Page 17 of An Inventor and An Inconvenience (Gentleman Scholars #5)

F aith had to work hard to turn her attention back to her educational endeavours after the excitement of treasure hunting. She turned Jasper's words over in her mind as she arranged simple wooden blocks and rope on the table in Mrs. Henderson's upstairs room.

"The principle of mechanical advantage," he had explained, sketching quick diagrams, "means that even a small force, properly applied, can move great weights."

The conversation had sparked something in her mind—a way to make abstract concepts tangible for her students. If they could see and touch the principles at work...

She tested the makeshift pulley system she'd constructed, satisfied with how smoothly it operated. The regular lessons in reading, writing, and arithmetic had been going well, but she'd noticed how the girls' eyes lit up whenever she incorporated practical demonstrations into her teaching.

“It's rather like you with your father's engineering texts,” Jasper had said yesterday, standing close beside her as they prepared the demonstrations.

His voice had dropped lower, meant only for her ears. “That same spark of understanding, of possibilities opening up.”

The memory of his nearness, of how his finger had accidentally brushed hers as they arranged the equipment, made her pulse quicken even now. She'd noticed he seemed to find more reasons for their hands to meet lately — passing tools, sharing books, pointing out particular mechanisms. Each touch, though fleeting and proper, seemed to carry more weight than the last.

Lucy caught her wool gathering and gave her a knowing smile. “Lord Jasper's coming to observe again today, isn't he, Miss Faith?”

“The demonstrations are more effective with both of us here to explain them,” Faith said primly, though she couldn't quite suppress her own smile.

Lucy had arrived first, as always, her face brightening at the sight of the unusual setup. "What's all this, Miss Faith?"

"Today," Faith smiled carefully, "we're going to see how understanding simple machines can make your household duties easier."

Though she knew, and her students were beginning to understand, that these same principles governed far more than just kitchen tools.

As the other girls filtered in, Faith saw their curious glances at the equipment. Even Annie, still nervous after her close call with the housekeeper, seemed intrigued.

"Watch this," Faith said, once they were all settled. She placed a heavy book on one end of a wooden plank, then demonstrated how placing a small block underneath created a lever. "Now, who would like to try lifting this book with just one finger?"

The demonstration produced exactly the reaction she'd hoped for. The girls gathered around, exclaiming in delight as they each took turns lifting the heavy book with minimal effort. Their excitement grew as Faith showed them different arrangements, explaining how changing the position of the fulcrum affected the force needed.

"But Miss Faith," Mary asked, her brow furrowed in concentration, "how does this help us in our work?"

"Think about it," Faith encouraged. "When you're moving heavy pots in the kitchen, or lifting loaded laundry baskets—"

"Or trying to shift those enormous flour sacks in the pantry!" Annie exclaimed. "Is that why Mr. Filbert always has us use that rolling pole thing?"

"Exactly!" Faith beamed. "That's another simple machine called a roller. And the principle is the same—"

A sharp rap at the door cut her off. Mrs. Henderson entered, her face tight with worry. "There's a gentleman asking questions in the shop. About why so many young women have been seen coming and going."

Faith's heart stuttered. They'd been so careful about staggering arrivals and departures.

"Did he say who he was?"

"No, but he's dressed like a university man." Mrs. Henderson wrung her hands. "I told him they were all here for millinery lessons, but I'm not sure he believed me."

Faith quickly helped the girls hide the evidence of their true studies, her mind racing. The scientific demonstrations, while effective, were certainly more noticeable than quiet reading lessons. Had their success made them careless?

After the girls had slipped away through the back entrance, Faith stayed to help Mrs. Henderson straighten the room. As she gathered her teaching materials, something caught her eye—a folded paper that must have fallen from one of the books.

Her hands trembled as she opened it. The message was brief, written in a careful hand that suggested disguise:

Your activities encouraging servants above their proper station have been noted. Such disruption of the natural order cannot continue without consequences to all involved parties, including those who employ these individuals.

Faith sank into a chair, the paper crumpling in her grip. All her precautions, all her careful planning, and still they'd been discovered.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Henderson asked, noting her distress.

Faith wordlessly handed over the note. The widow's face paled as she read it.

"Perhaps," she said carefully, "it would be wise to suspend the lessons, at least temporarily."

Faith thought of her students' faces today—their excitement as they discovered how simple machines could make their work easier, their pride in understanding scientific principles that had always seemed beyond their reach.

"I can't," she whispered. "They're learning so much, growing so confident. To stop now..."

