“I know.”
“But do you? Honestly, Elizabeth, do you? Did you truly consider the consequences before you started, or did you just disregard them? Because let me tell you the real ramifications.” He paused, then speared her with his gaze. “Because I don’t think you did consider all the possibilities. I think you were blinded by what you wanted and only saw what you wanted to see.”
Elizabeth blinked back tears.
“Elizabeth, dear child, as much as we may not agree with social conventions and how unfair they may be, they are still alive and present, demanding respect, and when we disregard them fully, we invite the repercussions that accompany that. In this case, you’re teaching material that is not part of a lady’s education, which is seen as vulgar, scandalous, and not respectful of your social standing. It puts you in the same position as a bluestocking, and not in a cavalier way, but in a way that disrespects the privilege to which you were bornand which I’ve given you. Which leads me to the second ramification. Elizabeth, did you consider how this could hurt me? Not just the dishonesty, though I’ll say that is certainly what hurts the worst at the moment, but the fact that it undermines not only my integrity as a professor of Cambridge, but also my respectability. And if I cannot be respected, do you think I can remain doing what I do? Already I’m known as an eccentric. I’m at peace with that since it’s quite true. However, I am not so unconventional that I’d throw all social protocol out the window, not for your sake, because it would reflect poorly on you. Yet you denied me the same respect.”
Elizabeth’s tears flowed freely, streaming down her face in quick succession as each of her father’s words hit her soul like sharp arrows, hitting true and sinking deep.
“You can excuse your behavior. Nevertheless, you cannot do it well because your arguments are weak and based on what you wanted rather than what was socially acceptable, which is the context of the world we live in. You’ve studied enough to know this.”
“Yes, Papa,” she answered, her voice nothing more than a whisper. It was all she could do; he was right. Every part of his argument was correct, and every part of hers was…selfish.
Not because it was wrong to educate women.But because she wanted it and did whatever it took to see it through, damn the consequences.
The moral was right. The actions wrong.
And that meant the whole thing was corrupted.
Her father let out a slow sigh. “Now, I believe I’ve chastised you thoroughly, and I need to tell you something that is a boon in the middle of this mess, regardless of how it may be mistaken as approval of your behavior.” He narrowed his eyes. “The gentleman is not going to tell anyone else about your…class. As it turns out, his daughter was a new student last night, and that is how he learned about it and came to tell me. However, his daughter was also so impressed she begged him not to disclose the information. So, your secret is safe, for now. But that is only under the condition that you stop.”
Elizabeth nodded, her tears slowing only slightly. “I understand.”
He shifted on his feet. “I understand that you need an outlet, a way to share what you’ve learned, my dear, so we’ll find a way that won’t destroy your reputation, or mine. I have a few ideas, and when I’m less frustrated, you and I can discuss them. Because I don’t fault you for wanting to do what you’re doing, Elizabeth. However, I do fault you for the way you went about it.” He nodded, as if finishing in gesture what he finished with words.
“Thank you, Papa,” Elizabeth replied, her heart rallying faintly at her father’s last words. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Since I didn’t get a moment to break my fast before I was interrupted, I’m going to do that now.” He moved into the room and took a seat. Elizabeth studied her cold tea.
“Will you sit?”
Elizabeth glanced to her father, then to her chair, and nodded. But her belly was in a tight knot. As soon as it was polite, she excused herself to her rooms.
She had some heart searching to do.
And some amends to make.
It was always easier to solve mathematical problems or ask the deep questions that didn’t need to be fully answered than to search and unlock one’s own heart and fix what lay beneath all the lies a person told oneself.
And that were believed.
Twenty-four
I have always thought the actions of men the best interpreters of their thoughts.
—John Locke,An Essay Concerning Human Understanding
Collin knocked on Professor Essex’s door as soon as it was a polite hour. He needed to speak with Elizabeth and her father. It was a matter of safety, though he wasn’t sure how he would approach the conversation. Because it was all his fault. He’d put them in danger, and it was his job to save them from it.
If they’d answer the bloody door.
He knocked again.
Stepping back, he waited, staring at the knob, willing it to turn and open.
“Yes, my lord?” Molly, the maid who had accompanied Elizabeth on their tea escapade, asked with a polite tone.
Collin released a deep breath. “I… That is, is Professor Essex home?” He wanted to merely barge through the door and call out for Elizabeth, but they were courting so certain expectations wouldneed to be observed. And as he’d already put her and her father in a certain amount of peril, he’d not cause damage to her reputation as well.
