Page 10 of An Inventor and An Inconvenience (Gentleman Scholars #5)

F aith needed to clear her head after their discovery in the hidden chamber. The ancient texts hinted at so much knowledge waiting to be uncovered, yet here she was, sneaking around like a thief just to access learning that should be freely available.

She found herself walking through Oxford's winding streets, barely noticing the familiar path until she emerged into the market square. The late afternoon sun caught the shop windows, including the newly cleaned glass of Mrs. Henderson's millinery shop.

Faith slowed her steps, watching as the widow worked with her young assistant. Instead of merely directing the girl's work, Mrs. Henderson stood at her side, patiently demonstrating how to measure and calculate the materials needed for a new hat. The girl's face lit with understanding as she grasped the mathematical principle involved.

Something about the scene made Faith pause. Here was education happening naturally, practical knowledge being passed on without ceremony or restriction. Mrs. Henderson caught her watching and gave a knowing smile, one that suggested she understood exactly what had caught Faith's attention.

Making a mental note to return when the shop was less busy, Faith continued her walk, mind churning with possibilities. The hidden chamber's texts proved that Oxford had once valued knowledge enough to protect it at any cost. Perhaps what was needed now wasn't just the recovery of lost books, but new ways of sharing their contents with those who hungered to learn.

The thought sustained her as she turned back toward home, where Jasper would be waiting to continue their research. They had uncovered one chamber, but Faith suspected there were more secrets yet to discover — both in Oxford's walls and in its people.

~~~~

Faith's hands were trembling as she transcribed the Latin text by candlelight. Her father's study felt different at night — more intimate, somehow, as though the countless books surrounding her were waiting to share their secrets. She'd been at this for hours, cross-referencing the documents they'd discovered with her father's ancient texts, but her excitement hadn't dimmed.

"You're still awake."

Faith started at her father's voice. She hadn't heard him approach, too absorbed in her work. "Father! I was just… I didn’t expect anyone else to be up at this hour." She hesitated, unsure how much to reveal.

Professor Somerton moved into the room, his dressing gown wrapped tightly against the night's chill. Instead of the reprimand she expected, he picked up one of her transcriptions, studying it with familiar scholarly intensity.

"These references," he said quietly, "remind me of something I saw years ago, in an old manuscript about the Oxford Preservation Society."

He looked at her carefully. "You've found something significant, haven't you?"

Faith took a deep breath.

"Yes," she admitted. "We found a hidden chamber today, Father. With books that might have been saved from the papal purge."

To her surprise, she found herself telling him about their discovery, the cataloguing system they'd found, and their growing certainty that there might be more chambers.

Her father listened without interruption, his expression thoughtful. When she finished, he was silent for a long moment.

"You know," he said finally, "your mother was the one who taught me that knowledge doesn't belong to any one group."

He smiled sadly. "She would have loved seeing you like this, pursuing truth wherever it leads you."

Faith felt tears prick at her eyes. They so rarely spoke of her mother. "Even if it leads me places a woman isn't supposed to go?"

"Perhaps especially then." He sat down heavily in his favourite chair. "I haven't always supported your curiosity as I should have, Faith. Fear of scandal, of what my colleagues would say... I let it overshadow what I knew was right."

"You've given me more freedom than most," she said softly. "At least you never sent me away when you caught me reading your books."

"No, I just pretended not to notice." He sighed, running a hand over his worn face. "Half-measures, when I should have had the courage to truly support you. But perhaps it's not too late to do better."

He leaned forward to examine her notes more closely. "Tell me about these references you're working on. The cataloguing system seems quite sophisticated for that period."

Faith blinked back her tears, grateful for his shift to scholarly discourse.

"Yes, look here," she pointed to her careful transcription. "They created a system using architectural features as reference points. Each location is marked in relation to specific buildings or rooms."

They bent their heads together over the text, father and daughter working as true colleagues for the first time. Hours slipped by as they decoded line after line, Professor Somerton's classical expertise complementing Faith's understanding of Oxford's architecture.

