by Ella Quinn
“I’d ask how it went.” Phinn’s arms went around her and she had to blink back tears of frustration. “But I think I know by the look on your face.”
“They will let me attend lectures, but I may not matriculate. Baron von Neumann and his friend did all that was possible, but the head of the school and his advisers would not budge. I am allowed to study literature and philosophy, but nothing more.”
He led her to a small parlor overlooking their courtyard. Something didn’t make sense. “Why did the baron let you come all this way, thinking you’d been accepted?”
“Professor Angeloni, the one who told me I’d been accepted, only wanted me to work as his assistant for his research and translations. I speak many more languages than he does.” She bit down on her lip to stop herself from taking her anger out on her poor husband. “He knew I would not be accepted as a regular student.” Augusta would dearly love to murder the man. “I do not want to think about what I would have done if I had arrived here with only Prue. By the time I could have made arrangements to travel back, it would have been too late in the year.”
Wine, rather than tea, arrived along with cheese and bread. Phinn fixed her a plate, while Durant poured two glasses of chilled, dry white wine.
“What do you want to do?” Phinn’s tone was full of concern for her. Augusta fell in love with him all over again.
“I do not know. If I leave, would it be seen as failing or refusing to bow down to them?” She took a sip of wine, savoring the crispness. “They obviously think they have me backed into a corner.” His arm went around her shoulders. “I did not tell them I am married.”
“Knowing how some men’s minds work, if you’d mentioned that, they would have dismissed you out of hand.” He placed a slice of cheese on the freshly baked bread and ate it. “You’ll have to make a decision whether to remain and study what you already know. Or we can travel. There is a great deal of ancient architecture in Italy and all of Southern Europe. You once told me that you had first decided to attend university because you didn’t think you’d be allowed to make a Grand Tour.”
That had been true, until she had studied for her entrance examinations when the excitement of attending a university had replaced her original desire. “I feel as if I will have failed. You went to Oxford. Charlie is there, and Walter will go next year.”
“But I didn’t graduate. I doubt if Charlie will either. Walter or Phillip might, but only if they wish to go into the church, law, medicine, or wish to be a don.”
She had never heard that before. “Then why do so many young gentlemen attend?”
Phinn chuckled. “Probably to keep us out of trouble. Unlike ladies, young men are not suitable for marriage. Being in university gives us a chance to be away from the structure and protection of home and colleges such as Eton, yet still be in a safer place than Town.” He drank some of his wine. “Not that it always works.”
“I never knew that.” Yet did it matter? This had been her dream.
“What would a young man do if he faced the same choice as I am facing?” Augusta felt she owed it to the women who came after her—if women would ever be allowed to attend university—to make the same decision a man would make.
Phinn leaned back against the cushions, staring up at the ceiling. After several moments, he straightened. “Obviously, the circumstances would not be the same, but, if it were me, I’d wrap myself in my pride, and tell them to keep their offer. That I had better things to do with my mind and my time.” Phinn sipped his wine for a few seconds more. “Unless there was something they could teach you about Italian literature?”
“No.” Augusta shook her head. “I studied literature with one of the masters who was visiting London, and we have maintained a correspondence.”
“My dear, sweet, clever wife”—Phinn kissed her hair—“I am almost positive that you’ve learned everything a university has to teach you and more. If you wish to tell them to go to the devil, it is their loss.”
“I must think about all of this. Today has been such a disappointment.” It was as if something had been ripped out of her. Not her heart—Phinn held that—but something vital. She drained her glass and rose. “If you will excuse me.”
Her husband stood, holding out his hand. “Of course. I’ll see you at dinner. I have some business to attend to.”
Phinn watched Augusta trudge slowly up the stairs. Knowing her, she had not let those rubbishing commoners see her disappointment and anger. Yet it was palpable to him. He strode into the hall. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Yes, my lord.” Durant bowed. “When may I say you will return?”
“In two or three hours.” After he murdered the professor, then the chancellor. If there was any way possible, Augusta would attend this blasted university.
He found the administrator’s office, and was admitted immediately. Phinn only hoped he could find a solution for Augusta.
“Lord Phineas,” an older man said in excellent English. “I am Chancellor Balestra. It is a pleasure to meet you.” The man bowed. “I also have an interest in ancient architecture, and I recently read the paper you presented to the Royal Institution. It was well thought out.” He went back behind his desk and sat down.
Well, wasn’t that helpful. If he weren’t so angry, Phinn might have been pleased that someone in Italy had read his paper. Instead, he had to restrain himself from wrapping his hands around the man’s scraggy neck. “You spoke to a lady today. Lady Augusta Vivers?”
