Page 41 of Inventing Vivian

Dahlia fluffed the booth’s curtains. “Just wait until he sees the PPV,” she said. “He’ll be so impressed, you’ll leave him speechless.”

“Nowthatwould be a definite improvement to his character,” Elizabeth said.

Vivian laughed along with the others. “I agree.”

“I fear I’ve missed the joke,” a familiar voice said behind Vivian.

She turned, her smile still on her face. “Professor Wallis. I’m so pleased to see you.”

He tipped his hat and inclined his head. “You appear in good spirits, Miss Kirby.”

“I am indeed.” She stepped aside so he could have a full view of her booth. “What do you think?”

“Very impressive,” he said, moving closer to study the diagrams. “You’ve done a fine job.” He turned, looking at the empty space in the center of the booth and to the aisle beyond as if estimating whether she had sufficient room to demonstrate her invention. “You’ve kept your vehicle at home, I see.”

“I worried it would get damaged with the crowds,” she said. “And I didn’t want to leave it here for the entire weekend. I hoped to oil the parts on Sunday night.”

“As long as it’s here Tuesday for opening day. Make sure to be early. The judges will visit the displays in the morning.”

“I will.”

He glanced around the space. “You may want a table. A small one will do. Have you business cards and handbills to pass out?”

“No,” Vivian said. She glanced at her friends, feeling a touch of panic. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Making contacts with others in the field is one of the purposes of the exhibition. Manufacturers and other inventors will be interested in you, and you in them.”

“I can help with handbills and cards,” Sophie said, coming to stand with Vivian. “There are still three days until the exhibition. Plenty of time.”

Vivian gave her friend a grateful smile. “Professor, I beg your pardon. I neglected to introduce my friends. This is Lady Sophronia, Miss Thornton, Miss Lancaster, and Miss Miller.” She motioned to each woman in turn. “Ladies, please meet my sponsor, Professor Clifford Wallis.”

The ladies and the professor exchanged greetings.

“Lady Sophronia, I recognize your name,” Professor Wallis said. “I believe you are the owner ofThe London Police News?”

“I am.”

“A lady news editor. Your parents must be very proud.”

Sophie grimaced. “They are slowly becoming accustomed to the idea,” she said. “I imagineproudis still a long way off.”

“But it will come,” he said. He took her hand in both of his, patting it gently. His expression seemed very wise, and Vivian was certain he spoke from experience.

“Thank you, sir,” Sophie said, a small catch in her voice.

The professor released her hand and stepped back, his face resuming its cheerfulness. “You’ve a fine crew here, Miss Kirby. And your booth is excellent. The only other advice I can give you is to work on your presentation. You’ll deliver it hundreds of times, and it is wise to have it memorized. Other than that, you should simply enjoy the exhibition. It promises to be the best yet.”

He tipped his hat again and departed.

“What a pleasant man,” Hazel said. She glanced at Sophie as if considering how his words had been received.

“He certainly is,” Vivian agreed.

“If only all men could be happy for an intelligent woman’s success,” Elizabeth said, “instead of threatened.” She gave a pointed look toward Mr. Fernsby’s booth.

The pistol inventor stood with a group of men, their heads together, speaking in low voices. Occasionally one glanced toward Vivian’s booth.

Vivian’s cheeks grew hot. She was certain they were talking about her, and from their body language, she deduced the things they were saying to be less than complimentary.

She turned away, pushing aside her worries and remembering what Professor Wallis had said. “The greater one’s struggle, the sweeter her success,” she muttered to herself, lifting her head high. She was prepared, and with her friends to support her, she, Vivian Kirby, could do anything.

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