Page 5 of A Spinster’s Folly (Courting the Unconventional #2)

A s the coach rumbled along the uneven road, Eugenie adjusted the cap over her dark-haired wig, her pulse quickening with anticipation.

The mere thought of attending a lecture at Oxford felt like stepping into a dream.

The idea of sitting among scholars, listening to some of the greatest minds of the time, filled her with an exhilaration she had rarely known.

Her lady’s maid, Alice, was far less enthusiastic. “That wig looks ridiculous.”

“It will suffice,” Eugenie replied.

Alice’s gaze roved critically over her attire. “Where, pray tell, did you even find that gown?”

Eugenie adjusted the sleeves of the black academic robe, smoothing the fabric over her slender frame. “I purchased it from a young man who dropped out of university. I need to blend in with the other students.”

“But you aren’t a student.”

“Well, I certainly look like one,” Eugenie countered, her lips quirking into a mischievous smile.

Alice frowned. “No one is going to mistake you for a gentleman. Your skin is too fair, and your features are far too delicate.”

“That is why I will keep my head down and refrain from speaking to anyone,” Eugenie assured her. “No one will pay me any heed.”

“And if they do?” Alice pressed.

Eugenie waved a dismissive hand. “You worry too much. I am attending a lecture, not enlisting in the Royal Army.”

Alice’s frown deepened. “If you are caught, you will be ruined.”

“Which is why I will not be caught.”

“You make it sound so simple?—”

“It is,” Eugenie interjected before Alice could finish.

“I know no one at Oxford, and thus, no one will recognize me.” She hoped that she sounded more confident than she felt.

She fully understood the risks of what she was about to do.

If she were caught, she would be ruined.

Utterly ruined. But she had to at least try to attend this lecture.

Before Alice could protest further, the coach slowed and came to a halt. Eugenie peered out of the small window, her breath hitching as she caught sight of the grand entrance to University College. It was glorious and beautiful. “Wish me luck,” she said, reaching for the handle.

Alice hesitated. “Perhaps I should go with you.”

“If you did, I would surely be caught since lady’s maids do not accompany students,” Eugenie said. “Remain in the coach, and all will be well. I promise.”

“Very well,” Alice conceded, though she looked far from convinced. “I shall take you at your word.”

Eugenie stepped out of the carriage, inhaling deeply. She could do this. Yet, even as she formed the thought, a cold wave of apprehension tightened around her chest, making her rethink everything. Was she being reckless? Had she underestimated the risk ?

Her gloved fingers clenched at the robe as she cast a hesitant glance over her shoulder at the waiting coach, its presence a silent invitation to turn back before it was too late.

The sensible choice would be to retreat, to preserve her reputation before she did something she might come to regret.

But then what? She would spend the rest of her life haunted by uncertainty, forever wondering what might have been.

No. She straightened her shoulders, steeling herself. The path ahead was uncertain, but the regret of not taking it would be far worse.

A footman approached, dipping his head slightly. “Good luck, my lady,” he murmured under his breath.

“Thank you, Bryan,” she replied. She had discreetly slipped both him and the driver a generous portion of her pin money—an unspoken pact sealed with coin and trust. Their silence was essential.

With deliberate calm, she walked towards the entrance, blending seamlessly into the throng of students. The lecture was to be held at Radcliffe Quadrangle, and she needed to find her way there unnoticed.

Keeping her head down, she followed the flow of students, her heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

The first step was complete—she had gained access to the college without drawing suspicion.

With each passing moment, her confidence grew.

She could do this. She would listen to the lecture and return home as if nothing had happened.

As she entered Radcliffe Quadrangle, she noticed a group of students animatedly discussing Newton’s Laws of Physics.

The temptation to linger and listen was strong, but she knew better than to risk unnecessary attention.

However, she was so absorbed in their conversation that she failed to notice where she was going and collided with a solid wall.

No. Not a wall. A man’s chest .

She staggered back, quickly ducking her head. In the deepest voice she could muster, she muttered, “My apologies.”

She attempted to brush past him, but a voice—deep, familiar—stilled her.

“Lady Eugenie?”

Her breath caught. Dread pooled in her stomach. She would know that voice anywhere.

Lord Bedford.

Her mind raced. She had two choices. She could keep walking and feign ignorance, or acknowledge him and accept whatever consequences followed.

