Theodora

by Christina McKnight

  Mr. Price shuddered as if an afternoon picnic was the same as being bid to attend Almack’s. “Heavens, no,” he said. “You may go, Adeline, as long as you return in time for your afternoon fitting at the modiste. I have many business engagements tomorrow. Plus, I am certain I will attend my fair share of womanly gatherings once you are presented to society. I bid you both good day.”

  “Of course, dear brother. One does not miss a fitting with Miss Cleo,” Adeline called to his retreating form. “Good day, Alistair.”

  Adeline broke into a fit of laughter as soon as the door closed behind her brother. “I knew he would balk at the thought of a picnic with a horde of females.”

  “Since when am I hosting a picnic at my brother’s house?” Theo hissed. “I am certain Jude will not object, but truly, this is short notice.”

  “We are not going to your townhouse tomorrow, silly.” A mischievous smirk settled on her friend’s face—one Theo had learned meant the woman was up to something and she’d be better suited not to know what it was. Unfortunately, Adeline continued before Theo could voice her objections to hearing her friend’s plan. “There is a tourney in Whitechapel tomorrow afternoon, and Georgie and I will compete.”

  “Whitechapel? That is a most dangerous part of town.”

  “Do not fret,” Adeline said. “The tourney announcement was in The Post this morning, and the entries are said to be over a hundred. The winnings will be enough to pay for my—and Georgie’s—entrance into the Grand Archers’ Competition of London.”

  “And when did you plan to tell me you were using me and my home as an excuse for your absence?” The fact that Adeline made so many decisions without consulting Theo was irksome in the extreme, but Theo reminded herself that Adeline, Georgie, and Josie had befriended her on her first day at Miss Emmeline’s, and for that, Theo would be eternally grateful to them. “And what time shall I be ready tomorrow?” At Adeline’s puzzled expression, Theo continued, “So, I am not to come?”

  “Who will serve as our alibi if you are not at home on the morrow?”

  “What about your dress fitting with Miss Cleo?” Theo asked.

  “There is no appointment,” Adeline chided as if it were obvious, and Theo was too inept to see the whole of the ruse. “It was my backup plan in case you did not receive my letter to come for a visit today.”

  Theo should feel left out, the outcast who was the last to arrive in their small group, but while Theo dreamed of adventure, gallivanting about the less savory parts of London was a bit more than she was prepared for. Though she was undoubtedly the best archer in their group, Theo was unsure whether she was ready for such a public display of her skills. Besides, she could not chance anyone recognizing her, for the scandal would no doubt affect her brother’s position at the British Museum, one he longed to assume and had worked towards for many years.

  “Very well,” Theo said. “Have you both been practicing in my absence?” When Adeline avoided her question, Theo prodded. “Adeline, you know how important it is to keep up with your marksmanship exercises.”

  “I know, Theo, I know,” Adeline said. “But I have been ever so busy preparing for my season; dress fittings and the like, not to mention gloves, shoes, and hats. I will do better starting after this competition.”

  “Where are you gathering the coin for your entry fee?” Theo knew Adeline was allotted no allowance by her parents or her brother. Her friend’s financial status was well known among the girls at school. “I can ask Cart for an advance in my allowance—“

  Adeline forced a smile. “No, that is not necessary. Georgie has enough for both our entry fees—at least that is what she says. The new duchess hasn’t completely cut off her allowance as yet. And if we win, the money will more than cover the entry fee for the larger tourney in a week’s time.”

  Theo longed to believe they could fulfill their scheme to help Miss Emmeline, but without practice, there was little chance of Adeline and Georgie besting anyone. And if they lost, they would have less money than when they started.

  Their sworn promise the eve before they departed their beloved school—the place they all found one another—would be for naught. They’d stayed up late that night spending their final night at Mrs. Emmeline’s planning their futures; but they all understood they’d be in far different circumstances if they hadn’t met one another. How could they deny that to future generations of girls—sent away from their homes and families to a foreign part of England? She, Adeline, Josie, and Georgie were eternally grateful that Headmistress had placed them all together. It had made the last six years of Theo’s life not only tolerable, but enjoyable. Presently, they were charged with finding a way for the school to go on. To provide a refuge for all manner of young girls to come; hopefully one day, their own daughters.

  “Promise me you will send word when you arrive home tomorrow?” Theo begged. “I will not feel a moment’s peace until I know you and Georgie are safe—no matter the outcome of the tourney.”

  They were only young women. They could not make the necessary repairs Headmistress needed to keep her school open, not to mention the safety of everyone who lived on the property. That left only the money necessary to make the repairs. They’d all agreed it was something they could help with, though none of them were in a position to request it of their families.

