Page 6 of An Inventor and An Inconvenience (Gentleman Scholars #5)

J asper hesitated as he hovered over his device, unpacking his tools. Professor Somerton had given him permission to set up a makeshift laboratory in a spare room in his house. It conveniently had access from the grounds as well as the Professor’s house. He would be able to come and go as he pleased. He would likely spend most of his time there, whenever he wasn’t pouring over research texts or conferring with other scholars. The servants had been so kind as to set up a cot in the corner.

The morning light streaming through the workshop windows caught dust motes in its beams, creating an almost magical atmosphere. Jasper rolled his eyes. His lack of sleep was turning him fanciful.

Suddenly, he sensed a presence by the other door and looked up sharply. Faith Somerton stood in the doorway. Had the professor’s daughter been watching him work? Embarrassment threatened but he ignored the ridiculous sensation.

Jasper smiled in welcome and gestured her further into the room. She had asked some good questions, perhaps she could see what he was missing. Nothing else worked, why not the preposterous?

The professor hadn’t been very enthusiastic about his invention, much to Jasper’s disappointment. He couldn’t imagine why the man had invited him to visit if he wasn’t interested. But Jasper hoped that once his device was all set up and on display, the man might change his mind.

Or perhaps just being at the university would sufficiently inspire Jasper to figure out his problem.

He wasn’t sure what to do about the professor’s daughter. Her intelligent interest in his device was both irritating and inconvenient.

The professor hadn’t appreciated his daughter’s curiosity about the intricate machine, but he hadn’t forbidden her from associating with Jasper either. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the matter—her intelligence was inspiring, but her questions were embarrassing at times since he didn’t always have an answer.

She hovered over his shoulder as he set out each piece, explaining as he went. “This one goes here and does that, and this one goes here and does this. And if we put it all together, I expect it to be able to bore into the rock in my father’s mine.”

“Really?” she gasped. “Is it not too small?”

She then blushed as though realizing it wasn’t a sound question.

“Well, this prototype is, for certain,” Jasper said with a laugh. “But it’s remarkably tough for its size. It’s all in the physics, don’t you know?”

He wished he could bite back his words, considering the expression on her face. Of course she didn’t know—she was a woman; she didn’t study physics.

“Leverage is involved,” he explained more gently, watching as her face cleared of irritation and she nodded her understanding.

“So what exactly is your problem?” she asked. “I know you explained it yesterday, but I wasn’t perfectly clear on this. You’ve had it working, haven’t you?”

“I have. It just doesn’t want to stay working,” he explained.

“Doesn’t stay working?” she asked with an adorable wrinkle in her nose that Jasper studiously ignored. “Does it break or quit?”

“It quits.”

“So it’s your propulsion, not your device,” she said slowly, much to his shock. “Whether you have tried steel or not, isn’t necessarily an issue.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

She proceeded to ask him more questions, and Jasper slowly answered. Some were for her information, and others were for his own benefit, really, considering that they helped him think differently about his work and realize certain improvements he could make.

“How do you know all of this?” he asked her with a frown.

Her hot flush made her look extremely uncomfortable, and he knew he shouldn’t have asked her quite so baldly, but he couldn't help himself.

“I meant you no disrespect, Miss Somerton,” he said sheepishly. “It’s just that even your father didn’t ask such effective questions.”

The young lady’s laugh was a tinkle of joy that warmed Jasper all the way down to his toes.

“I live in Oxford,” she said simply. “While I’m not supposed to be receiving an education, I am able to access the most in-depth learning that exists—if I know exactly where to stand, what to read, and who to listen to. It’s a shame they don’t allow me to actually learn and be useful, but I’m still able to learn however much I can figure out between listening in door cracks and reading whatever I can get my hands on.”

Jasper laughed along with her, not at all offended at the thought of the young woman getting an education despite the accepted understanding that it was beyond her. Obviously, it wasn't, or she wouldn’t be here helping him figure out where he had gone wrong with his automation. Perhaps having her involvement wouldn’t be so very inconvenient after all.

“What is your favourite field of study?” he thought to ask her.

“All of them,” she replied with another laugh.