Mrs. Henderson laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Then we must find a way to protect them better. Perhaps..." she hesitated. "Perhaps that clever young lord of yours might have some ideas about that?"

Faith's mind went to Jasper's workshop, to the innovative ways he approached problems. He'd already adapted his mining technology into teaching tools—might he also have insights about security?

But asking for his help would mean risking his reputation as well. The investor demonstration was coming up, and he needed to focus on that. Could she really ask him to divide his attention further?

The threatening note seemed to burn in her hands. She had to make a decision: retreat to safer, less noticeable lessons, or find a way to continue pushing boundaries while better protecting her students.

As she made her way home through Oxford's twilit streets, Faith's mind worked furiously. There had to be a way to continue the lessons safely. Perhaps, like the simple machines she'd demonstrated today, it was just a matter of finding the right leverage point—the precise application of force that could overcome even the greatest resistance.

She just prayed she could find it before whoever wrote that note made good on their threat.

~~~~

"No, Lucy, look at the shape of the letter." Faith pointed to the page spread before them on the kitchen table. "See how it curves here? That's how you know it's a 'g' and not a 'y'."

The young housemaid bent closer to the book, her forehead furrowed in concentration. "Like in 'good'?"

"Exactly!" Faith beamed. "Now try the next word."

Lucy's finger moved slowly across the page. "M-mor-morning? Morning!"

"Perfect!" Faith squeezed the girl's shoulder.

These dawn reading lessons had become the highlight of her week, even if they had to conduct them in the kitchen while pretending to plan menus.

"Miss Faith?" Lucy's voice dropped to a whisper. "Is it true what Mary says? That you're helping Lord Jasper with his invention?"

Faith tensed. "Where did Mary hear that?"

"She was cleaning near the laboratory." Lucy's eyes were wide. "She said she saw you working with all sorts of complicated machinery."

Faith chose her words carefully. "Lord Jasper has been kind enough to explain some of his work to me."

"Like you explain reading to me?" Lucy smiled shyly. "Because learning shouldn't just be for certain people?"

"Lucy—" Faith started, but the sound of footsteps in the hall made them both freeze.

Quick as thought, Lucy grabbed the household accounts book and opened it over their primer. Faith picked up a pencil just as Mrs. Collins, the housekeeper, entered.

"Discussing the week's marketing, are we?" Mrs. Collins asked, her sharp eyes taking in the scene.

"Yes, Mrs. Collins," Faith said smoothly. "Lucy has such a good head for figures, I've been asking her to help me track the expenses."

The housekeeper's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Does she indeed?"

She looked at Lucy thoughtfully. "Well, girl, if you're to help with the accounts, you'll need to learn to write them properly. See that Miss Faith shows you how."

After Mrs. Collins left, Lucy stared at Faith with dawning comprehension. "Did she just...?"

"Give us permission to continue your lessons? In her own way, yes." Faith smiled. "You see, Lucy, change happens slowly, one person at a time. But it does happen."

"Like with you and Lord Jasper?" Lucy asked innocently. "Mary says he looks at you like you're the most fascinating thing he's ever seen, more than any of his machines."

Faith’s cheeks took flame.

"The next word," she said firmly, tapping the primer. "Let's see if you can sound it out."

But as Lucy bent over the book again, Faith couldn't help wondering if the housemaid's observation might hold more truth than she'd care to admit.

~~~~

Mrs. Henderson stood at her shop window, watching Oxford's evening crowds disperse. The last rays of sunlight caught on pewter buttons and silk ribbons in her display, but her mind was elsewhere, drawn back twenty years by the letter she held in trembling hands.

"You won't believe who's inquiring about millinery apprenticeships now," she said to Faith, who sat with Meredith, cataloguing their growing list of supporters. "Lady Ashworth's sister, Mrs. Hemsworth—the very woman who dismissed me from my position as governess."

Faith looked up sharply. "The one who—"

"Found me teaching her daughters calculus and natural philosophy? Yes." Mrs. Henderson's laugh held more wry amusement than bitterness now, though it hadn't always. "She likely doesn't even remember me. I was just another unsuitable governess, sent away for having ideas above my station."

"Tell me?" Faith set aside her lists, recognizing the rare moment when her usually practical ally might share something of her past.

Mrs. Henderson touched one of the elaborate hats on display—a confection of silk and careful engineering that could support impossible feathers at precisely calculated angles.

"I was young, passionate about education. Like you and Meredith in many ways, though without family connections to offer even minimal protection."

