Page 18 of An Inventor and An Inconvenience (Gentleman Scholars #5)

T he afternoon sun cast long shadows across the courtyard of St. Mary's Chapel as Faith and Jasper carefully examined the ancient stonework. They had spent the morning securing Mrs. Henderson's shop, but Faith had insisted they use the remaining daylight to investigate the first location on their treasure map.

"The verse mentioned 'ancient waters mirror all,'" Faith said, kneeling to inspect the weathered rim of the reflecting pool. "This is the oldest water feature still existing at Oxford."

Jasper ran his hand along the stone edge, his fingers searching for irregularities. "The craftsmanship is remarkable for its age." He paused, his expression sharpening. "Faith, look at this."

She moved to his side, their shoulders touching as they both bent to examine the spot he indicated. There, nearly invisible unless one knew to look for it, was a small carving—a rose with five petals, its centre slightly deeper than it should be.

"It matches the description in your mother's journal," Jasper said quietly.

Faith's heart quickened. She reached into her pocket for the brass stylus she'd brought specifically for this purpose. With practiced care, she inserted it into the centre of the carved rose.

A soft click rewarded her efforts.

"A mechanism," Jasper breathed, his engineer's mind immediately grasping the implications. "After all these centuries, it still functions."

Glancing around to ensure they remained unobserved, Faith carefully slid aside the small section of stone that had loosened. The cavity revealed was shallow, but not empty. A small leather pouch rested within.

With trembling fingers, Faith withdrew it. Inside was not treasure as they might have hoped, but a folded parchment, its edges crumbling with age.

"Another clue," she whispered, carefully unfolding it.

The faded ink revealed not words but a drawing—a floor plan of what appeared to be part of the old library wing, with a particular section marked by a cross.

"It's a map," Jasper said, studying it over her shoulder. "Showing exactly where to look next."

Faith carefully compared it to their own map of Oxford. "This section doesn't match the current layout." She traced the differences with her finger. "The renovation in 1587 must have altered it significantly."

"But the foundation stones would remain the same," Jasper pointed out. "If we can find the original corner points, we can calculate where this marked spot would be in the current building."

Faith carefully refolded the parchment, her mind racing with possibilities. "We're on the right path, Jasper. These aren't just random clues—this is a deliberately laid trail."

"Leading to what, though?" he mused. "And who would have gone to such elaborate lengths to create it?"

"Someone who believed the knowledge they were hiding would someday need to be found again," Faith replied softly. "Someone who trusted future scholars to follow the intellectual breadcrumbs they left behind."

As they walked back toward the university buildings, Faith couldn't help but feel a kinship with those long-ago academics who had valued knowledge enough to preserve it against all odds.

"We'll need to measure the old foundations," Jasper said, already planning their next steps. "I have tools in my workshop that could help us calculate the exact position."

Faith nodded, grateful once again for his practical approach to their increasingly complex treasure hunt. "And I'll see if my father's archives contain any pre-renovation drawings of that wing."

Their shared sense of purpose warmed her more than the afternoon sun. Whatever they might ultimately find, the search itself was becoming a treasure of its own kind.

~~~~

Jasper sat at his workbench, surrounded by the familiar chaos of his workshop, but his attention wasn't on the mining device for once. Instead, he found himself sketching a new design—a simplified version of his grinding mechanism that could clearly demonstrate the principles of rotational force.

He'd overheard Faith explaining basic physics to Lucy yesterday, using an old broom handle to show how leverage worked. The memory of her enthusiasm, the way she'd made complex concepts accessible, had stayed with him.

"What would Father say," he muttered, adding detail to his sketch, "if he knew I was spending my time on teaching tools rather than mining innovations?"

And yet, as he reviewed his latest performance data, he couldn't help but notice how his work had improved since he'd started considering these broader applications. Explaining the mechanisms to Faith and adapting them for her students had forced him to understand them more deeply himself.

The main device sat partially disassembled on his workbench, its brass and steel components gleaming in the morning light. Beside it lay his notebook, filled with calculations and observations. The numbers were promising—better than he'd initially hoped. The distributed pressure system that Faith had inspired was proving remarkably effective.

He reached for a gear assembly, turning it over in his hands. The same principles that made it efficient at grinding ore could, with some modifications, demonstrate basic mechanical advantages to students who'd never had access to scientific education.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor made him hastily set aside his educational sketches. But instead of Lucy with another message from his father, it was Professor Somerton who appeared in the doorway.

"Hard at work, I see," the professor said, eyeing the various components spread across the workbench. His gaze lingered on the partially hidden sketches of teaching tools. "Though perhaps not entirely on mining applications?"

Jasper felt heat rise in his face. "Sir, I—"

"No need to explain." Professor Somerton picked up one of the simplified models. "You know, when I first began teaching, I discovered something curious. The process of making complex ideas accessible to others often led to deeper insights into the principles themselves."

He set the model down carefully. "I've noticed my daughter seems quite interested in your mechanical demonstrations."

Jasper's heart jumped at the mention of Faith. "She has a remarkable gift for seeing applications I hadn't considered," he admitted.

"Indeed." The professor's expression was unreadable. "And these adaptations you're working on—they're purely theoretical, I assume?"

The question carried weight beyond its surface meaning. Jasper chose his words carefully. "I believe that understanding mechanical principles could benefit anyone, regardless of their... circumstances."

Professor Somerton nodded slowly. "A rather progressive view for a nobleman's son." He paused. "Your father might not approve."

"As the third son, I must make my own way regardless," Jasper said with a wry smile. "At least this way, my work might serve multiple purposes. If I cannot inherit, perhaps I can still contribute something of value."

He picked up his latest educational model—a system of interconnected gears that demonstrated how force could be redirected and amplified. It was elegant in its simplicity, though it had taken several attempts to achieve that simplicity.

"You know," Professor Somerton said thoughtfully, "I've often found that the most valuable discoveries come from pursuing questions beyond our original scope. Sometimes what we think is a distraction turns out to be the key to everything."

With that cryptic comment, he bade Jasper good day and departed, leaving Jasper to contemplate his words.

Turning back to his workbench, Jasper spread out his notes and sketches. The investor demonstration was approaching rapidly, and he needed to focus on perfecting the mining device. But as he reviewed his recent modifications, he realized that many of the improvements had come from thinking about the mechanism in new ways.

His father wanted practical results—something that would benefit the family's mining operations. But what if the true practical value of his work lay in its versatility? The ability to adapt complex mechanisms for different purposes, to make sophisticated principles accessible to those who'd never had the opportunity to learn them...

Jasper reached for a fresh sheet of paper and began to sketch again, this time combining elements from both his mining device and his teaching tools. Perhaps he didn't have to choose between his father's expectations and these new possibilities. Perhaps, like the gears in his latest model, different purposes could work together, each making the other more effective.

A soft knock drew his attention to the door, where Faith stood with an oddly troubled expression.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," she said, "but I wondered if you had a moment to discuss something rather important?"

Jasper looked at his workbench—at the mining device waiting to be reassembled, at the educational models he'd been developing in secret, at all the evidence of his divided attention.

"Actually," he said, gathering his newest sketches, "there's something I'd like to show you as well."

He might not be able to solve all the tensions in his life, but at least he could share this one achievement with someone who would understand both its practical value and its potential for something more.