Page 17 of Inventing Vivian

“I met him a few days ago,” she explained, her cheeks reddening as she recounted the embarrassing incident.

Hazel smiled and shook her head.

Elizabeth grinned. “Oh, that Chester is a scamp, isn’t he?”

“That is putting it nicely,” Vivian said. She glanced again back at the doorway, and her eyes met Lord Benedict’s.

He inclined his head and smiled.

She looked away quickly. The sight of the man jolted her just as it had before, rekindling the humiliation of being expelled from the Newton League of Young Inventors so many years earlier. She thought she’d put the incident behind her, but seeing him brought it all back. Her stomach felt heavy as the unwelcome memory surfaced.

Vivian, her hair in braids, sat on a hard-backed chair in the reading room of the London Library in Kensington Square. Her legs were too short for her feet to touch the floor, so she held still, not wanting them to swing and make her look childish.

Across the room, Professor Graysom, the league’s instructor, apologized to her father in hushed tones. “I’m sorry, sir. The league is better suited to boys. You must understand, the female brain doesn’t operate in the same manner as a male’s.”

“Preposterous.” Mr. Kirby snorted, the puff of air making his mustache lift and fall. “Vivian is entirely capable of competing with the boys. She’s been tinkering and building contraptions since she was four.” He folded his arms, looking tall and intimidating next to the shorter man. “She understands the laws of physics and the workings of chemistry better than I do.”

Professor Graysom glanced toward Vivian and turned his back, incorrectly assuming that the change in his position would work against the laws of acoustics. “Mr. Kirby, your daughter may well be gifted in the sciences. However, this morning the Duke of Ellingham paid me a visit personally. His son does not think the league should allow females.”

Vivian scowled, glancing toward the closed door of the room where the league meetings were held. Lord Benedict and his friends had teased her since she’d come to the league’s first meeting the day before. He’d been a bully, bumping into her table or taking the rope out of her pulley system just to make the others laugh. She’d resolved to ignore him, and she reminded herself she should pity a person who needed to play cruel tricks for attention.

“And you will let this boy dictate the league’s regulations?” her father said, shaking his head. “Surely you are in charge of this program, not he.”

The professor rubbed the back of his bald scalp. “The duke is the main financial benefactor of the program, you see...”

Hazel nudged Vivian. “There he is.”

Vivian shook herself from the memory. Baron Harrington had indeed arrived. He took a seat on the row behind the Casanovas. The man was slender with thick gray hair and perceptive eyes. She studied him, watching how he interacted with the people around him. He appeared polite and agreeable. Her confidence in her plan grew. As did her nervousness.

Luckily, she did not have to dwell on her worries for long. James Clerk Maxwell was introduced, and once he started talking, Vivian could think of nothing else. She was completely enthralled.

The man’s presentation was fascinating. He was much more dynamic than Vivian had imagined he would be, telling about his discoveries in the realm of electricity and magnetism. He even explained his theories about the composition of Saturn’s rings, which she considered an especially delightful treat. She could not write her notes fast enough.

The time passed so quickly that Vivian could hardly believe three hours had passed when Mr. Maxwell concluded his lecture. She applauded with the rest of the audience and glanced to the side to gauge the reactions of her friends.

Hazel yawned, then looked sheepish. She joined in the applause.

“Is it over already?” Elizabeth said, blinking bleary eyes. She leaned forward, rubbing her lower back and muttering something that sounded like a curse directed at her corset.

Vivian smiled at her friends. She was grateful they’d come for her sake even though the event was not one that appealed to them.

Noise filled the lecture hall as people began to stand, shuffling past to exit their row. Some queued to speak to Mr. Maxwell, while others moved toward the door or stood in groups to visit.

“Are you ready?” Hazel asked.

Vivian took the folder from the bag beneath her seat. She spent a moment pretending to arrange the pages while she calmed her nerves and mentally went over the things she planned to say. She’d rehearsed the lines so often that she worried their delivery wouldn’t sound natural.

Elizabeth and Hazel crossed the room with her but stayed a bit behind as she approached the baron.

Vivian gripped her notebook and folder tighter, stepping forward and lifting her chin. “I beg your pardon, Baron Harrington.”

He turned, his thick brows ticking upward, and gave a small bow. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, miss.”

“Miss Vivian Kirby, my lord.”

His brows remained lifted. “And how can I be of assistance to you, Miss Kirby?”

Vivian took a breath. “Your Lordship, if you please, I have developed and constructed a steam-engine model for the International Exhibition of Industry and Science.” She opened the folder to her engine diagram. “The design, as you can see, is very innovative, a small engine powerful enough to propel a velocipede without excessive weight.” She slid the page aside to reveal a drawing of the engine affixed to the bicycle and pointed to the pistons that turned the wheels. “I hope to eventually convert entirely to oil-based fuel, which will make the Personal Propulsion Vehicle even lighter.”

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