  “I promise, and do not fret, with your tutelage, there is not a man—or woman—who stands a chance against a member of the Lady Archer’s Creed.”

  “Friendship, loyalty, and honor above all,” they chanted in unison.

  And there was one specific thing they were all adept at—or at least three of them. Though, it was something Theo hadn’t expected to happen so quickly.

  “I certainly hope your instincts are correct, Adeline, for if not, we all have much to lose.” Not only them but their families, as well. And Miss Emmeline especially. The school—the place they’d called home for six years—was in dire need of repairs, repairs their headmistress could not complete and also afford to pay her instructors’ salaries. “Now, please tell Georgie to remember her breathing.”

  “I will.” Adeline stood. “And you have no need to remind me to keep my arrogance under control for overconfidence leads to the downfall of man.”

  Those were not Theo’s exact words, but the meaning was there. “I wish you both the best of luck.”

  “Are you certain your calculations are correct, Theo?” Lord Cartwright asked, surveying the many hand-drawn maps before them, spread haphazardly around the room. “Because if they are accurate…”

  There was no need for Theo’s brother to finish his statement—they both understood the magnitude of her research. It was gratifying to know the countless hours she’d spent at The King’s School library weren’t for nothing. Cart had taken her to the school, a short walk from Miss Emmeline’s, on his first visit to Canterbury. Theo had instantly fallen in love with the grandness of the ancient buildings and that they included both girls and boys in their educational development. The school was far too expensive for her to attend, but their library was open to all—if you were willing to read, study, and research everything without removing the books.

  “I spent my final month in Canterbury going over and over every book I could locate on the matter.” Purported as a grammar school, the grounds and facilities were far more than anyone would expect from a school almost two-centuries-old. She’d even convinced Josie to accompany her on occasion, which suited her friend. The library had an extensive collection of medication references as well as an entire wall filled with nothing but old maps and other geography tomes. “My calculations are accurate. Over the next five hundred years, the world’s oceans will continue to rise, taking over what was viable, inhabitable areas of land.”

  “Have you established what is causing the rise?” Cart looked from the papers spread before him to Theo, his eyes narrowed as he read her notes once more.

  “I believe it is due to the melting ice in the colder parts
of the world.” Theo held a book out for him to see. “Here you can see that the lower elevations will be affected far more than areas of higher elevation.”

  “Remarkable.”

  Theo suppressed her smile. “With Cassini’s help and extensive knowledge, we should be able to pinpoint which areas in England—and the world—may very well be under water in the next thousand years.”

  “Have you told Cassini of this yet?”

  “When I requested an audience on his next voyage to England, I did mention a bit of what I’d studied over the last several years; however, I was not so foolish to tell him all.” No serious person in academia was imprudent enough to divulge all their research before the time was right. “At the time of my letter, I was still researching a few theories for the increased water levels along the English coast. I am fairly certain I have established the cause.”

  “Your thorough research certainly speaks to that point.” Cart gestured to the piles of books, papers, and maps littering his study. “I cannot believe you spent this much time at The King’s School—I expected you to revel in your time away from home, meet friends, and discover who you are, away from Mother.”

  He’d said the exact same thing to her on each of his visits. “Yes, to have the educational experience you were not afforded due to Uncle Julian’s betrayal and misuse of Father’s estate.”

  What her brother failed to understand was that she’d delighted in every minute away at school. She had met friends, had been given the luxury of studying what she found most compelling, and she had discovered what set her apart from others of her age.

  Theo set her book aside and stared hard at her brother. “Simon.” She affectionately used his given name, though most addressed him by his shortened title. Theo didn’t reach for his hand as he’d always shied away from contact, but she gave him her most reassuring grin. “I spent my time at Miss Emmeline’s School wisely. I did meet new friends, as well as receive a superior education. That The King’s School library was so close was a grand surprise, and my time there was worth every moment. Your sacrifice—and Jude’s—has been a most blessed gift to me.”

  “And what of your future?”

  “My future?” Theo asked. She’d labored over the subject for years, discovering where exactly her fate lies. “Well, I plan to take things as they come. I will attend this season, as agreed upon by you and Mother before I left for boarding school. As for past that…well, I sent my letter to Cassini, asking for an internship of sorts, though I am unsure how Mother will react.”

  Cart’s stare softened. “Leave the Dowager Countess to me, but I want you to understand that there is no hurry for you to wed—unless you settle on a man who truly suits. There are many life paths open to you: continued education, travel, and any number of hobbies.”