Before she could make her decision, Lord Bedford stepped in front of her, his keen eyes locking on to her face. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It is you.”

Knowing her ruse had been discovered, she lifted her gaze. “What are you even doing here?” she demanded, keeping her voice low.

His brow arched. “Me? What are you doing here?”

She squared her shoulders. “I am attending a lecture.”

“Dressed as a man and impersonating a student?” he asked incredulously, his voice rising slightly.

“Shh!” She gestured frantically for him to lower his voice.

Lord Bedford cast a quick glance around them before grasping her arm gently, steering her towards the shadows of the building. “Explain yourself,” he ordered.

Eugenie thought it was best just to tell him the truth and hoped that he would understand. “I wanted to attend the lecture series, but women are not permitted. So, I simply dressed up as a man. Please do not make a big ado about nothing.”

His jaw tightened. “Do you understand what will happen if you are caught? Your reputation would be in tatters.”

“I will not get caught,” she insisted.

He let out a dry chuckle. “And yet, I caught you. ”

“That was purely coincidental,” she argued. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

A shadow passed over his features. “I am here to speak with the Master about my cousin, Philip. He was expelled from University College.”

“That is unfortunate,” Eugenie murmured.

“It is,” Lord Bedford agreed. “But I cannot, in good conscience, go speak with the Master while knowing you are traipsing around Oxford in disguise.”

Eugenie smoothed the fabric of her black academic gown. “You need not concern yourself with me. I will be perfectly fine.”

Lord Bedford crossed his arms. “Does your brother know you are here?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “No. He believes I am visiting with a friend and shopping on High Street.”

“I will escort you back to your coach, and you will return home at once,” he said firmly.

“No.”

His brows furrowed. “No?”

Eugenie lifted her chin defiantly. “I am going to attend the lecture.”

Lord Bedford muttered a curse under his breath before fixing Eugenie with a pointed stare. “Why is this lecture so important to you?”

“I tire of the lectures reserved for women,” she replied. “They are dull, uninspired, and wholly unchallenging. I want to be engaged, to be tested.”

“At the risk of your reputation?” he pressed, his voice edged with concern.

Eugenie knew she likely sounded foolish, taking such a risk, but she wanted more than a life spent idly in a drawing room, awaiting suitors and discussing embroidery. “Yes,” she admitted at last. “I do. ”

Lord Bedford’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And what of Elsbeth’s reputation?”

“What does that have to do with me?”

He unfolded his arms, stepping closer. “If you are caught, it won’t be just your reputation at stake. Your actions will reflect poorly upon your brother and Elsbeth as well,” he stated. “Society has only just begun to welcome her back into its good graces. Do you truly wish to jeopardize that?”

Eugenie knew that he had a point, though she hated to admit it. Risking her own name was one thing, but putting her family in the line of scandal was another entirely. Drat. Why did Lord Bedford have to be right? It was maddening.

“You make a good point,” she conceded begrudgingly. “I will return home.”

Lord Bedford’s shoulders eased, and relief flickered across his face. “Allow me to escort you.”

She shook her head. “There is no need. I am more than capable of returning to my coach unaccompanied.”

“I have no doubt,” he replied, “but it would ease my conscience.”

“All right.” With that, she turned on her heel and started towards the exit.

Lord Bedford matched her stride, falling into step beside her. As they walked, he cast her a sidelong glance. “Dare I ask if you have done this before?”

“I have attended a lecture before, dressed as a man, but this is my first attempt at Oxford,” she confessed. “It seemed like a simple enough feat.”

“And what if the professor had been at the door to greet each student personally?”

Eugenie bit her lower lip. “I suppose that was a possibility I hadn’t considered.”

He let out a short chuckle. “You are far too beautiful to ever be mistaken for a man. ”

A rush of warmth crept up her neck, and she quickly ducked her head to hide the blush forming on her cheeks. She chided herself for having such a reaction. Surely he was merely attempting to flatter her.

They arrived at her coach, where the footman immediately stepped forward and pulled open the door. Eugenie paused, one hand resting on the frame as a thought occurred to her. “Do you intend to tell my brother or Elsbeth about this?”

Lord Bedford studied her for a moment before responding. “Your secret is safe with me,” he said. “But on one condition.”

She narrowed her eyes warily. “And what is that?”