Page 21 of The Butler and the Bluestocking
“True, but such a request would take time that we may not have.”
“The seminars do not begin for another seven days. My brother, Strathnaver, is in York. I believe I could persuade him to provide a special messenger. With Mr. Young in Coventry at this time of year, we could send our note to him and receive his reply within four days, five at the most.”
“That could work, as long as Thomas Young agrees.”
“With Strathnaver’s backing, I do not believe Young will cavil? Meanwhile, I suggest you extend your dinner invitation to Lady Elizabeth Bigglesworth for two days hence. If you are not impressed, I will withdraw my request. However, if you are the least bit impressed by your discussions with her, I insist you grant me the favor of inviting her to speak.”
“Hmm. It would be a stimulating dinner. I’ll have my wife send the invitation. You’ll leave the name and address before you depart tonight?”
“Certainly.”
Nedhelm rang for the port and requested a pen, ink and paper along with the wine and glasses.
Malcom settled back to enjoy an excellent port and consider the ramifications of what he was doing. Would Bess approve? If asked to speak, would she accept the invitation? What of that fear he’d noted when she’d been asked to go out on social calls? Did her fears extend to public speaking? Would this action put him back into her good graces or condemn him to eternal banishment? At the very least it could give him the chance to speak with her at the Antiquarian Society seminar, if not before. Then he smiled. All speakers were invited to a closing supper dance on the evening after the seminars closed. Dancing was not his favorite activity, but he could hold his own on the dance floor. More important, he would enjoy having Bess in his arms. He’d make certain she enjoyed it too.
Chapter Ten
Bess looked up fromher work as the door to the study opened. Their new butler, Ethan Crewe entered with the tea tray. He was a much better butler than Kentigern. No, she must think of him as Mr. Marr or better yet Professor Marr. But then Crewe was a professional and knew his job in ways Professor Marr never could. He always knew where to find things, and his knowledge of social courtesies was extensive. She could not count the number of times she’d had to correct or apologize for some gaff Professor Marr had committed.
“Put it on the table by the fire, please, Crewe. I need to take a pause from my work.”
“An excellent idea my lady. Shall I leave your mail on the table as well.”
Mail?I don’t expect to hear from the publisher about my latest article for several weeks, and Mr. Thomas Young knows I am working as fast as possible. He is going on expedition to Egypt in June and wants the translation verified before he leaves. As it is only April, I have plenty of time. Who else could possibly have anything to say to me in a letter?
“Please, Crewe. Then you may go. I’ll ring when I’ve finished my tea.” She sanded her pages, placed her quill back in its stand and capped the ink well. Then she stood and hurried to sit in one of the chairs near the fireplace. Nothing would be gained by indulging the inexplicable anxiety she felt. It was only megrims over the upcoming presentation ball for Josefina, Iris, and Ivy, which, as a loyal and loving sister, she must attend. Her anxiety had nothing to do with missing a certain scholar. She took several deep breaths as she listened to the study door closing. Pouring a cup of the strong dark EgyptianSaiidistyle tea that Cousin Rose kept on hand, Bess settled back to enjoy a comfortable pause in her day’s exertions. She poured her second cup before opening the one envelope Crewe had left for her.
Dear Lady Elizabeth,
My husband, Nedhelm, and I are great friends of Mr. Thomas Young of the London Royal Society. We have recently learned that you are also acquainted with this gentleman. Hence, we wish to extend an invitation for you to join us for dinner tomorrow night at seven in the evening. Please let us know that you will accept.
With kind regards,
Mrs. Athena Nedhelm
Bess blinked and read the note a second time. The invitation was perfectly proper, except that she had never been introduced to either Mr. or Mrs. Nedhelm. She recognized Nedhelm as the head of the York Antiquarian Society. Indeed, she’d read his papers on the Roman and Viking antiquities of Yorkshire and the insights to be gained therefrom into the area’s history. She would enjoy meeting him and his wife as well as spending an evening of food, wine, and scholarly discourse. She missed her conversations with Kenti—Mr. Marr terribly. Since he left, the most advanced discussions she’d had were with Emma about the reasons York’s persecuted Hebrews sequestered themselves in Cliffords Tower rather than choosing to leave York for a more hospitable town. Professor Marr had clarified many points, but the child continued to raise questions, evidently brought on by her discussions with Ken—Professor Marr.