"It's a map," Faith breathed finally, sitting back as the pattern emerged. "Not just to physical locations, but to a whole system of hidden chambers. Each one contains different texts, preserved for future scholars."

"Sometimes," he said carefully, "knowledge itself can be dangerous — not because of what it is, but because of who might try to suppress it."

He gave her a meaningful look. "Rather like the way some try to suppress education for women."

"That's why I want to start a school," Faith found herself saying.

She hadn't meant to reveal this dream to him, but the intimacy of the moment drew the words out. "Not just for wealthy girls, but for any girl who wants to learn. To ensure knowledge isn't kept from half the population simply because of their gender."

She waited tensely for his response, but her father merely nodded thoughtfully. "And this treasure hunt — the books you're seeking — they would help fund such an endeavour?"

"If we find them," Faith admitted.

"Lady Beaverbrook has offered her support, but..." She twisted her hands in her lap. "Father, what if we're wrong? What if we're chasing shadows and putting ourselves at risk for nothing?"

"The pursuit of knowledge always involves risk," he said gently. "The question is whether you believe the potential discovery is worth it."

Faith thought of the hidden chamber, of the carefully preserved texts that had survived centuries to reach them. Most of all, she thought of all the girls like her, desperate to learn, to understand, to contribute to the world's knowledge.

"It is worth it," she said firmly. "Even if we don't find what we expect, the journey itself..."

She gestured to their shared work, to this unprecedented night of collaborative scholarship with her father.

"Some discoveries aren't about treasure at all."

Her father smiled, and for a moment she saw the passionate young scholar he must have been, the man who had fallen in love with her equally curious mother.

"Then perhaps it's time I gave you this." He stood and went to his desk, unlocking a drawer she'd never seen opened before.

Professor Somerton returned with a small leather-bound journal, its pages yellow with age.

"This was your mother's," he said softly. "She had her own theories about Oxford's hidden chambers. I always thought them fanciful, but now..."

He held the journal out to Faith. "Perhaps she understood something the rest of us didn't."

Faith's hands shook as she accepted the book. She'd seen her mother's portrait, of course, hanging in the hall upstairs, but she'd never held anything that had belonged to her before. Opening it carefully, she found pages filled with elegant handwriting, architectural sketches, and detailed notes about Oxford's oldest buildings.

"She was mapping the old passages," Faith whispered, recognition dawning as she compared her mother's drawings to their recent discoveries. "Father, look — she'd found references to some of these same chambers!"

Together, they spread her mother's journal alongside their current notes. Faith's heart raced as connections began emerging. Her mother's careful observations about the placement of certain architectural features aligned perfectly with the coded references in their newly discovered texts.

"Here," Faith said, pointing to a particular passage. "She wrote about a series of connected chambers beneath the old library wing. And look at these notations — they're measurements, dimensions of spaces that don't appear on any official plans."

Her father leaned closer, adjusting his spectacles. "Your mother always said the old buildings held more secrets than anyone suspected. She spent hours studying the architectural histories."

Faith quickly consulted an architectural reference from her father's shelf. "According to this, these passages would have been sealed during the renovations in the 1500s. But if Mother's measurements are correct..."

"The spaces would still exist behind the newer walls," her father finished. "Hidden, but preserved."

Faith barely heard him, too absorbed in her mother's notes. Each page revealed new insights, new connections. When she finally looked up, tears were streaming down her face.

"She was brilliant," Faith whispered. "All this work, all these discoveries, and no one knew."

"I knew," her father said quietly. "It was one of the reasons I fell in love with her. She saw the world differently than anyone else I'd ever met."

He smiled sadly at his daughter. "Rather like you do."

"Is that why you let me stay in your study? Why you never truly tried to stop me from learning?"

"Perhaps. Though I wasn't always as brave about it as she would have been." He touched the journal gently. "She would have wanted you to have this. To finish what she started."

