s no scope for me here.”
“Yes, we’re too small. Can’t deny it.” Delia pressed her lips together.
“And let’s face it. Our boss is a jerk who treats us like servants. Did I tell you that John drafted me in at the last minute to sort out the funding application after his precious nephew messed it up?” Sandra scowled.
“I’m not surprised. You predicted it after all.”
“You bet. Pissed me off to no end. I didn’t come to this university to mop up after a lazy nepo-baby-scientist. But my job isn’t the only reason for leaving.” Sandra’s expression cleared. “My parents aren’t getting any younger, and my sister is expecting a baby. I want to be around for that.”
“Of course, I understand.” Delia battled with a lump that had formed in her throat. Her closest friend was going to leave, but she needed to rally. “What’s the job market like over there?”
Sandra’s eyes lit with fervor. “I spotted this really interesting job at the Max-Planck-Institute. It’s a long shot, but I’m going to apply anyway.”
“What area?”
Sandra glowed with enthusiasm. “Cellular structural biochemistry.”
“Damn, that’s an interesting topic,” Delia conceded. “You’re an excellent scientist. They’d be lucky to have you.”
“Thank you.” Sandra beamed at her. “I may need you to write me a reference.”
“Sure thing. It’ll be glowing without me having to exaggerate. But before you start planning your exit, make sure to visit me a few times—not just nights out for drinks. It’s impossible to have a proper conversation in a noisy club.”
“Yes, my dear recluse.” Sandra promised. “Now wish me luck.”
Delia put both hands on her friend’s shoulders. “I fully support your ambition, and having you languish in Renwood is not an option. There, see how selfless I am?”
“Astounding.” Sandra chuckled. “Now let’s head to the canteen. We deserve some lunch.”
~ * ~