Page 59

The Commander smiled. “Well, I have brought you someone who will donate her time for free.” He turned to grin at his daughter. “Well, she may require a few cups of tea and a biscuit or two.”

Jonathan turned to the young lady and she noted genuine delight in his face, quite free from the derision that she was usually met with when men discovered her abilities at what was considered to be a most unfeminine subject.

“Truly? Miss Churchill, if you have the talent and are willing to look over my accounts, I should be most grateful.”

Rebecca blinked at him and her father chuckled.

“What my daughter is unwilling to say is that she is surprised that you accept her ability so readily.” The Commander looked proudly at his offspring.

“The truth is that my Becky is a veritable genius with numbers but we have been met with only close-minded prejudice from the academicians that she has approached.” He grunted with irritation.

“They seem to think that mathematics is wholly the province of the masculine mind and that no female could possibly have such a capacity.”

Miss Churchill reached over and patted her father’s arm. “Do not upset yourself, Papa. Their idiocy is not worth bothering ourselves over.” She turned back to the curate. “My father is my greatest advocate.”

Jonathan could see that the young lady was slightly guarded and could easily imagine the prejudice with which she had been confronted.

“Such talent is a gift from God and it is to your credit that you have embraced it in the face of such opposition,” he said before grinning.

“I myself have the gift of baking excellent biscuits, so perhaps we can both ply our talents this afternoon?”

The little cottage was filled with laughter and soon the plan was agreed upon.

The Commander departed on an errand while Rebecca settled at the curate’s desk and was soon deep in concentration.

Jonathan arranged himself in the kitchen, dividing his time between the stove and his sermon for the following Sunday; his discussion with the Churchills had inspired him and he rapidly scratched out a text on why they should embrace all the Lord’s gifts, even when its vessel was unexpected.

He was deep in thought when a movement at the doorway caught his eye.

Looking up, he smiled at the young lady.

“Miss Churchill! Please, come in. Would you like another cup of tea or perhaps a biscuit? These are made with oats and raisins and are still warm. I admit that they are my favorites; when I moved out of my father’s house, I begged his cook for the recipe. ”

Rebecca nodded and took a seat at the table, accepting a biscuit. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, sir.”

“Not at all.” Jonathan was pleased when she nibbled on the biscuit and then took another.

“Our discussion gave me an idea for my sermon this Sunday. I find that I must write down my thoughts as soon as I can or I lose them.” He smiled.

“I’ve taken to keeping paper and pencil in my pocket so that I may jot down notes wherever I am. ”

His admission was greeted with the first open smile he had coaxed from Miss Churchill. “I do something very similar! Really, it was my father’s idea; one morning I doodled equations all over his newspaper before he had a chance to read it.” She smirked at the memory and Jonathan laughed out loud.

Their conversation turned to her success with the ledgers and Jonathan was relieved with her results. The missing funds had not been pilfered but were merely the result of an accidental duplication in billing caused by the short month of February.

There was a pause in the conversation as Jonathan took the moment to check on a roast in the oven. He returned to the table and found the young lady watching him. Checking the teapot and finding the tea to be properly brewed, he strained the leaves and poured two cups.

After taking a sip and smiling with pleasure, Rebecca looked up at the young man. “You have another great talent here, sir. I wish I was as capable with a kettle but I find I always lose track of time and the tea ends up stewing. My mother quite refuses to allow me near a teapot anymore.”

Jonathan grinned. “My Aunt Madeleine taught me. She never married and was forced by economy to make her home in my father’s house toward the end of her life.

” His eyes showed his fondness. “Her rheumatism became quite debilitating when I was still a lad so she made certain that I would be able to prepare her tea as she liked it.”

“Do you visit her often?” Rebecca regretted her question the instant she saw the sadness that flashed across the gentleman’s face.

“She passed away several years ago, not long before I moved to this cottage, in fact.”

Rebecca nodded with understanding and he found himself speaking of his most beloved relative as well as the emptiness he was left with upon her death. Eventually he paused, hearing the mantel clock in the sitting room tolling the hour and amused to find himself talking so much.

“You are a remarkable young lady, Miss Churchill. It is not often that I encounter someone with such ready empathy.”

Rebecca turned her dark blue eyes on the young cleric and he was struck with the feeling that she could see straight into his very soul.

“If we are being honest, I must say that I was quite surprised by your youth. Papa has said a great deal about your work at St. Elmo’s and you are not at all what I pictured,” she replied.

Jonathan shrugged and tucked his chin. Normally he would brush aside comments on his age with a joke about the na?veté of youth making him the only one stupid enough to attempt such an endeavor, but he was somehow certain that anything but the absolute truth would be detected instantly by those intent blue eyes.

After a moment of quiet, Miss Churchill seemed to realize that she had embarrassed the young man and began to apologize. “I am sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable…”

Jonathan tried to force himself to speak, absently wondering what it was about this girl that seemed to destroy his usual composure.

Meanwhile, Rebecca was still attempting to apologize. “I did not mean it as a criticism at all…”

Finally, the curate was forced to interrupt. “Miss Churchill, I admit to being somewhat embarrassed but rest assured that I did not take offence at your comment.”

The young lady met his eyes and seemed reassured by what she saw there. She nodded slowly. “It’s just that… I sometimes think it unfair that the world is controlled by those who are older but so often it’s the young people who have the vision and the desire to change things.”

Jonathan leaned forward, instantly transfixed by the fire he glimpsed. In that moment, he recognized Miss Rebecca Churchill as a kindred spirit, though she kept her true self hidden under tight control in most society.

He grinned, and Rebecca was left blinking at how the expression of heartfelt joy transformed the young man’s face.

“I completely agree, Miss Churchill. When we are young and just learning, we see all that is wrong or illogical… but everyone tells us that we must keep our heads down and not of fend our elders… that we will have our chance someday, but I fear that by that time, we will no longer feel such energy… such zeal… to reform. Does that sound right?”

But Rebecca was already agreeing with him.

“Yes!” For some minutes, she spoke about her love of mathematics; how it was so easy for her, how the numbers and symbols seemed to dance in her mind some nights until she was forced to get up and write them out; derivations as beautiful to her as any David or Mona Lisa.

Then she spoke of the shock when her father had taken her to Cambridge and attempted to introduce her to his old mathematics professors.

Those men had dismissed her; some assumed her father was attempting to play some sort of prank on them while others openly jeered her as ‘unnatural’ and told her to go home and practice her embroidery.

Rebecca had reentered their carriage in tears with her father fuming by her side.

However, once she had cried her fill, she had curled up at his side and begun to plot.

With her father’s permission (and often his connivance) she had begun corresponding with mathematicians at St. Andrews, leading Mrs. Churchill to comment that her countrymen would recognize their daughter’s brilliance, even if the English were too hidebound with prejudice to do so.

Jonathan was fascinated by the young lady’s description of how she was managing to consult with other mathematicians on her work by correspondence, signing herself only as ‘R. A. Churchill.’ She had put aside her anger and disappointment and now appeared only somewhat amused at how her correspondents all assumed she was a man.

Their conversation continued for the better part of the afternoon and only ended when the Commander returned to the parsonage to retrieve his daughter.

The older gentleman was pleased to see the pair enjoying each other’s company.

Jonathan was invited to dinner at the Churchill residence and they parted in laughter when he offered to bring a pudding.

The two young people spent a great deal of time together over the following months and their mutual respect and affection continued to deepen.

When the engagement of Mr. Jonathan de Bourgh to Miss Rebecca Churchill was announced not four months after their first meeting, several girls in his parish church burst into tears even as the Commander boasted to his amused wife that he had made the match himself.