“Even in the rain?”
“Children don’t melt,” one mother promised him. He prayed that was true.
Gemma busied herself serving sherry, ale, and thick sandwiches that Ned had paid the Widow Smethers to make. The bread was fresh and the meat the finest the village could offer.
Because so many from the surrounding areas traveled to take part in the Cotillion, there were a number of new faces for the lecture. This was how Ned had designed his venture. His purpose was to introduce scientific ideas to the largest number of people possible. To open minds. A noble purpose, and right now he wasn’t certain if anything mattered.
Mars arrived with Balfour, and it was good to have his two best friends present. When Squire Nelson cornered Balfour to talk about a drainage issue he was having, Mars leaned over to Ned. “Has a night’s sleep brought you to your senses? Are you still determined to marry her?”
“Stop it.”
The earl shrugged. “Well, then, go greet your betrothed.” He nodded to Clarissa, who had arrived with Mrs. Warbler.
At the same moment Clarissa looked across the main taproom to Ned. Her face was pale, as if she hadn’t slept well, either. Their gazes met and then she looked away, her expression cold.
God help him. He was badgered from every side.
“Run,” Mars whispered again and went off to pay his respects to the dowager, who had surprised Ned with her appearance. He wouldn’t have imagined her interested in astronomy. Or were some women here just to be present?
Gemma came up to Ned. “I believe your lecturer is at the door.” These were the first words she’d said to him since he’d arrived.
And there was so much he wanted to say to her—except, standing in the middle of all of Maidenshop crowded into the tight space around them was not the time.
So he went over to greet his guest. Thaddeus Frost, an officious man with graying hair, thin legs, and a protruding belly. Frost’s clothes appeared as if they had been stored in a hamper and just been removed.
Ned held out his hand. He knew Frost would be happy with the size of the gathering. There were twice as many people as Ned had promised. “Sir, it is my pleasure. I’m Mr. Ned Thurlowe. I invited you.”
Frost ignored his hand. His priggish eyes narrowed behind his wired spectacles. He surveyed the gathering with distaste. “What is this?”
“This is the crowd gathered to hear your lecture. Impressive, no?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Are you deaf?”
Ned was taken aback. “I hear quite well. However, I may not have understood you. I have the impression you are offended. Is something the matter?”
“Something the matter? I came here to speak to scholars.”
Ned nodded with understanding. “Trust me, there are some keen minds in the room. Of course, many are laymen with a casual interest in the topic you will present.” That was just remotely true. “It is my fervent hope that your ideas will be so engaging, you will spur many of us to want to know more.”
“I don’t engage people.” Frost moved to the side of the door. “I pontificate.”
Conscious that this conversation was starting to draw attention, Ned kept his manner pleasant. “Ah, well, we are ready for pontification. In fact, it is almost on the hour. May I summon a refreshment for you? We have a podium set up for you over here.” Last year Woodman had built one for Ned and he was quite proud of it.
“Are you deliberately mistaking my meaning?” the academic demanded, his voice rising. Others in the crowd became quiet. “I can’t speak to these people.”
“Why not?”
Frost looked around the room, unperturbed that his people had quieted. He returned his gaze to Ned and said, “There are women here.”
“Yes, there are.”
“I was told that I was speaking to the Logical Men’s Society.”
“And our guests.” Ned knew very well exactly what he’d written in the invitation.
“But some are women.” Frost spoke as if that should explain everything.
“Yes, some. Some are not.”
“Women will never grasp the concepts of my ideas.”
A year ago, even a few months ago, Ned would have agreed. He’d never attended a lecture that included women. He’d never intended for his lecture series to have females in the audience.
That was before Gemma.
Gemma, whose bright mind captivated him. Gemma, who insisted he discuss matters with her as an equal. Gemma, who understood types of healing far better than he.
Ned looked into his guest’s nearsighted eyes and realized that before Gemma, he’d been in danger of being like Frost. The man’s narrow-mindedness curdled his stomach.
Ned spoke. “Knowledge, especially pertaining to natural philosophy, should be of interest for everyone. We all live in this world and I believe it is important to understand it. The people here, including the females, have gathered to honor you by listening to your theories, sir, something you are not allowed to share in London. The women gathered here have sharp intellects and a curiosity that rivals their male counterparts. I will not have you insult them. Now, are you ready to speak? It is growing past the hour.”
By now, everyone was paying attention. The room was very quiet as if all waited for the lecturer’s response, and it was one few would forget.
Frost’s face grew an alarming shade of purple. “I do not share my ideas with women. I see no reason to waste the words. Good day, Doctor.” On that announcement, Frost marched right out the door.
Ned had a good mind to grab him by the collar and drag him back into The Garland so he could throw him out. He’d paid the bastard ten pounds to make the trip and speak.
And for what? So that he could walk into the village and insult people who mattered to Ned? Who were part of his life?
The sound of clapping pulled him out of his haze of anger.
Ned looked around. Men and women were applauding him. The sound grew as they came to their feet.
“Well done, sir,” Royce called.
“Excellent,” the dowager said.
“That was better than any lecture,” Mars announced, a sentiment that was seconded all the way around.
However, the opinion that mattered to Ned was Gemma’s. He searched the room for her and found her standing next to Mrs. Warbler and Clarissa. Gemma was clapping as hard as anyone. He wanted to tell her that he’d found the wherewithal to refuse Frost’s demands from her.
She’d changed him. He was not the man she’d first met.
Gemma spoke up, telling people they would still enjoy themselves. “There is plenty of food.”
The Dawson brothers announced they would take on all comers bowling, at least until it started to rain, and the matrons quickly gathered to gossip. Ned marveled at how his friends and neighbors all made the most of what, to him, had been at first a disastrous situation.
Instead, he realized he was surrounded by good company.
That is when Clarissa chose to speak.
No one heard her at first. Ned saw her lips moving; he didn’t know why—and then she stood on one of the chairs. “Please,” she shouted. “I have something to say.”
Because she was standing over them, people grew quiet and looked up at her with curiosity.