She moved to put the kettle on, her movements precise as she measured tea leaves.

"The position seemed perfect at first. Three bright young girls, a mother who claimed to value education. I thought..." She shook her head at her younger self's naiveté. "I thought if I could show them how mathematics governed everything from music to millinery, how science explained the world around them, they might understand why learning mattered."

"What happened?"

"Their elder brother returned from university. Found them discussing planetary orbits instead of practicing their embroidery." Her voice turned bitter. "He couldn't bear the thought of his sisters understanding concepts he struggled with. Convinced their mother I was filling their heads with dangerous ideas."

"And she believed him?"

"Of course. Much easier to dismiss one governess than question an entire system of education."

Mrs. Henderson poured their tea with steady hands. "I was lucky, really. My aunt had just died and left me enough to buy this shop. Many others in my position weren't so fortunate."

Faith touched her arm gently. "Is that why you agreed to help us? To finish what you started with those girls?"

"Partly." Mrs. Henderson smiled slightly. "Though I must admit, there's a certain satisfaction in using the very skills that got me dismissed—calculations, mechanics, practical physics—to create hats that make their mothers and daughters the envy of Society."

She gestured to her workroom, where complex diagrams showed how to balance weight and tension in increasingly elaborate designs.

"Every hat is a lesson in applied mathematics and engineering. They just don't realize they're learning it."

"Speaking of learning..." Faith pulled out her notebook. "I've made progress with our network. The circulating library's new assistant is sympathetic to our cause. She's been helping direct curious young women toward certain scientific texts—nothing too obvious, just making sure they know which shelves might interest them."

Mrs. Henderson nodded approvingly. "And the printer's widow?"

"Mrs. Barnes? Even better than we hoped. She's willing to help produce educational materials, disguised as household management guides." Faith's eyes sparkled. "You'd be amazed how much geometry and physics one can hide in discussions of proper table settings and drapery arrangements."

"Clever girl." Mrs. Henderson studied their growing list of allies.

Shopkeepers, servants, tradesman's wives—women who moved invisibly through Oxford's social circles, observing everything. "Any word from your contact at the hospital?"

"Nurse Fletcher has already identified three potential students—young women with quick minds and steady hands who could benefit from proper scientific training." Faith made another note. "She says the doctors never question a nurse's ability to calculate medicine dosages or understand human anatomy when it serves their purposes."

"No, they wouldn't." Mrs. Henderson's voice held decades of observation. "Just as Society never questions a milliner's understanding of geometry and physics as long as it produces fashionable hats."

She straightened her shoulders. "Well then, shall we review the new 'household management' curriculum?"

The three women bent their heads together over Faith's carefully coded notes, plotting how to hide advanced mathematics in discussions of household accounts, basic chemistry in laundry techniques, physics in proper furniture arrangement. Years of working within Society's constraints had taught them how to hide revolution in respectability.

"It's different this time," Faith said softly, watching Mrs. Henderson revise a lesson plan. "What we're building here—it's not just one governess teaching three girls. It's becoming something larger."

"Yes." Mrs. Henderson thought of Faith's passionate vision, of all the women who'd passed through her shop seeking more than just fashionable hats. "Though we must be careful. Change comes slowly, through small victories and careful preparation."

"Like establishing a respectable millinery shop that just happens to teach young women how to calculate complex angles and force distributions?" Meredith's eyes twinkled.

"Precisely." Mrs. Henderson allowed herself a small smile. "After all, what could be more proper than a shopkeeper teaching practical skills to improve her customers' appearances? If those skills happen to improve their minds as well..."

She gave a nonchalant shrug.

Later that evening, after Faith and Meredith had gone, Mrs. Henderson stood again at her window. She watched a young maid hurry past, mathematics primer carefully hidden in her market basket. A shopkeeper's daughter paused to admire the window display, her eyes catching on the geometric patterns that had first taught her to understand angles and proportions.

Twenty years ago, she'd lost everything for daring to teach three girls that their minds were capable of more than Society allowed.

Now, she was helping build a network that could open doors of knowledge for hundreds. It wasn't the life she'd imagined as a young governess, but perhaps it was something better—a chance to change not just individual lives, but the very fabric of what was possible.

