The accusation of misconduct he’d lodged against Tarik was a grave one. If Tarik received anything more than a disciplinary fine or temporary rustication, his future as a Fellow of the college would be over. Already as it was, the false identity was a perceived mark against his moral character. Tarik had mentioned that years ago there was a student who pretended to be another student to take an examination, and both men were expelled. The deception went against academic integrity.
“Are you well?” I whispered to Tarik, whose handsome face remained drawn.
“Yes, but I fear even the duke’s advocacy will not help. Wordsworth is known for his rigorous, unforgiving temperament.”
I exhaled. “Does that upset you?”
He shrugged. “It’s everything I’ve ever worked for, so in asense, it feels like I’m losing everything.” He paused, that blue gaze boring into mine. “Becoming a Fellow meant that I would have something real to offer you. It would have been a respectable position of employment.”
My throat tightened as I bit my lip. “Have you forgiven me, then?”
His hand reached across on the bench we shared, his little finger brushing mine. The soft touch made heat spark at the point of contact. No one was paying us any attention, but I felt exposed, as though everyone could see. “I wish you had told me, but I understand why, logically, you could not. In truth, if we hadn’t met as friends first, I likely wouldn’t feel as I do today.”
“And howdoyou feel?” I whispered.
He smiled, his dimple popping, eyes backlit with blue flame. “Infatuated with every part of you—your brain, your wit, your compassion, your beauty.” His stare dropped to my lips and ignited. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”
My abdomen clenched as his finger hooked secretly around mine. “So do I, but I wouldn’t want to corrupt you with my feminine charms.”
“If such charms mean an incisive brain that can rival any gentleman here, then consider me thoroughly and willingly corrupted, mon coeur.”
“Such sweet nothings, Monsieur St. Clair,” I said. “You certainly have mastered the way to this girl’s heart.”
“Have I?”
“It’s yours,” I said simply, watching those vibrant eyes flarewith an intensity that I felt to my bones. I flipped his palm over and squeezed his hand. “Every beating inch of it. I’m in love with you, Tarik, if that isn’t completely obvious by now.”
“I…Truly?”
Feeling weightless, I nodded.
He opened his mouth and closed it, like a fish out of water, as if his voice was locked in his throat, throttling any reply to my unplanned though earnest admission. I was drowning in that limpid gaze, which revealed his every emotion. We were locked in a trance, the sounds of everyone else fading away, the inches between us vanishing.
“Oy, St. Clair!” Klaus yelled, making us jump apart like we were guilty, which, for all intents and purposes, we probably were. It wouldn’t have taken much for our lips to meet. Andthatwould have been a scandal for the ages. “They’re summoning you. You and Lord Ansel.”
Fear pooled in my belly, but I squeezed his hand for good luck as Tarik stood.
“Whatever happens, I’m with you,” I promised. “Beta Cygni forever.”
That slow-breaking smile was worth everything. He was my twin star.Always.
The waiting was going to kill me.
Every minute that passed by didn’t help.
And when my father finally appeared with Tarik, I couldtell from their faces that things had not gone as expected. Papa’s expression was grim, and Tarik’s was dazed, as if he was still coming to terms with whatever life-altering decision had been made.
“I’m out,” he informed us dully. “I’ll be allowed to get my secondary degree but won’t be welcome to stay at the college, and I’ve lost any chance to be a Fellow. In marginally better news, James Lowry will face immediate expulsion. Ansel provided a statement and evidence of James’s own malicious misconduct, stealing my research papers and conspiring to cheat and discredit me. Turns out the college looks a little more severely on breaches of academic integrity than claiming one’s family is more well-off than they actually are.” He laughed humorlessly. “The duke insisted that such a claim is not irrefutable proof, since wealth can be defined differently. My uncleisan entrepreneur. But Wordsworth wouldn’t budge.”
The idea to introduce Tarik as the nephew of a French count had been mine, but that falsehood had only been made to Blake and my father, if I recalled correctly. Tarik hadn’t impersonated or pretended to be a peer. Most of the others in thetonhad simply assumed he’d come from wealth—an assumption we had not corrected. Still, James’s claims citing Tarik’s lack of moral virtue based on such a fabrication must have stuck.
“And Ansel?” I whispered, staring at my cousin’s nonchalant expression. My father signaled to him, and they both disappeared from the room. No matter what happened, Ansel would be fine. Though he was my coconspirator, he was also a peer, protected by centuries of privilege.
“He will receive his bachelor’s degree.” Tarik sent me areassuring smile. “His work this term really helped him to solidify his learning.”
Astonished, I gaped. “Hiswork?”
“He nearly finished building an incredible telescope from scratch, didn’t you know? It was a rather excellent effort, in my humble estimation. Mr. Peacock confirmed as much.”
