“Of course.”
I watched as he set off, a striking figure, and not at all the sort of “gentleman” other women might prefer. He wore no hat in spite of the weather that morning, taller than those around him, wearing the jumper he preferred to a silk shirt and cravat. Andthough he was some distance away, there was no disguising the devil’s look he gave me now as he turned briefly.
As I turned to enter the passenger compartment I caught a glimpse of a man, simply dressed who quickly slipped through the crowd of passengers on the platform.
His way momentarily blocked, he pushed between a man and woman, ducking his head from sight beneath a cap. He stumbled, then pushed on with some difficulty, and appeared to have a noticeable limp.
I quickly descended the steps onto the platform and searched for sight of him among the crowd of passengers, but he had disappeared.
“Miss?”
I looked up at the rail attendant who now stood on the steps to the rail car.
“The train will be departing. You must board now.”
I found the seat Lily had taken with the other across and joined her.
“We should arrive by eleven o’clock,” she announced, then looked up.
“Ye look as if ye’ve seen a ghost, as Mrs. Ryan would say.”
Not a ghost, but someone very real I had glimpsed in barely more than a few seconds among a crowd of people?
Surely there was more than one man with limp in all of London, particularly among those who returned from military service.
We arrived at Cambridgeshire rail station on schedule.
It was a long low, stone building with arches across the front and a carriage barn for passengers who departed, undoubtedly including students who attended Cambridge University aswell as local residents. The university, however, was not our destination.
“St. Andrew and St. Mary’s Parish church,” I told the driver as we climbed aboard a coach. The town of Grantchester was within walking distance of the university with the church beyond.
Lily stared out the window at the sprawling buildings of Cambridge with the dozens of buildings in the Gothic style amid green areas, which included that central tower with the river flowing through.
“That is the university?” Lily asked, obviously quite impressed.
“It’s made up of several colleges,” I explained. “Over thirty that include the college of medicine, mathematics, and science.”
“Did ye attend?” Lily asked.
She was well aware of my time in Paris at private school. However, Cambridge was not part of my education.
How best to respond, I thought, when both my great aunt and I had emphasized the value of an education for her.
“Women are allowed to attend lectures and study,” I replied. “However, they are not given certificates for their studies, which would allow them to become doctors.”
“But men are given certificates,” she concluded. “And become doctors, teachers, and scientists.”
I saw the frown that slowly worked its way onto her face.
“How then might a woman support herself? Other than work on the streets?”
That early education of another sort had most definitely not been forgotten.
“They might inherit through their family, or hope to marry,” I replied.
“Workhouses, mills, taverns, or places like the one in Edinburgh,” she replied.
A “church” of another calling, where we had first met. The frown deepened.
