“Eighteen,” Philip said.
Vaughan turned away to hide a smile, and Sir Charles’s sneer fell. Dryden pulled out a small notebook and pencil and appeared to be trying to find the answer.
Sir Charles shook his head. “You could not—”
“Multiply the second number by the third, and divide the product thereof by the first... and the quotient is the answer.” There was no reason to bother explaining the rule of three. “The second number is twelve; the third is six. Multiplying them together makes seventy-two, and dividing by the first number—four—makes eighteen. So, the answer is eighteen shillings.”
Philip gave them all a proper bow and left. He knew he had habits more recluse and solitary than was typical for one so fitted for society, even notwithstanding his lesser income. But his natural diffidence amongst strangers and his intense dislike for Sir Charles made him eager to return to the library and spend the afternoon with his calculations.
On entering, he was surprised to see Eleanor standing on a library stool, reaching for a book.
“I did not bring enough books to account for rainy days,” she said by way of greeting. Philip reached her side and held out a hand to steady her as she stepped down.
When she reached the floor, Eleanor still held fast to his hand. She fixed her dark eyes on him. These were eyes that he knew well, every shade, every look. He knew when they were laughing at him, when they glared at him in impatience. They were beautiful eyes, and they now moved from staring into the depths of his soul down to his lips.
She blinked and hastily turned, dropping his hand. He felt heat run up the back of his neck.We decided in January to put an end to all of this.Philip cleared his throat and, noticing what was next to the missing space on the shelf, said, “Oh, Eleanor, not Hume’s history of England again?”
“I like the fourth volume,” she said. “The impact of Henry VIII’s policies on communities of religious women...”
“It makes you think of the Abbey? Of home?”
“But not in a sentimental way,” she said firmly. “I do like history, you know.” Eleanor smiled. “Perhaps almost as much as you enjoy mathematical pursuits.”
Forcing any bitterness out of his voice, Philip said, “Your first object does not think highly of my pursuits.”
The blush that had just been receding came back to her cheeks. He ought not to have said anything about Sir Charles. He might become her husband, and Philip could not have Eleanor feel that he hated her for deciding that anything was to be preferred or endured to a lonely life with an oppressive father.
Eleanor’s gaze lifted at last. “Although it is not a gentlemanly profession, you know there is value in what you do, both to challenge your own intellect and also for the betterment of the world.”
“It is a shame that the study of the advanced uses of mathematics is so little understood by those in my circle.” He thought of Sir Charles’s mocking. “It is human nature, for some, to ridicule what they do not understand.”
“’Tis evident that all the sciences have a relation, more or less, to human nature. Even mathematics, natural philosophy, and natural religion are in some measure dependent on the science of man.”
It took him a moment to catch her meaning. Falling into the sofa with a groan he said, “Do not quote Mr Hume to me! If you start talking about treatises on human nature and ideas versus impressions, I shall fall asleep.”
She sat by him, laughing. “If you can say that, then you remember a great deal about my thoughts on Mr Hume for someone who claims to have no interest in philosophy or history.”
Philip gave a fond smile. “It is because I remember everything you say, my dear Eleanor.”
Her expression grew soft, and she tilted her head slightly. He had not realised that he had leant toward her the moment she sat, his arm resting on the back of the sofa behind her. He only knew it when she suddenly shifted away from him to face into the room.
“I suppose your hints implyImust have full charge of the household accounts if I secure my own home at Colborne?” she said with forced easiness. “You know my father oversees every choice, every shilling, but Iama heedful housekeeper. You cannot question my skills with simple math.”
“I have no doubt in you.”But General Tilney does.Otherwise, he would not meddle so much in the cares and concerns of the woman who was supposed to run his house.
After a pause she said, in a bright tone, “Vaughan intends to go into Kent soon. Shall you stay in Herefordshire with the rest of us?”
Philip nodded, and Eleanor gave a little relieved sigh. “I suppose,” Philip said slowly, “you never considered Vaughan when you were settling on a man your father would approve of because... because you know where his heart lies?”
“Oh, certainly. Besides, I have seen the miniature he keeps of the little girl. If you cut her hair and put her in breeches, she would look exactly as a young Robert Brampton.”
Philip gave a sad little scoff. “You are a better friend to him than I was,” he said. “I suggested he throw over his married lover and marry you because he is kind and your father would love to hear you called Lady Vaughan.”
“Vaughan will not hold it against you, no matter how deeply he loves Lady Metcalfe.”
Eleanor fell quiet, and an uncomfortable silence ensued. He wondered if she felt the troubling hint at a married woman carrying on an affair with a lover as much as he did. Neither of them would countenance such a thing.
The marriage of either of them would ultimately end their friendship. The longing looks, the heightened feelings that always came to the surface when they were near had grown from a childhood love, and had only intensified over the last five years.
