The man’s voice startled her, and Gwen shot to her feet. Good heavens, that lawyer from the Five Points was at the gate of the garden fence, watching them. How long had he been standing there?
“My pardon,” Mr. O’Neill said. “I knocked on the front door, but no one answered. I heard voices back here and followed.”
Her mouth went dry. He was here about that awful memoir. The suffocating fear of losing the college had been looming over her for days, and now he was here with the answer.
“Dare I hope your client accepted my offer?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not. Malone turned it down.”
She flinched and turned away. There would be no miraculous salvation for the college from writing a few bank checks. She braced a hand against the garden wall, gathering her thoughts. She had to try again. She had to try again now, because Uncle Oscar’s decision simply could not stand.
She turned back to the children still clustered around the koi pond. “Time for you to head back to your house,” she said to the boys, scooting them toward a low-hanging branch they used to climb over the fence separating their yards. She held the vine of wild jasmine aside so they wouldn’t crush the blooms and helped them over.
Mimi reached for her walker. “Do I have to go too?”
“Yes, sweetie. I’ll take you back to your mother.” She glanced at Mr. O’Neill. “Will you walk with me to campus? You and I need to speak privately.”
“I’m not sure what we have left to discuss,” he said. “My client was firm in his decision.”
She liked his voice. Gentle but firm and with a hint of an Irish accent. He wasn’t particularly handsome but still enormously attractive. His face was rugged, as though carved by an axe. His hair looked like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be light brown or blond, and his nose had been broken at least once, but none of it lessened his appeal. He looked strong, like a protector, and all women secretly liked that in a man.
She led him and Mimi down the brick path to the front of the house and then on the one-block walk to the campus. Mimi’s lumbering gait made for slow progress, but Mr. O’Neill seemed to enjoy craning his neck to admire the buildings and the natural beauty of campus. He even came inside the administration building when Gwen escorted Mimi to the office where her mother worked. The building’s arched hallways and wood paneling made it feel like an old-world castle, and she squinted once they emerged back into the sunlight.
“Have you ever been to Blackstone College?” she asked. He hadn’t, so she pointed out the various buildings and the fountain splashing in the center of the quadrangle.
“What is your role on campus?” he asked. “Do you teach?”
Gwen’s lifelong dream had been to become a professor here, but that was reserved for people with doctorates. She once contemplated enrolling at New York University to get her doctorate in botany but had balked at the prospect of living in downtown Manhattan, surrounded by towering skyscrapers, the noise, the traffic. Just . . . no. It wasn’t possible.
“My husband was the head of the biology department,” she said simply.
“Was?”
“He died two years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You chose to stay on campus?”
“Oh yes, I’ll never leave this place.” Her reply was instinctive. This college was her home, and she had never even considered leaving it. “I teach a class on botany each semester, but mostly I enjoy tending the gardens and looking after the students. They get dreadfully homesick, even though they’d die before admitting it, and I like mothering them.”
His gaze roamed across the ivy-covered buildings and manicured lawns. “This isn’t anything like where I went to college. It’s a good thing your family has money.”
She sent him an amused half smile. “I’m afraid this college is the only investment our family made that reliably loses money every year.”
“Maybe a little less money spent on fancy buildings would have been prudent.”
Like many people, Patrick O’Neill didn’t look beneath the trappings to see the miracles that were the true beating heart of this college.
She gestured to the building directly behind her, a four-story granite masterpiece with windows that sparkled in the sunlight. “Do you think the buildings are where our money goes?”
He looked at her blankly. “I’m sure they cost a pretty penny.”
They could have been built with my father’s pocket change, she silently thought. “Come with me, and I’ll show you the college’s real treasure,” she said. “It has nothing to do with fancy buildings or pretty landscaping. The amount we spend on it dwarfs everything you can see with human eyes. Are you willing to open your mind and heart to learn about it?”
A glint of curiosity sparked behind Mr. O’Neill’s big, strong face. “Lead the way.”
Against his better judgment, Patrick was intrigued. Sparring with the Blackstones was a dangerous undertaking, and he was already powerfully attracted to this woman. Now that he knew she was a widow, he was even more intrigued.
“This is the jewel in our crown,” Mrs. Kellerman said as she led him into the cool interior of the chemistry building, where their footsteps echoed in the hallway. “Our research focuses on diseases like botulism and tetanus. These are rare diseases that only afflict a few people each year, but the victims tend to be poor with little hope for a cure. Most colleges are researching treatments for the big diseases like tuberculosis where there’s far more profit.”
