Chapter Five

S arah walked into the library and froze when she encountered the fog bank of tension that blanketed the room. Heloise waved her forward, happy to busy herself distributing saucers and teaspoons of sugar. As soon as her cup was full, Heloise wrapped her hands around it and held it in front of her face like a shield.

Sarah leaned over to pour for the tutor. "You still here?" she asked him.

"Why wouldn't I be, Sarah?"

"No reason." Sarah set a plate of rout cakes discreetly by the tutor's elbow, gave Heloise an encouraging look and quickly absented herself.

As Heloise drank, the soothing heat spread through her belly. She put her nose over the teacup and breathed in the moist steam. The woodsy, malty aroma calmed her, allowing her to regain her composure. After a moment, she looked up to find her tutor finishing a rout cake. He drained the last dregs from his cup and dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

"My rebuttal." He held out a hand. "Give me that list."

She passed it to him, and he looked it over, chin propped casually on his fist. As she watched him, a frisson of excitement raced through her. He was reading her words, and truly considering her request. She shifted restlessly in her chair, wiggling her toes in her slippers.

"First, and foremost, if your uncle caught us engaging in any of these activities, your reputation would be ruined, and I suspect I might be shot."

"Pfft." Heloise waved him off. "All my uncle cares about is money. So long as we do not threaten his business dealings, he will not care a fig. Besides," she added, "that is a judgement of the consequences, not the merit of the proposal itself."

He glanced up, a sort of pleasurable surprise on his face. His eyes lingered on her before returning to the paper in his hand.

"Next," he said, "I am in a position of authority. A liaison with a student is a gross abuse of power."

"Power?" She raised one incredulous brow. "You are my employee. I might dismiss you at any time." His lips curved in amusement. Undaunted, she continued. "Concerning your authority, I am confident the only subject in which your expertise surpasses mine is the one currently under discussion."

"I suppose I should spare you the lecture on tarnished virtue." When she twisted her mouth into a disgusted grimace, he laughed. "I fear my heart is not in this defense. In truth, I agree with you."

"You do?"

"Of course. What sort of hypocrite would I be if I discouraged you from seeking knowledge? My life has been dedicated to the same pursuit."

"Oh." She had been so ready to go to battle, to mount a fierce offensive for her desires. She had not anticipated understanding.

Her tutor studied the page for another moment, then seemed to come to a decision. He flipped the list around, so that she could see her own fussy handwriting. "I will perform these experiments with you, under two conditions. First, that either may call a stop at any time. You underestimate the effect of these acts."

"Perhaps you overestimate your potency," she muttered. When he scowled at her, she added, "We are both scholars. Surely, we can keep our wits about us."

"We shall see," he said. "Second, I wonder if I might have use of the books in the library. To study at my leisure or take to my bedchamber if I wish."

She blinked. "Of course. They are meant to be read." It had been years since anyone but her had touched them. The thought of him moving through the shelves, his handsome profile turned up to read the titles along their spines and his elegant fingers running over the pages, pleased her.

"Then we are agreed." He folded her list and tucked it into the pocket of his coat. Then he extended his hand, palm up, in invitation. "Shall we begin?"