“Ah, yes. A very beautiful young woman, but sadly mistaken in her ability to attend our university. It is true we did allow one lady, but she was truly exceptional.”
Phinn was going to kill the man. “I understand she passed your examination.”
“So I was told, but many do.” The chancellor stared at Phinn for a second. “As a gentleman, you must agree that it is not a woman’s place to attend university. Your English universities do not allow women. And for good reason. The female sex cannot withstand the rigors of academia. Why her family allowed her to travel all this way with merely a chaperone is beyond my comprehension.”
Starched up, consequential prig. “Oh?” Phinn widened his eyes. “Did she swoon or resort to tears when you told her she had been lied to by one of your dons?”
“No.” The man shook his head. “She was very calm.”
“She’s a damn sight calmer than I am right now.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk. “I’d like to throttle you to within an inch of your life.”
Shock replaced the smug expression on Chancellor Balestra’s face. “May I ask what Lady Augusta means to you that you are so exercised on her behalf?”
At last, an intelligent question. “She is my wife. Lady Phineas Carter-Woods. Sister-in-law to the Marquis of Dorchester, cousin of the Marquis of Merton, and sister to the Duke of Rothwell. She is also the most intelligent person I have ever met or with whom I have come in contact. If I know her, and I do, she not only passed your blasted entrance examination, but did better than anyone else.”
Phinn couldn’t help a feeling of satisfaction when the man’s eyes protruded in fear. “I . . . I really couldn’t say.”
“Call in the don who graded the paper.”
The man swallowed, his throat working with the effort. He was lying. “That will not be necessary. She did indeed exceed the requirements.”
Finally, they were getting somewhere. “You might not approve her to attend the university”—unfortunately, it didn’t take much for him to imagine how difficult and humiliating they’d make it for her—“but you will allow her to take the final examinations required for a degree. I have no objection to the questions being in writing. Her Italian is fluent. You may choose literature if you wish.”
“But, my lord,”—the man was obviously in a panic—“she has not studied the material.”
“Nevertheless, you will permit her to take the examination, and if she passes, she will receive a degree certificate.” Phinn wa
s about to offer a donation to the damned place. Anything to allow Augusta to show these worthless popinjays she was better than them. “If you do not, I will contact Prince von Metternich—as head of the Habsburg foreign office, that should terrify the chancellor—and tell him the assurances he received concerning my wife’s place at the university were a lie.”
That threat did the trick. The man appeared stricken with dread. “Very well. It shall be as you wish.”
“So we are clear”—he speared the older man with a look—“I will make a copy of both the examination and her answers and send them to England, where the foremost authority on the Italian language and literature will also read them.” Phinn stood. “I shall leave our address with your secretary. I expect to hear from you within the next few days.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Phinn strode out of the room, stopping only to write down his address. Now he needed to find his wife a present so she wouldn’t murder him when he told her what he’d done.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Augusta spent the rest of the day trying to decide what to do. Phinn’s offer of travel was more than enticing. Yet, by dinner, she had not been able to make a decision. Making her way to the courtyard, where they usually met for wine, she was surprised to see only her husband. “Where are Prue and Boman?”
“They decided to try a restaurant someone told them about.” Phinn handed her a book. “I thought you might like this. It is a collection of poetry by Veronica Gambara.”
Augusta opened the book to the first page and her jaw dropped. “It is not only a collection of poetry, but the first of the printings.” She glanced at Phinn. “This must have set you back.”
“I wish it had. It was quite reasonable, but I knew you’d love it.” He poured the wine, but instead of handing her one of the goblets, he put them on the table.
Setting the book down carefully, she threw her arms around him. “What is the occasion? Or should I ask what you’ve done?”
His arms came around her, clasping her tightly to him, as if she might run away if he didn’t hold on. “Gave you another option.” He dropped a kiss on her head. “I went to see the chancellor and told him he would allow you to take the examination, and if you passed—which you will—they had to grant you a degree certificate.”
Elation such as she’d not felt since France filled her. Augusta leaned back to look at her husband. “How exactly did you convince him to agree?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “I threatened him with the full force of the Austrian Foreign Office.”
Never in her life could she have imagined being married to a man who was so in tune with her. Who wanted for her what she wanted. How had she got so lucky?
“You’re not angry?” He searched her eyes.
“Angry? No, not at all. Aside from the book, by a female poet, you gave me the solution to my problem.” Reaching up, she kissed him. What a clever man. “You do realize that if von Metternich and not his secretary had been involved, I might not be here at all?”
“That may be true. I have to say, once I worked out that Metternich was not in Vienna for most of the year, the same thought occurred to me. He is very much a conservative. So the secretary must have written all the correspondence. But, we’ll never know, will we?”