“I would love to study chemistry, but I haven’t been able to figure out any way to secretly perform the reactions and experiments that are needed. I’ve only been able to read about the theory, but it does fascinate me. I also love mathematics and history. History is the easiest,” she said. “All you have to do is read and think.”

She paused briefly before asking. “What about you? I suppose engineering was your field of study?”

Jasper nodded.

“Do you have a sponsor?” she asked him.

“I am a member of Roderick Northcott's Scholarly Society,” he said slowly. “Have you heard of it?”

“Oh, yes,” Faith replied immediately. “I’m friends with Lady Beaverbrook.”

“Oh, I see,” Jasper said. “You’re the young woman Adriana has been writing to, aren’t you?”

He was surprised when she did a little dance and clapped her hands. “I was wondering if you knew! Are you involved in the treasure hunt, or are you leaving that to your friends?”

Jasper laughed. “I’m one of the fuddy-duddies who doesn’t believe there really is a treasure to pursue.”

“Oh, I see,” Faith said. “So then you’re not feeling too inclined to help me with the latest clue, I suppose?”

Jasper frowned. “Have you found something?” he asked, torn between excitement at the idea and his own intense need to solve the problem with his invention. Was it possible he could do both? He wondered.

Faith shrugged. “Adriana wrote last week, and I think I’ve found something. It’s connected to a poem the other lady, Greta, found. Adriana thought it sounded like a quote Lord Beaverbrook was familiar with, so she asked me to look in a textbook here at the school, and I found some notes actually in my father’s library. So I wanted to dig further.”

“And you’re not sure if the doors will be closed against you, right?” Jasper asked with sympathy and dismay.

“That’s right,” she said.

He was impressed by the laughter she was able to muster, obviously used to the matter and not devastated by it.

“Why do you stay here?” he asked her. “If you love education so much and yet it’s being denied to you.”

She frowned at him. It was obviously a rude question, but he didn’t take it back.

“Where else am I supposed to go?” she asked.

“Have you no relatives?” he replied.

“None that seem inclined to take me on,” she answered with a shrug, clearly trying to indicate it didn’t matter to her. “Besides, I love the old books,” she added. “I’m not sure what I would do somewhere else.”

Jasper's chest tightened at her words. He found himself leaning forward, struck by the quiet dignity with which she spoke of her limited options, the way her attempted nonchalance couldn't quite mask the yearning in her voice. The familiar weight of his own father's disapproval seemed to press less heavily as he recognized in Faith a kindred spirit — someone else who understood what it meant to love learning while being denied its full measure.

~~~~

Faith's footsteps echoed softly against the worn stone floor as she made her way through the darkened library, candlestick held aloft. The familiar scent of leather bindings and aged paper usually brought her comfort, but tonight the shadows seemed to dance ominously between the towering shelves.

She nearly dropped her candle when a floorboard creaked behind her.

"Miss Somerton?"

Faith whirled around to find Lord Jasper emerging from between two shelves, his own candle casting a warm glow across his features. His cravat was loosened, hair slightly dishevelled – evidently he'd been at his work for hours.

"Lord Jasper! I... I didn't expect anyone else to be here at this hour." Faith fought the urge to smooth her skirts, suddenly aware of how improper this encounter was.

"Nor did I," he said, a slight smile playing at his lips. "Though I suppose we're both guilty of burning the midnight oil."

Faith noticed several mechanical drawings tucked under his arm. "Still struggling with the propulsion system?"

"Always." He ran a hand through his already mussed hair. "Though I suspect you're not here at this hour to discuss my invention's failings."

"No," Faith admitted, then hesitated. Something about the intimate darkness made her want to confide in him. "I found another reference to the treasure. I couldn't wait until morning to investigate."

Jasper stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Show me?"

Faith led him to a reading alcove where she'd already assembled several texts. As she explained her latest theory, she was acutely aware of his presence beside her, the way he leaned in to examine the passages she indicated. His sleeve brushed against hers as he reached to turn a page.

"Brilliant," he murmured, "The way you've connected these references..." He looked up at her, their faces unexpectedly close in the candlelight. "You would have made an exceptional scholar, Miss Somerton."

"Would have?" She met his gaze. "I rather think I already am one, regardless of what the university might say."

A moment of silence stretched between them, charged with something more than their usual scholarly discourse. Then Jasper cleared his throat and shifted slightly away.

"Indeed you are." His voice was rougher than usual. "Though I fear we're both courting scandal, being here at this hour."

"Sometimes scandal is worth risking," Faith said softly, "for the right cause."

Jasper's eyes darkened. "And what cause would that be, Miss Somerton? The treasure hunt, or..." He trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the candlelit darkness.

Before Faith could respond, a distant sound – perhaps a night watchman's footsteps – broke the spell. They quickly gathered their materials, sharing one last speaking glance of co-conspirators before slipping away in opposite directions.

Faith's heart continued to race long after she'd returned to her chamber, and she wasn't entirely sure it was from the fear of being caught.

