A cheer went up from the Dawson brothers who were surrounded by the other single lads. They met several times a week at The Garland’s back lawn to play. Gemma considered them The Garland’s best customers.
“We have all changed, haven’t we, lads,” Mars said to the heads nodding agreement.
Well, not everyone was happy with the turn of events. Sir Lionel, who was here this evening in his red fez and jealously nursing a jug of something he had brought, was not content. He was a widower who had once spent his days drinking with his best friend Fullerton, another widower.
Now he stayed at home and drank alone because Fullerton had started calling on Mrs. Warbler and the matrons felt a promisingmatch was in the making there. That Mars even knew this information and actually cared was of itself a small miracle.
Mars continued. “Suffice it to say that the Logical Men’s Society is no more.”
Another murmur went through the crowd. The matrons sitting in their one corner of the room exchanged triumphant looks. There had been a time when seeing such glances would have set Mars’s back up. Instead, he could acknowledge the bachelors had lost—but look at what they’d gained. The Three Bucks were all happily married to women they cherished. Women they trusted. Women they loved.
“However, we don’t want to lose the name,” Mars said. “So, for the next portion of this announcement, I shall turn you over to Doctor Thurlowe who will be holding his fourth seminar on natural philosophy on the morrow as is tradition.”
Thurlowe stepped forward. “We’ve never had a good name for our seminars. Nothing seemed to strike the right note. Also, as of last year, everyone, male or female, is invited. We do not refuse admittance because of one’s gender. Learning should be universal.” That was met with female applause with, of course, Reverend Summerall joining in. He was a strong proponent for the education of the female mind.
So was Mars. Especially since he and Clarissa would need something to keep Dora’s active mind busy. Latin should do it. And French,of course, and possibly mathematics. Mars had always been strong in the study of mathematics.
Thurlowe continued. “That being said, we are going to increase the lecture series to at least four a year and possibly more. With Cambridge so close and Newmarket not far, we know there will be interest in attending, especially since our numbers have increased with each successive program.
“We have finally settled on a name for our lectures. We had thought of calling them the Logical Men’s Society because we focus on matters of logic. My wife begged me to reconsider and we did. The new name of our lecture series will be the Logical Society. Our lectures are open to all.”
The clapping was stronger now. Mars knew they would be pleased with the next phase. “Balfour.”
He stepped forward. “The Garland will not be large enough to hold the numbers we expect to draw for the lectures to the village. So, with the Earl of Marsden’s backing, we will build a meeting building on a piece of property not far from The Garland that he has donated. It is a nice piece of land. It overlooks the Three Thieves’ rushing waters. I have created the designs and we will place them back by the punch bowl for all of you to have the chance to see.”
As he spoke, Mars signaled for his men to carry in boards holding the designs. The villagers grew restless with their interest.
“Feel free to comment, if you wish,” Balfour said. “This is not about us, but about the future of Maidenshop. We expect it to be an asset for all of our families.”
Mars took over. “That is all we have to share. We thank you for listening.”
Warm applause met their presentation even as a goodly number of people rushed to the back of the room to look at the drawings. Mrs. Warbler and the Dowager Duchess of Winderton led the way.
Mars turned to his friends. “Gentlemen, I believe we will be a success.”
“I know we will be,” Balfour answered.
“It doesn’t matter,” Thurlowe chimed in. “What we do is for the future, not of just our village but the country.”
“Well, here is to a bright future,” Mars said. Now would be the time for a toast except after the fight at the Cotillion two years earlier and the lacing of the punch bowl last year with strong spirits, the matrons had deemed it necessary to ban anything but a weak and rather watery concoction.
That was all right. They had toasted their success over dinner.
Meanwhile the musicians were anxious to return to their playing. The men walked off the dais and parted company to search out their wives. Mars found Clarissa waiting for him by the door.
“Well done, my lord,” she said, her smile one of pride.
He felt himself flush. Clarissa was always lavish in her praise.
“Will you dance, my lady?”
“I have a better idea,” she said, and took his hand. She led him out the door and into the night.
“We are leaving?” he asked.
“No,” she said, a secret smile on her face.
“Is this a surprise?” He always enjoyed Clarissa’s surprises.
