“Precisely,” I breathed.
“Give a girl a telescope, and she’ll discover the world.”
In the future, if I ever looked back as a grown woman, this was perhaps the exact moment I think I fell irrevocably in love with Tarik St. Clair.
“Or have her build it herself,” I said, and then swallowed past a lump the size of London when his eyes caught and held mine, and the butterflies in my chest exploded.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Is that why you’ve become intrigued by astronomy, and you’re interested in building one?” he asked insightfully. “For her. Your cousin?”
For a moment, I’d completely forgotten I wasn’t Rosalin. “Partly, yes.”
“Another surprising discovery about you, Lord Ansel,” he said with a shake of his head. “That’s rather selfless and generous. It’s why you changed colleges, isn’t it? I must admit I wondered what could have been a catalyst for such a move. I unfairly assumed you had been forced into rustication from St. John’s and convinced your powerful uncle to enroll you elsewhere to finish the term.” After a beat, he stuck his hand out over the surface between us, expression solemn. “You were right all along—and I was in the wrong. Ididn’tknow you, and I didn’t give myself the chance to get to know you. May I ask your forgiveness?”
I clasped his hand, trying not to shiver at the indelicate rasp of his smooth, bare skin against mine. My pulse streamed.
You’re Ansel, you’re Ansel, you’re Ansel,I chanted to myself.
I gripped extra hard, shook like my life depended on it, and then dropped his warm, calloused palm. He didn’t have the soft hands of a nobleman; they were rough to the touch…hands that told a story of a hard worker.
“Forgiven and forgotten.” I forced a jovial expression to my face. “So, what does the great Mr. St. Clair intend to do with his life? Do you plan to become an academic Fellow like your uncle?Terrorize, I meaninfluence,the malleable young mathematical minds of the future?”
He laughed. “The easy answer is yes, but I suppose it would be ungracious if I wasn’t as honest as you’ve just been,” he said. His cheeks reddened, and my curiosity spiked when he took a few more minutes to form his reply, seeming unusually shy. “The more complicated secret answer is that I wish to open my own exclusive social club.”
Lips parting, I blinked at him. That was…not what I’d been expecting.
He paused, folding his lips between his teeth, those flags of color on his cheeks darkening as he shifted in his seat. I’d expected him to say something along the lines of specialized mathematical research or that he was developing some fantastic secret invention or writing his own version ofPrincipia.Not that a social club wasn’t an intriguing or impressive idea, but they were a dime a dozen. Most men’s clubs promoted idleness and indolence where aristocratic or wealthy gentlemen lauded themselves on how smart and wonderful they were.
It was frankly…disappointing.
“Go on,” I told him. “Tell me more.”
A tiny frown marred his brow at the baffled expression I couldn’t quite hide, but then he sat forward with purpose. “It wouldn’t be just social, but academic also, with meeting rooms for philosophical societies or national organizations for scientific disciplines and the like. And it would include both menandwomen. There’ll be salons for theoretical and speculative discussions, a full library, exquisite food with a French chef, as wellas spaces for leisure and entertainment, including exclusive card rooms with high-stakes gaming.”
Well, that changed things. The idea was both brilliant and provocative.
“Women, too?” I asked, surprised.
His smile grew wider. “Why not? Women bring a unique perspective to the world. Perhaps if I am ever successful, you can invite your cousin. She would be able to participate in intellectual discussions in whatever manner she wished.”
My brows lifted, though my pulse started to hum an excited rhythm. “But it’s not thedonething.”
“Perhaps it’s time for a change, then,” he said with a shrug. “What’s the point of not being bold, of not breaking with tradition? The worst that can happen from reaching too high is that I fail.” He glanced at me with a wry look. “Then again, unless I can attract enough investors, I fear my idea won’t get off the ground at all.”
“Investors?” I asked.
“Opening a social club, and one with such unique requirements as the one I intend to build, will take lots of money. Alas, I’m not a rich man nor an aristocrat who has the ears of such people.”
I stared at him, a marvelous idea forming. “ButIam,” I said slowly.
“You are what?”
My smile was so wide my cheeks ached. “Hear me out.”
Part II
Be not afraid of greatness…
Some are born great…