~~~~

Faith poured another cup of tea as she and Meredith sat comfortably in the professor's parlor. The remains of Lucy's roast chicken dinner had been cleared away, and they'd moved to the more comfortable seating by the fire. The house felt different without her father's presence—lighter somehow, the air less laden with unspoken restrictions.

"So this device of his," Meredith said, leaning forward with interest, "it's meant to improve mining safety? How exactly does it work?"

Faith sketched quickly on a piece of paper. "From what I could gather, it uses a distributed pressure system—see, here—instead of concentrating force at a single point. The mechanism grinds through rock more efficiently while reducing the strain on individual components."

"And the miners themselves," Meredith observed, studying the drawing.

"Precisely." Faith nodded, pleased by her friend's quick understanding. "But what fascinated me most was how the same principles could be applied to so many other contexts. The way force distributes through a system, whether mechanical or—"

"Educational?" Meredith supplied with a knowing smile.

Faith laughed. "Am I that transparent?"

"Only to those who've known you since childhood." Meredith took the drawing, examining it more closely. "You see mechanical innovation, and immediately think of how to apply it to our school plans."

"Speaking of which," Faith said, pulling a small notebook from beside her chair, "I've been refining our curriculum ideas. I've been thinking we should focus first on adult women—especially those in service positions or trade families. They could implement the knowledge immediately, and perhaps even teach others."

Meredith's brow furrowed. "I'm not certain that's the wisest approach. Children's minds are more receptive to new ideas. If we start with girls between eight and twelve, we could build a foundation that would serve them throughout their lives."

"But adult women need this knowledge now," Faith countered. "A housemaid who understands basic chemistry can better perform her duties. A shopkeeper's wife who masters arithmetic can prevent being cheated."

"Yes, but children represent the future," Meredith leaned forward, her usual quiet demeanor giving way to passion. "Imagine girls growing up never knowing the limitations we've faced, never having to unlearn society's restrictions. Besides, parents might accept education for their daughters more readily than seeing their servants 'above their station.'"

Faith sighed, tapping her pencil against the notebook. "You make valid points, as always. But why must we choose? Perhaps we could begin with a small group of adult women, then gradually introduce children's classes."

Meredith's expression softened. "The eternal optimist. Always believing we can have everything."

"Not everything," Faith corrected. "Just that which is rightfully ours—knowledge and the freedom to pursue it."

She gazed into the fire for a moment. "You should have seen the look on Lord Jasper's face when I asked about steel components for his device. Complete shock that a woman would understand such things."

"And yet he listened to you," Meredith pointed out. "Perhaps he's more progressive than you initially thought."

"Perhaps." Faith closed her notebook. "Or perhaps he was simply too startled to dismiss me outright. I suppose I'll discover which is true as time progresses."

"Either way," Meredith said, reaching for her friend's hand, "our plans continue. With or without noble assistance."

Faith squeezed Meredith's fingers, grateful as always for this friendship that had sustained her through years of intellectual isolation. "Together, as always."

"Though I still think we should start with the children," Meredith added with a mischievous smile.

Faith laughed. "We'll continue that debate tomorrow. For now, tell me what new treasures you've catalogued this week."

As the evening shadows lengthened, the two women continued their conversation, their shared dreams of education temporarily set aside for the simple pleasure of intellectual companionship—a treasure both had learned to value above all else.