Walsh waited patiently for Caroline to serve herself first, then carried their plates to the second table and took a seat beside her.
“How is your aunt,” her mother asked Walsh as she filled everyone’s glass.
“She’s well, thank you. I’ll tell her you asked after her.” He turned his attention to Malvinia. “And how about you, Miss Teague? How fares your family?”
“They are well, also.”
“Splendid. I’m glad our paths crossed today. I’m curious to know if you’ve had a chance to read the book on conchology?”
“I have—twice through! Thank you for lending it.” Malvinia’s hand flew to her reddening cheek. “I meant to bring it with me today, but I forgot.”
“No hurry,” Walsh said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Keep it as long as you like.”
“What is conchology?” Caroline’s mother asked.
“It’s the study of a particular type of sea snail and its shell,” Walsh replied. “Miss Teague expressed interest during one of our conversations, so I loaned her my copy ofThe Conchologist’s First Bookby Edgar Allan Poe.”
“Oh.”
“The book itself has a rather interesting history,” Walsh went on. “Poe’s edition was based onManual of Conchologyby Thomas Wyatt, which was priced out of reach of most people, even advanced conchology students. So, Poe—who was an experienced editor but too deep in financial difficulties to publish it himself—allowed his name to be used to popularize an affordable edition. Some accused him of plagiarism, but I think they were jealous of his success.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. Poe’s contributions were brilliant. In addition to writing the preface and introduction, he made significantchanges, including translating foreign portions into English and thoroughly organizing the book. Schools adopted the new edition, and it sold out almost immediately. In fact, it was the only one of Poe’s books to be reprinted in his lifetime, which is why it’s unfortunate that he didn’t receive any royalties.”
Caroline’s father harrumphed and shook his head. “Innovators going uncompensated... Happens more than you think.”
Her mother gave Malvinia an assessing look. “A textbook on sea creatures is an unusual choice for a woman. Most young ladies lean toward books on etiquette, or those with moral or domestic themes.”
“I’ve read those until my eyes crossed,” Malvinia blurted then appeared to regret such a blunt, revealing admission. “When Mr. Duffy mentioned the book, it intrigued me. The illustrations are beautiful.”
“They are,” Walsh agreed, “but what drew me was the conch’s mathematical properties. The shells exhibit logarithmic spirals, a type of spiral where the distance between successive turns remains constant. The nautilus, on the other hand–” He looked around the table at the tolerant expressions and pressed his lips into a thin, self-deprecating line. “Forgive me. I have a tendency to prattle.”
Caroline’s mother turned a polite smile his way. “You’re knowledgeable on the subject and sharing your fondness for it. There’s nothing to forgive.” She pointed to the pitcher. “More lemonade?”
“Yes, please,” Walsh replied, seeming glad for the change of subject.
Her father held out his glass. “I’ll have some, too.” He brought the refilled beverage to his lips and dribbled some onto his beard. “Pardon my clumsiness,” he said as he dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Did Caroline tell you we got a letter fromJackson and Amanda?” he asked Walsh, who cast her a cautious glance.
“No, she didn’t.” Ever since the incident at the party, Walsh tiptoed around her sensitivities where Jackson was concerned.
“Amanda gave birth to a boy,” her father went on. “Named him Noah, they did.”
“Congratulations. Mother and son are well, I hope.”
“They are.”
Caroline’s mother practically levitated from excitement where she sat. “I’ve talked Mr. Bennet into paying them a visit. We’ll be taking the train to Omaha in a few weeks.” Her joy dimmed some. “I wish Caroline would agree to come along. Perhaps one of you can persuade her. Her father and I have given up.”
Caroline buried her pain—a feat at which she’d become too adept—and aimed for calm practicality. “Someone needs to stay behind and manage the household, lest my brothers run amok. Besides, Amanda has her hands full enough without a crowd underfoot.”
Annoyance gave her mother’s forbearing expression a credible challenge. “Three people is not a crowd.”
“If I go, you’ll be forced to bring the boys, and sixisa crowd.” Caroline shook her head. “I’ll remain here.”
“And they say males are stubborn,” her mother muttered. “Stay behind if you wish, but I fear you’ll regret it.”
She probably would, but she couldn’t bear to see her sister holding Jackson’s child and living the life she should have had.
