The Duchess War
Page 44
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“You really aren’t well.”
“It’s nothing.” She spoke more sharply this time, and the gentleman up front had stood and looked on the verge of introducing Sebastian. Robert had little choice but to leave her. By the time he found his seat, the man was running through Sebastian’s history.
“…After a distinguished beginning at Cambridge,” the man said, “Mr. Sebastian Malheur made a name for himself by…”
Distinguished beginning? Ha. He’d scarcely made it through the first part of his Tripos examinations. He’d always been on the verge of being sent down, pulling prank after college-boy prank. Nobody had been more shocked by Sebastian’s sudden success than the old men who’d once administered his exams.
In some ways, Sebastian’s subsequent success—the nature of it, as well as the manner—was Sebastian’s biggest prank of all. And he knew it. He came to the podium in front with a bit of a swagger and a smirk.
“Thank you, thank you all,” he said, “for your very kind welcome.” The quirk of his mouth was the only thing that acknowledged that half his welcomers had come to call him names. “I stand here to tell you about the science of inherited traits—the subject of years of study on my part. Over the course of my studies, I have come to several conclusions. One, that traits—like eye color, height, the number of petals on a flower, or the shape of a radish—are inherited from progenitors according to strict, inviolable rules. Second, that the rules of inheritance appear to be constant from animal to plant, from vegetable to tree, from cats and sheep to goats and, of course, the human animal.”
Oh, he was enjoying himself. There was a gleam in his eye as he spoke, a faint smile that spread at the indrawn gasps scattered around the hall.
“Third, I shall explain how the rules of inheritance walk hand in hand with Mr. Darwin’s discoveries on the origin of species. I know that many of you are particularly waiting for this portion, and so I shall explain the connection and the means by which I came to my conclusions, using—”
“Using the tools of the devil!” someone shouted in the back.
Sebastian paused only briefly. “Using facts, logic, and reproducible experiments,” he said gently. “All those may seem dull to many of you. But my colleagues usually raise objection to proof by diabolical influence.” There was another flicker of a smile and then he swept his arms wide, striding to an easel he’d set up at the front.
“I start with the color of the snapdragon.”
He set his hand on the fabric covering the easel. At that moment, though, the back door of the hall flew open. Heads turned. For a moment, there was only darkness.
Then: “Get on!” someone shouted, and the goats that had once been in the square ambled into the hall. They looked about, mildly puzzled.
“As you think there’s no distinction between humans and animals,” someone yelled, “here’s some for your audience!”
Titters arose.
Sheep, Robert thought aimlessly, would have been a better choice. Sheep were skittish things that bolted away at the flutter of a cloak. They would have panicked in an instant. Goats, on the other hand… Goats saw a gathering of this many people as an opportunity. They walked down the aisle, heads bobbing.
“I welcome all creatures intelligent enough to understand,” Sebastian said grandly. “Never fear, my good man. I’m sure that after I’m finished, your animals will be able to explain the principles to you using very small words, the sort that even you might comprehend.”
Another wave of laughter arose at that.
The head goat took another lazy step forward. Then it stopped. It turned its head in contemplation…and reached out to take a bite from the flowers at Minnie’s hem.
Robert came half out of his seat, reaching back, even though she was yards away. She shoved at its head. He could see her lips move, see her slap it on the shoulder, but he couldn’t hear what she said.
“Here now,” the driver shouted behind her. “Don’t touch that animal! You heard the man—she’s one of us. I’ll have you up for assault if you lay hands on her again.” He gave another belly laugh.
Another one of the goats came up to her, stealthily reaching out its neck. Miss Pursling took a parasol from a nearby woman and whacked it.
“Assault! Assault and battery!”
Waves of laughter grew. Another whack with the parasol; yet another goat joined the fray. This one reached in and chomped at her hem. The blue fabric ripped, showing a hint of creamy petticoat.
And that was when Robert realized what was wrong. Nobody had moved to help her. They all surrounded her, watching, laughing. He found himself standing up, running down the aisle toward her.
“Animal or human?” the goat owner was shouting. “Ah, you see—we can tell the difference after all!”
The people around her were laughing at that fool—holding back, while Miss Pursling beat off the assault on her own. Robert shoved through the crowd, making his way up to the man.
“You think that’s assault?” he growled.
The man didn’t look behind him to see who was speaking. “What?”
Robert set his hand on one shoulder and forcibly turned the fellow around. “This,” he said. “This is what a bloody assault looks like.” So saying, he punched the man square in the jaw. The fellow’s eyes widened in surprise. He seemed to teeter in place for a bare moment. Then his eyes rolled up and he toppled over.
Robert turned away. “For shame,” he snapped to the gathered crowd. “Shame on all of you. Get those goats off that woman. Now.”
Minnie looked up at that. She’d been so busy fending off the goats that she hadn’t noticed the crowd closing in on her. But instead of looking relieved at the men who advanced on the goats, her head whipped from side to side. She went absolutely white. Robert saw her eyes roll up in her head.
If anyone had asked him before this night, he would have wagered good money that she had nerves of steel. He started through the crowd, but he was too late.
She fainted in a crumpled heap before he could reach her.
Chapter Fifteen
THE WORLD WAS MADE OF VINEGAR, and Minnie’s sinuses were on fire. She coughed and became aware that she rested on an uncomfortable surface—hard and lumpy and warm, all at the same time.
She opened her eyes.
Lydia was staring at her, waving a vial of sal volatile underneath her nose. Minnie coughed heavily and batted the smelling salts away.