* * *
Two days later, Augusta received a letter inviting her to sit for the examination the following day. Her hand shook with excitement and anxiety. “What if I do not pass?”
“You will.” Phinn gave her an encouraging smile. “I have complete trust and faith in you.”
She was glad he did. Yet, was he right? Had all her studying and correspondence given her the equivalent of a university degree? She was about to find out.
The next day she sat for the examination, reading it over twice before she began to write. It was nothing she had not studied before. In fact, the test was not as demanding as her studies had been. Phinn had been correct. She already had a university education; she just hadn’t realized it.
Four hours later she handed it to the proctor seated on a high platform at the end of the room. The man glanced down at her. “Do you require a pause?”
“No, I have finished.”
A smug smile pulled at his lips. “So, you have given up.”
Augusta raised one brow. “Not at all. I have completed the test.” Walking over to the door, she opened it and a man entered. “My husband has hired a clerk who will copy my answers. They will be sent to England and reviewed.”
“Yes, the chancellor said as much.”
“In that case, I trust there will be no irregularities.” She nodded her head. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
Durant met her in the corridor.
“Let’s go home. I won’t have the results for a few days.”
“Yes, my lady.” To her surprise, he grinned.
“What is it?”
“I’ve picked up enough Italian to know it usually takes more than four hours to take that test. It will probably be the best one they’ve ever read.”
The mood was quiet when they reached the house. Everyone had agreed there would be no celebration until she received the results. The dinner conversation revolved around what city they wanted to see next. Letters had arrived from England, but Augusta was too distracted to read them.
That night, Phinn made love to her slowly, kissing and caressing every inch of her body until she was frantic with wanting him. “Now!”
“Almost.” He grinned against her inner thigh.
The instant his tongue touched her mons, she shattered into a thousand pieces. When he entered her, it was one smooth motion, and she clasped her legs around him, urging him to go faster until her sheath convulsed around him.
* * *
A week later, just as Augusta was fighting to keep herself from snapping at everyone around her, including the cat and dog, and Phinn was threatening to strangle the chancellor, a messenger from the university was shown into the drawing room.
The boy handed her a large letter paper-case, bowed, and left. For a long time, she couldn’t speak. “I don’t think I can open it.”
Prue studied the case. “It doesn’t look thick enough to be the examination.” She glanced at Boman. “Do they return one’s paper?”
“I never got mine back.” He looked at Phinn.
“Nor did I.” He turned to her. “Do you want me to open it?”
“No.” She shook her head. It was something she had to do. Untying the ribbon wrapped around it, she placed it on the low table in front of the sofa, and sat. No matter what happened, she did not want to be standing. She lifted the stiff, dark brown leather flap, took a breath, and drew out an ornate gold-edged certificate with seals and the words cum laude on the front next to her name. “I passed.” Heart pounding, she glanced up and everyone else was smiling. Tears filled her eyes. Phinn hugged her, being careful not to touch the certificate. “I passed. I really did it!”
He searched her eyes as he dabbed them with his handkerchief. “I always knew you would.”
Prue passed around glasses of French champagne. “Hector gave me several bottles in the event we had something to celebrate.”
Augusta swiped at her eyes, unable to think of anything to say.
Holding up his glass, Phinn said, “To the most intelligent lady I know.”
“Here, here!”
Minerva barked and ran around the parlor in a circle, and Etienne jumped onto Augusta’s lap. She saved her drink from being knocked over by the Dane’s tail. “I think they feel the happiness too.”
Phinn took the certificate, placing it back in the letter-case. “What’s next?”
“How would everyone like to travel down to the south of Italy and take a ship to Egypt?” Augusta glanced at the smiles on everyone’s faces.
“I think that sounds like an excellent idea. You can study hieroglyphics and I’ll—”
“Study the pyramids.”
AUTHOR NOTES
One of the issues I had was getting my characters to Vienna. The roads really were as bad as I’ve portrayed them. Then I discovered that most goods and people traveled by water. But I knew that today, the Isar river from Munich to the Danube at Regensburg is not navigable. Further research revealed that in the early 19th century a series of canals and locks had been built to facilitate river traffic.
According to accounts written by English travelers in the early 19th century, Vienna’s streets, indeed, had no sidewalks (pavements) and were hazardous to tourists. English coachmen frequently came to grief. Therefore, local coachmen were hired.
In England betrothal rings that were also used as wedding rings were common among the aristocracy. However, in the Austrian Empire engagement rings as we know them were used with regularity.
In parts of the Austrian Empire, such as Slovenia, Hungary, and Croatia, many noblemen maintained a household troop.
The marriage customs mentioned were and, in some places, still are common.