She turned back to her workroom, where tomorrow's students would learn to calculate complex ratios while pretending to study fashion. Sometimes, she reflected, the most effective revolutions wore entirely respectable disguises.

~~~~

Annie stood in Lady Fanbroke's study, trying to keep her voice steady as she explained the problem with the new heating system.

"You see, my lady, the pressure distribution is uneven. That's why some rooms are too hot while others stay cold." She pulled out a small diagram she'd drawn, similar to the ones used in Faith's lessons. "If we adjust these valves according to basic fluid dynamics principles..."

She trailed off, suddenly aware of how far she'd overstepped. A scullery maid shouldn't know about fluid dynamics, shouldn't dare instruct her employer about household systems. Any moment now, she'd be dismissed—

"Fascinating." Lady Fanbroke leaned closer to examine Annie's calculations. "You understand how all this works?"

"Yes, my lady. I've been studying at Mrs. Henderson's... household management classes." Annie held her breath, waiting for the condemnation.

Instead, Lady Fanbroke smiled.

"I've heard about those classes. Very practical approach to domestic science, I understand." She tapped Annie's diagram thoughtfully. "Tell me, could you teach our other staff to monitor these systems? Perhaps prevent expensive repairs in the future?"

Annie's eyes widened. "I... yes, my lady. If you'd permit it?"

"Permit it? My dear, I insist upon it." Lady Fanbroke's eyes twinkled. "Though we'll call it 'advanced household maintenance training' rather than physics lessons, shall we?"

That evening, Annie practically flew to Faith's classroom, bursting to share her news. She found several other students already there, including Mary from the college kitchens, who had her own triumph to report.

"The head cook actually asked me to explain the new temperature control system to him!" Mary exclaimed. "Said he'd never understood how it worked until I showed him using Miss Faith's principles of thermodynamics."

Annie smiled, remembering her own fear when she'd first started classes. Now here they were, not just learning but teaching others, their knowledge spreading through Oxford's households like ripples in a pond.

~~~~

Meredith looked up from her library desk to find a young woman hovering nervously nearby. "Can I help you find something?"

"I hope so." The girl glanced around before lowering her voice. "I'm Sarah—I work at the printer's shop? Mrs. Barnes said you might... that is, I've seen some of the books you've been helping publish. The ones about household management that have all those fascinating calculations in them."

Ah. Another potential student. Meredith had been wondering when Mrs. Barnes's coded messages in the practical guides they printed would attract notice.

"You're interested in household calculations?" she asked carefully.

"The mathematics of it, really." Sarah's words tumbled out in a rush. "I've been doing the shop's accounts, you see, and I noticed some of the formulas in those books could help with our inventory management and price calculations. But I don't quite understand all of it yet, and Mrs. Barnes mentioned there might be... classes?"

Meredith smiled, already adding Sarah's name to her mental list. "Why don't you come by Mrs. Henderson's shop tomorrow morning? I believe she's offering a special tutorial on 'practical business mathematics' that might interest you."

Later that week, Meredith watched Sarah join their growing circle of students. The printer's apprentice sat between Elizabeth, a bookbinder's daughter Meredith had noticed lingering over scientific texts in the library, and Jane, a seamstress whose clever mechanical improvements to sewing techniques had caught Faith's attention.

They were an eclectic group—servants and shopkeepers' daughters, maids and apprentices. Each had found their way to the school through different paths: Lucy's careful notes left in strategic places, Annie's growing reputation for understanding household machinery, Mrs. Barnes's coded messages in practical guides, Meredith's library connections.

"The next generation of teachers," Faith murmured, coming to stand beside Meredith as they watched the students work. "Each one will reach others we might never have found."

Meredith nodded, thinking of all the young women like herself who haunted Oxford's libraries and shops, hungry for knowledge they weren't supposed to want. "It's like you always say—knowledge, once gained, cannot be untaught. It can only spread."

They watched as Lucy helped Sarah understand a particularly complex calculation, while Annie demonstrated a mechanical principle to Elizabeth using one of Jasper's teaching models. The quiet revolution they'd started was taking on a life of its own, passed from student to student, each one teaching others in turn.

"Look," Faith whispered, pointing to where Mary was explaining basic chemistry to Jane using examples from cooking and fabric dying. "They're not just learning the principles we teach them—they're finding new ways to apply them, new connections we never thought of."

Meredith smiled, remembering her own early days of clandestine study with Faith. "That's how it should be. Each generation building on what came before, finding their own paths to understanding."

The afternoon light slanted through Mrs. Henderson's windows, illuminating the scene: women teaching women, knowledge flowing freely between them, each one lifting others up as they climbed. This, Meredith thought, was what real change looked like—not dramatic gestures, but quiet moments of shared understanding, multiplying day by day until the world could not help but transform.