After her father excused himself to prepare for his morning lecture, Faith remained in the study, carefully examining her mother's journal. The pages were filled with elegant handwriting, architectural sketches, and detailed notes about Oxford's oldest buildings.

A soft knock at the study door made her look up. Jasper stood in the doorway, his expression concerned.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," he said quietly. "I saw the light still on. I couldn't sleep—been working for hours in the laboratory, but my device continues to fail. I couldn't bear the solitude a moment longer."

He hesitated. "I thought perhaps we could review those manuscripts we found—" He stopped, noticing her reddened eyes. "Faith? What's wrong?"

She held up her mother's journal. "My father gave me this. It's... it changes everything, Jasper. Look."

Jasper moved closer, acutely aware of Professor Somerton's presence as Faith showed him her mother's notes.

A complicated mix of emotions washed over him — genuine excitement for Faith's discovery warring with a sharp pang of envy. Here was a father actually supporting his child's scholarly pursuits, even if belatedly.

Would his own father ever look at his work with such acceptance?

He pushed the bitter thoughts aside, focusing instead on the architectural drawings before them.

"These notes are remarkable," he said, genuinely impressed despite his inner turmoil. "Your mother's research, combined with what we found... Faith, we might actually be able to locate these chambers."

"But we'll need to be careful," Faith said. "If anyone realizes what we're doing..."

"Then we'll be subtle," Jasper said softly, thinking of his own secret work in the laboratory.

At least his mining device gave him a legitimate reason to be at Oxford, even if its progress remained frustratingly slow. "We'll take our time, do this properly."

"You'll need a proper cover story," Professor Somerton said, surprising them both. "A reason to be researching old architectural plans without drawing attention."

He smiled slightly at Jasper. "Perhaps something about the structural integrity of the older buildings? That would explain why an engineering student might be consulting historical documents."

The casual way Professor Somerton included him in their plans made Jasper's chest tight.

If only his own father could show such interest in his work, such willingness to engage with his passions. Instead, the Marquess's latest letter lay unopened in his coat pocket, likely containing yet another demand to abandon his 'foolish tinkering' and return to proper noble pursuits.

As the first light of dawn began creeping through the study window, the three of them bent over their combined notes. Jasper watched Faith's face glow with excitement as she traced connections between her mother's journal and their discoveries, her father offering gentle corrections to her Latin translations.

The scene stirred a complex mixture of joy and longing in his chest — joy for Faith finding this connection with her father, and longing for what he might never have with his own.

But when Faith looked up at him with shining eyes, sharing her excitement so openly, Jasper found he couldn't hold onto his melancholy.

Whatever his father's opinions, Jasper was part of something remarkable here. And perhaps, if he could perfect his mining device while helping Faith with her search, he might finally prove himself worthy of the Linford name in a way that even the Marquess couldn't dismiss.

~~~~

Faith stretched, realizing the morning light had shifted to afternoon while she'd been absorbed in her work. Her father's study lay quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock and Lucy's careful movements as she cleared away the morning's tea things.

"Miss Faith?" Lucy's voice was barely a whisper as she stacked the cups. She glanced at the door as though afraid of being overheard. "Might I ask you something?"

Faith set aside her notes. "Of course."

"It's just..." Lucy twisted her apron between her fingers. "My friend Mary, who works in the college kitchen... she heard about how you helped me with my letters. She was wondering..."

Faith's heart leaped. "Would she like to learn as well?"

Lucy nodded eagerly. "There's a few of us, actually. We talk sometimes, about wishing we could read proper-like." She ducked her head. "Not that we're asking for anything improper, miss. Just... maybe sometimes, if you had a spare moment..."

Faith thought of the ancient texts she'd been studying, filled with knowledge that could change lives if only it were shared more freely. Here was a chance to do more than just hunt for lost books — she could help create new readers for them.

"Lucy," she said carefully, "how many girls are we talking about?"

The answer made her mind race with possibilities — and complications. She would need a proper meeting place, away from prying eyes. And suddenly, she remembered Mrs. Henderson's knowing smile. Perhaps it was time to pay the widow a visit.