“It’s nothing.” She spoke more sharply this time, and the gentleman up front had stood and looked on the verge of introducing Sebastian. Robert had little choice but to leave her. By the time he found his seat, the man was running through Sebastian’s history.
“…After a distinguished beginning at Cambridge,” the man said, “Mr. Sebastian Malheur made a name for himself by…”
Distinguished beginning? Ha. He’d scarcely made it through the first part of his Tripos examinations. He’d always been on the verge of being sent down, pulling prank after college-boy prank. Nobody had been more shocked by Sebastian’s sudden success than the old men who’d once administered his exams.
In some ways, Sebastian’s subsequent success—the nature of it, as well as the manner—was Sebastian’s biggest prank of all. And he knew it. He came to the podium in front with a bit of a swagger and a smirk.
“Thank you, thank you all,” he said, “for your very kind welcome.” The quirk of his mouth was the only thing that acknowledged that half his welcomers had come to call him names. “I stand here to tell you about the science of inherited traits—the subject of years of study on my part. Over the course of my studies, I have come to several conclusions. One, that traits—like eye color, height, the number of petals on a flower, or the shape of a radish—are inherited from progenitors according to strict, inviolable rules. Second, that the rules of inheritance appear to be constant from animal to plant, from vegetable to tree, from cats and sheep to goats and, of course, the human animal.”
Oh, he was enjoying himself. There was a gleam in his eye as he spoke, a faint smile that spread at the indrawn gasps scattered around the hall.
“Third, I shall explain how the rules of inheritance walk hand in hand with Mr. Darwin’s discoveries on the origin of species. I know that many of you are particularly waiting for this portion, and so I shall explain the connection and the means by which I came to my conclusions, using—”
“Using the tools of the devil!” someone shouted in the back.
Sebastian paused only briefly. “Using facts, logic, and reproducible experiments,” he said gently. “All those may seem dull to many of you. But my colleagues usually raise objection to proof by diabolical influence.” There was another flicker of a smile and then he swept his arms wide, striding to an easel he’d set up at the front.
“I start with the color of the snapdragon.”
He set his hand on the fabric covering the easel. At that moment, though, the back door of the hall flew open. Heads turned. For a moment, there was only darkness.
Then: “Get on!” someone shouted, and the goats that had once been in the square ambled into the hall. They looked about, mildly puzzled.
“As you think there’s no distinction between humans and animals,” someone yelled, “here’s some for your audience!”
Titters arose.
Sheep, Robert thought aimlessly, would have been a better choice. Sheep were skittish things that bolted away at the flutter of a cloak. They would have panicked in an instant. Goats, on the other hand… Goats saw a gathering of this many people as an opportunity. They walked down the aisle, heads bobbing.
“I welcome all creatures intelligent enough to understand,” Sebastian said grandly. “Never fear, my good man. I’m sure that after I’m finished, your animals will be able to explain the principles to you using very small words, the sort that even you might comprehend.”
Another wave of laughter arose at that.
The head goat took another lazy step forward. Then it stopped. It turned its head in contemplation…and reached out to take a bite from the flowers at Minnie’s hem.
Robert came half out of his seat, reaching back, even though she was yards away. She shoved at its head. He could see her lips move, see her slap it on the shoulder, but he couldn’t hear what she said.
“Here now,” the driver shouted behind her. “Don’t touch that animal! You heard the man—she’s one of us. I’ll have you up for assault if you lay hands on her again.” He gave another belly laugh.
Another one of the goats came up to her, stealthily reaching out its neck. Miss Pursling took a parasol from a nearby woman and whacked it.
“Assault! Assault and battery!”
Waves of laughter grew. Another whack with the parasol; yet another goat joined the fray. This one reached in and chomped at her hem. The blue fabric ripped, showing a hint of creamy petticoat.
And that was when Robert realized what was wrong. Nobody had moved to help her. They all surrounded her, watching, laughing. He found himself standing up, running down the aisle toward her.
“Animal or human?” the goat owner was shouting. “Ah, you see—we can tell the difference after all!”
The people around her were laughing at that fool—holding back, while Miss Pursling beat off the assault on her own. Robert shoved through the crowd, making his way up to the man.
“You think that’s assault?” he growled.
The man didn’t look behind him to see who was speaking. “What?”
Robert set his hand on one shoulder and forcibly turned the fellow around. “This,” he said. “This is what a bloody assault looks like.” So saying, he punched the man square in the jaw. The fellow’s eyes widened in surprise. He seemed to teeter in place for a bare moment. Then his eyes rolled up and he toppled over.
Robert turned away. “For shame,” he snapped to the gathered crowd. “Shame on all of you. Get those goats off that woman. Now.”
Minnie looked up at that. She’d been so busy fending off the goats that she hadn’t noticed the crowd closing in on her. But instead of looking relieved at the men who advanced on the goats, her head whipped from side to side. She went absolutely white. Robert saw her eyes roll up in her head.
If anyone had asked him before this night, he would have wagered good money that she had nerves of steel. He started through the crowd, but he was too late.
She fainted in a crumpled heap before he could reach her.
Chapter Fifteen
THE WORLD WAS MADE OF VINEGAR, and Minnie’s sinuses were on fire. She coughed and became aware that she rested on an uncomfortable surface—hard and lumpy and warm, all at the same time.
She opened her eyes.
Lydia was staring at her, waving a vial of sal volatile underneath her nose. Minnie coughed heavily and batted the smelling salts away.
