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"Your influence was certainly catalytic," he acknowledged.

"But I believe the potential was already present, merely dormant.

My father apparently held educational ideals similar to those I'm now pursuing, though circumstances prevented their implementation during his lifetime.

And there have always been aspects of conventional wisdom regarding social hierarchy that troubled me, even when I accepted them as inevitable. "

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Perhaps what your challenging perspectives provided was not so much new ideas as permission to question assumptions I had previously accepted without examination. To consider whether traditions might be improved rather than merely preserved."

Meredith's expression suggested his answer had satisfied some deeper question than the one she had explicitly asked.

"That's a more thoughtful response than I expected," she admitted.

"Did you anticipate something less reflective?" Chilton asked, genuinely curious.

"I wondered if your educational initiatives might be motivated primarily by..." She hesitated, seemingly searching for the right words.

"By personal interest in the messenger rather than conviction about the message?" Chilton suggested, completing her unspoken thought.

The directness brought colour to her cheeks, but she met his gaze steadily. "Yes. And I would have understood if that were the case. Many worthy causes advance through personal connections rather than pure principle."

"I cannot claim perfect objectivity," Chilton admitted.

"Your passion for education undoubtedly made the subject more compelling than dry theoretical arguments might have done.

But Mary Williams' eager mind exists whether you advocate for it or not.

The potential wasted through lack of opportunity is real regardless of who brings it to attention. "

He turned slightly to face her more directly. "The message stands on its own merits, Meredith. Though I freely acknowledge that the messenger has affected me in ways that extend beyond educational philosophy."

The admission hung between them, neither a declaration nor a casual observation but something in between. For a moment, Meredith seemed at a loss for response, her usual composure temporarily shaken by his candour.

Before she could reply, the peaceful scene was interrupted by the arrival of a group of schoolboys with their tutor. The moment of intimate connection dissolved as Chilton and Meredith stepped aside to let them pass.

"Perhaps we should continue our walk," Chilton suggested, offering his arm once more.

"Yes, let's," Meredith agreed, placing her hand on his sleeve with slightly less hesitation than before.

As they resumed their stroll, the conversation shifted back to safer ground—curriculum approaches, teacher training methods, strategies for involving parents in their children's education. Yet something had fundamentally changed between them, an invisible barrier lowered if not entirely removed.

"I've been corresponding with Reverend Harrington about religious instruction," Chilton mentioned. "He's remarkably progressive for a country vicar—believes girls should receive the same theological education as boys."

"How refreshing," Meredith said with genuine approval. "We've encountered significant resistance from certain religious quarters in Oxford."

"Harrington would disagree vehemently," Chilton smiled. "He quoted Scripture to me—'in Christ there is neither male nor female'—as justification for educational equality."

"Scripture can be revolutionary when read with open eyes rather than predetermined conclusions," Meredith observed. "My father often said that the most dangerous reader is one who truly engages with a text rather than simply confirming what they already believe."

"Your father sounds like a remarkable man," Chilton said, noting how her expression softened at the mention of him. "You must miss him greatly."

"Every day," Meredith acknowledged quietly. "He was my first and most influential teacher. Not just in academic subjects, but in how to think, how to question, how to defend principles without becoming rigid."

"He would be proud of what you're accomplishing in Oxford," Chilton said with certainty. "Creating opportunities that might otherwise never exist."

As they completed a circuit of the park and approached the carriage once more, they slowed their pace, reluctant to end the conversation that had flowed so naturally between them.

"Will you return to Oxford tomorrow?" Chilton asked, the question casual though its implications were not.

"The day after," Meredith replied. "My mother extracted a promise that I would accompany her to a modiste appointment tomorrow. A small concession to secure her blessing for today's outing."

"Lady Hartford drives a hard bargain," Chilton observed with a smile. "Though I cannot fault her desire for your company."

The compliment brought a becoming flush to Meredith's cheeks. "And you? Will you return to Sutcliffe directly after Lady Evangeline's musical evening?"

"That was my intention," Chilton confirmed. "Though I find London suddenly more appealing than it was yesterday."

The implied reason for his changed assessment hung unspoken between them as they reached the waiting carriage. Chilton assisted Meredith inside, conscious of the afternoon's waning light.

"I've monopolized your afternoon," Chilton realized as they approached Lady Hartford's residence. "You'll scarcely have time to prepare for this evening's gathering."

"I've enjoyed every moment," Meredith assured him with a directness that seemed to surprise even her. "Besides, my mother will undoubtedly have ensured my evening attire is prepared to exacting standards."

"Then I shall look forward to seeing you at Berkeley Square," Chilton said as the carriage halted. "Perhaps we might continue our discussion during a break in the musical performances."

"I would like that," Meredith replied, her smile genuine as he handed her down from the carriage.

At the doorstep, they paused, the moment of parting suddenly awkward after the easy companionship of their afternoon.

"Thank you for agreeing to our outing," Chilton said formally, conscious of potentially observing eyes from neighbouring houses. "It has been most illuminating."

"Indeed it has," Meredith agreed, her tone equally proper though a gleam of humour in her eyes acknowledged the inadequacy of such conventional phrases. "Until this evening, Lord Sutcliffe."

"Until this evening, Miss Martin," he replied, bowing slightly.

As Chilton returned to his carriage, he reflected on the afternoon's developments. Although they had ostensibly met to discuss educational initiatives, something more significant had evolved beneath the surface—a deepening connection that transcended mere intellectual compatibility.

Later that evening, as they attended Lady Evangeline's musical gathering, their evolving relationship continued to develop through shared appreciation of the performances and further discussions during intermission.

Finding himself reluctant to part at evening's end, Chilton asked if he might call on Meredith the following morning.

"That would be agreeable," she said after a moment's hesitation. "Though my mother will undoubtedly draw significant conclusions from a second consecutive day of your company."

"Would such conclusions disturb you?" Chilton asked, more directly than he had intended.

"That depends," Meredith replied thoughtfully, "on whether they align with your actual intentions."

The candid response deserved equal honesty. "My intentions are evolving, Meredith," he said quietly. "But they include a desire to continue our association beyond these London encounters. In what capacity remains to be determined, with your input being essential to that determination."

Colour rose to her cheeks, but her gaze remained steady. "A diplomatic answer worthy of a statesman," she observed, her tone warm. "I shall expect you at ten tomorrow, then. Early enough to avoid my mother's most elaborate speculations, though not her fundamental awareness."

As his carriage made its way through London's darkened streets afterward, Chilton realized with sudden clarity that his life had been fundamentally altered by his acquaintance with Meredith Martin.

Whatever the ultimate outcome of their association, he could never return to the complacent acceptance of conventional wisdom that had characterized his approach before meeting her.

For that transformation alone, he would always be grateful to the passionate bluestocking who had dared to challenge his assumptions and, in doing so, had helped him discover aspects of himself he had never fully recognized.