Page 18 of Inventing Vivian

Baron Harrington put his hands behind his back, his gaze flitting briefly to the drawings and then back to her. His expression remained politely interested, but beyond that, Vivian couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

She pressed on. “As you know, my lord, the rules state that an entrant to the exhibition requires both an academic and a titled endorsement.”

Her voice faltered, and she swallowed. She could feel heat in her cheeks. “I hoped that once you saw my proposal, you would agree to sponsor me.”

“Oh, I hardly think sponsoring a young lady is appropriate,” Lord Harrington said. He shook his head, looking like a disappointed parent. “Whatever would the baroness say?”

Heat flared over Vivian’s face. “My lord, you would be sponsoring only my scientific work. Notme, exactly.” She cleared her throat. “I know you are a patron of technology and are an organizer of the event. You’ve sponsored various inventors and their inventions. I ask only for a chance. I think my invention can compete at this year’s exhibition.”

“Surely you can find a different hobby, Miss Kirby.” He took the folder from her hands and closed it, not caring that he creased some of the papers inside. “Many young ladies enjoy croquet, or... I don’t know... music of some kind.” He handed the folder back. “You are very pretty. You’ve no need to worry about diagrams and equations. If you want my advice, take up a pastime a husband would approve of.”

Vivian heard Elizabeth’s quick intake of breath. She knew the only reason her friend didn’t jump into the conversation and tell the baron exactly what she thought of his advice was because it would further damage Vivian’s chances of being admitted into the exhibition.

Vivian could feel her lip trembling and fought against it. Weeping was a sure way to ruin her already fragile credibility with the man. She retook the folder and opened it, trying to hold it with her shaking hands and at the same time smooth out the pages. “My lord, if you would just look—”

“Good day, Miss Kirby.” Baron Harrington gave a sharp nod. He spun and departed before she could get out another word.

Vivian could do nothing but watch him go.

“Can you believe the audacity of that man?” Elizabeth said, coming up beside Vivian. “Whatever would the baroness say, indeed? Such rubbish.” She snorted.

“Surely there is someone else here you could ask,” Hazel said, her voice soothing. She took the folder from Vivian’s hand and straightened the papers inside. “You presented yourself so well. Perhaps Sophie’s father would sponsor you.”

Vivian shook her head, knowing full well Lord Mather would be every bit as resistant to the idea as was Baron Harrington and the other noblemen before him.

Disappointment felt crushing after all the anticipation. She’d already approached five other members of the peerage about a sponsorship, and without one of them... She swallowed hard, feeling her dream slipping away and being helpless to stop it.

Her tears choked in her throat, and she started for the door. “I just need to go home,” she whispered.

She wanted to thank her friends for their encouragement. She wanted to hold up her head and approach another peer. She wanted to run after Baron Harrington and tell him how foolish he was. But she could do none of those things, for in that moment, Vivian was just a young girl in the reading room of the London Library, and her hopes were squashed again. Holding back her tears, she walked quickly out of the lecture hall, Elizabeth and Hazel hurrying after her.

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