Page 22 of An Inventor and An Inconvenience (Gentleman Scholars #5)

F aith's fingers trembled as she smoothed out the rough draft of her response letter for the tenth time. The words still didn't feel right:

Your threats do not frighten those who seek only to improve themselves through knowledge...

She crumpled the paper with a frustrated sigh. How could she explain the importance of education to someone who saw it as a threat to proper social order?

The sound of footsteps in the college gardens made her look up. Jasper approached through the early evening shadows, his expression concerned. She'd asked him to meet her here, in this secluded corner behind the old library where ancient oak trees provided both shade and privacy.

"Faith?" He stopped a proper distance away, though his eyes searched her face. "Your message seemed urgent."

"It is." She gestured to the stone bench beside her. "Please, sit. I..." She swallowed hard. "I need your help."

He settled beside her, close enough that she could catch the familiar scent of machine oil and leather that always clung to him, but not so close as to be improper. "What's wrong?"

Instead of answering immediately, Faith withdrew the threatening letters from her reticule. Her hands shook slightly as she passed them to him. "These arrived at Mrs. Henderson's shop."

Jasper's expression darkened as he read them. "How long has this been happening?"

"The first came last week. The second arrived yesterday." Faith twisted her hands in her lap. "I've been trying to draft a response, but..."

"No." Jasper's voice was sharp. "Don't respond. It would only confirm their suspicions and give them something to use against you." He studied the letters more carefully. "The handwriting is deliberately disguised, but the paper quality suggests someone of means. Perhaps someone connected to the university?"

Faith nodded miserably. "That's what I feared. If they inform the authorities..."

"Your father's position could be compromised," Jasper finished. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she'd come to recognize as indicating deep thought. "Have you told him about the threats?"

"How can I? He's only recently begun to accept my intellectual pursuits. If he knew I was actually teaching others..."

She broke off, fighting back tears.

"I can't risk his career, but I can't abandon my students either. You should see them, Jasper. They're learning so much, growing so confident. Yesterday, Annie used your gear demonstration to explain to her employer why the kitchen winch needed repair. She not only kept her position but earned extra wages for saving them the cost of a mechanic."

Jasper's expression softened. "Your work is making a real difference."

"But at what cost?" Faith stood, pacing in the small space between the bench and the library wall. "I've been trying to find a way to make the lessons appear more conventional, to disguise them as training for domestic service. But with more students coming..." She stopped, turning to face him. "I don't know what to do."

Jasper was quiet for a long moment, studying the letters. "These threats suggest they don't have proof yet. Just suspicions." He looked up at her. "What if we could make it harder for them to gather evidence? Some sort of... early warning system?"

Faith's heart leaped. "Like your mining safety mechanisms?"

"Similar principles, yes." He pulled out his notebook, sketching rapidly. "We could adapt some of my designs... perhaps something that would alert you to approaching visitors before they could observe anything improper."

"You would do that?" Faith hadn't meant to sound so surprised, but the idea that he would use his precious invention—the key to his father's approval—to help her cause...

Jasper met her eyes. "Of course I would. What you're doing matters, Faith. These girls deserve a chance to learn, to understand the world around them." His voice softened. "And you deserve to teach them without living in fear."

Something in his tone made Faith's breath catch. She sank back onto the bench beside him, closer than before. "But your investors... your father... I know how important their approval is to you."

"It is," he admitted. "But perhaps not as important as I once thought." He showed her his sketch—a clever system of bells and wires that could be disguised as ordinary household implements. "Besides, as Lord Ashworth pointed out, having multiple applications for my work might actually make it more valuable, not less."

Faith studied the design, her mind already seeing how it could be implemented at Mrs. Henderson's shop. "This could work," she breathed. "Though we'll have to be careful about installation..."

"We?" Jasper's voice held a note she hadn't heard before.

Faith felt heat rise in her cheeks. "I mean... if you're willing to help..."

"I am." He turned slightly to face her, his expression serious. "Faith, what you're doing—it's not just about education. It's about seeing possibilities that others ignore, about finding ways to make the world better despite opposition. I want to help, not just with protection, but with teaching tools, with demonstrations, with whatever you need."

Tears pricked at Faith's eyes. She hadn't realized until this moment how lonely it had been, carrying this burden alone. "Thank you," she whispered.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, shoulders nearly touching as they bent over his notebook, adding details to the design. The threat of discovery still loomed, but somehow it felt less overwhelming with Jasper beside her, his clever mind already working on solutions.

As the evening bell tolled in the distance, Faith reluctantly gathered her things. But before she could rise, Jasper caught her hand.

"We'll find a way to protect them," he promised softly. "Your students, your father's position, all of it. Trust me?"

Faith looked at their joined hands, then up at his earnest face. "I do," she realized. "I trust you completely."

The weight of that admission hung in the air between them as they parted ways in the gathering dusk. Faith clutched his sketches close as she hurried home, her mind full of plans and possibilities—and the memory of his hand holding hers, steady and sure in the face of uncertainty.