Page 25 of Inventing Vivian

Chapter 6

Vivian was surprised to seea carriage on the road in front of her house when she and Aunt Winifred returned home after their morning visits.

“Are you expecting someone, dear?” Her aunt craned her neck to get a better view out the window.

“Not I,” Vivian replied. She did not receive many visitors, aside from the other members of the Blue Orchid Society, and the carriage did not belong to any of them.

Aunt Winifred pursed her lips. “I can’t for the life of me think who it might be.”

A few moments later, the two entered the house, and Maven, the downstairs maid, met them at the door. “If you please, miss,” she said to Vivian as the ladies removed their gloves, “a gentleman’s here to see you, in the drawing room.”

“A gentleman?” Aunt Winifred smiled brightly, her brows raising and lowering.

“I’m not expecting any gentlemen,” Vivian said, unpinning her hat. “Did he give a name?”

“Professor Wallis,” Maven replied. She took the ladies’ hats and opened a cupboard on the entry hall wall. Inside was a turntable supporting racks that held various-sized hat stands for the assortment of hats in the household. A stranger’s top hat sat on the rack. Maven pulled a lever, rotating the wheel to an empty space, then set the two hats on their stands and pulled another lever. The turntable rotated back to its original position.

“Did the professor say what he wanted?” Vivian asked, listening to the rack turn to ensure there was no squeaking or grinding of the gears. She knew of the professor—he was very famous in academic circles—but she had never had the opportunity to make his acquaintance.

“No, miss. Said only that he was calling on a matter of business.” Maven closed the cupboard.

Vivian nodded.

The corners of Aunt Winifred’s mouth pulled downward in disappointment. “Well, then. I’ll leave you to your guest.” She started up the staircase. “Is Chester in the nursery?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Maven said.

Vivian glanced toward the drawing room, nervous to be welcoming a stranger by herself. She had a tendency to say the wrong thing, especially when she didn’t know a person well. “Did the professor mention anything else?”

“Only that he liked your hat turner,” Maven said.

When Vivian entered the drawing room, a man looked up from where he was examining the extendable lamp she’d created for her father’s reading chair. He retracted the lamp’s stand back into its original position and gave a bow. He was short and soft-looking. His nose was red and bulbous, and warts sprouting thick hairs grew on his chin. His graying hair was thin and showed a line above his ears where his hat had rested. But the features that caught Vivian’s attention were his eyes. They were sharp and filled with intelligence. She could feel that she was being scrutinized.

“Miss Vivian Kirby, I assume?” Seeing her nod, the man smiled and clasped his hands. “Professor Clifford Wallis, at your service.”

“A pleasure, Professor. I’ve read your treatise on thermodynamics.”

The professor’s brows rose. “And what did you think of it, miss?”

“I appreciated your explanation of entropy, especially as it relates to statistical mechanics,” Vivian said. “Although, I do wish you had further discussed how one might more accurately measure the molecular disorder.” She grimaced. She had only met the man a moment ago, and she was already criticizing his work? She tried to think of something to say that would offset her words.

Professor Wallis’s mouth spread in a smile, and he nodded. “A fair assessment, miss. I’ve considered that exact revision for future editions.”

Relieved, she held out a hand, gesturing for him to be seated. “What can I do for you, Professor?”

His grin remained, as did the alertness in his eyes. He sat on the sofa, and she took a seat on a chair facing him. “Well, Miss Kirby,” he said, “I am here on a unique errand, which I will explain in time. But first, I would like to see your mechanized velocipede.”

Vivian started. How had he heard about her invention? She had told very few outside her immediate acquaintances about the Personal Propulsion Vehicle—mainly noblemen, in hopes of gaining a sponsor—but she could think of no reason an academic would have heard of it.

“You have the vehicle here, I assume,” the professor prodded when she didn’t answer.

“Yes, in my workshop.” Vivian stood, snapping herself from her bewilderment. “If you’ll follow me, please, Professor.”

“Very good.”

Vivian led Professor Wallis up the main staircase and then up another and a third. When they reached the top floor, she unlocked the workshop door and held it open.

The man stepped inside and let out a low whistle.

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