  Theo envisioned her dear friends in Whitechapel at the archery tourney. Certainly, she loved the pastime—took great pleasure in her skills—and even enjoyed teaching the perfect technique to others, but beyond that and the plan they’d developed to help Miss Emmeline, she hadn’t seen any future in the sport beyond garden and country parties.

  She’d considered the other two: education and travel. Possibly even combining them and journeying to France to visit the grand museum and attend lectures, all while working with Monsieur Damon Cassini, a man whose family had dedicated generations to developing topographical maps.

  “Do tell me you will not make any decision—even agreeing to consult with Cassini—before completely exploring all your options.” Cart worried for her, that much had been obvious since her birth, over a decade after his. Her brother had always stood up to their mother, demanding the dowager release her stifling hold on her only daughter—giving Theo a chance to know life beyond London proper.

  Tears threatened at the depth of his love for his only sibling; in truth, she felt the same affection for him. “I have no plans at courtship this season. As far as Cassini is concerned, the man agreed to meet with me to discuss my theory. That is all. He may very well have already discovered all I have, and be uninterested in my research.”

  “Even so, Stanford and I have agreed your knowledge is well suited to lectures at the museum.” His faith in her never ceased. “In only a few days’ time, my baby sister will be speaking before some of the most enlightened minds in all of England.”

  “I am looking forward to my lecture, Simon.” Several years ago, Theo would have rather fled the country for Siberia as opposed to standing before a crowded room and speaking. Alas, her time at Miss Emmeline’s had taught her that presentation—of any subject—was important. A woman who could assert herself with poise, grace, and knowledge before a gathering was a woman who would not soon be forgotten. This did not always lessen Theo’s nervous habits, but it did give her solace. Headmistress was a wise woman, and her first day’s task for her pupils was meant to teach a lesson, and show growth over time. “But do not hope for too much from my first foray—speaking before a group of schoolgirls is far different than lecturing a room of intellectuals. Besides, many will wonder what you and Stanford were thinking, allowing a girl just out of the schoolroom free rein in the museum’s lecture hall.”

  He chuckled. “When did you gain the skill of comedy, dear sister?”

  Theo hadn’t tried to jest. Her fears were real and in no way imagined.

  “You are well-known at the museum,” he confided. “Years ago, I shared our calculations on trajectory and how it could be applied to archery with Stanford and several other men. I could not understand if they were more fascinated with our discovery, or that a mere twelve-year-old female had been part of something grown men hadn’t yet considered.”

  The confession brought her up short, stopping her next words. To think that educated minds had spoken of her, known of her work, and were agreeable to attending her lectures was…well…it was nothing short of astounding.

  Theo focused on her clasped hands to hide her smile.

  “In fact,” Cart continued, “we have over sixty attendees scheduled to attend your lecture. Sixty! We have not had such a grand turnout since Richard Trevithick visited the museum in 1804 to discuss his steam engine—and that was long before my time with them.”

  Pride beamed from her brother, and Theo only hoped her lecture was worthy of his patronage.

  “Theodora! Where have you gone, child?”

  The study door flew open, crashing against its casing as the dowager rushed into the room, Jude, Cart’s wife, fast on her heels.

  Her mother stopped short, pressing her hand to her chest as if something had frightened her into stunned shock. “My heavens, Simon. What is all this nonsense?”

  Cart jumped to his feet. “Mother,” he said by way of greeting, his tone cool and unaffected. “We were discussing Theo’s time at Miss Emmeline’s.”

  The dowager eyed the stacks of books and papers littering every available surface. “This drivel is behind her, Simon. Presently, she should be focusing on her presentation to society, not senseless books and other worthless notions. And her name is Theodora.” The dowager pronounced every syllable. “You must stop with that silly nickname. She is a lady, certainly a diamond of the first waters this season, and I will not have anyone referring to her by a man’s name.”

  “Cart, I tried—“ Jude attempted to speak.

  “Trying and accomplishing are two very different things, Judith.” The dowager faced her daughter-in-law, her lips twisted into a scowl. “You would be wise to learn that if you ever hope to fill my shoes as Lady Cartwright.”

  Theo didn’t need to inform her mother that Jude had already usurped her place as countess, relegating their mother to dowager status. Anastasia Montgomery knew her place, but refused to accept it; though Cart and Jude didn’t seem to mind. The dowager did dote on Samuel and Olivia, and obviously relished the thought of having another girl to present to society—maybe one who actually took interest in pretty frocks, ribbons, and gloves.

  “Certainly, Mother,” Cart co
nceded, but threw a wink in Theo’s direction. “Jude and I will endeavor to reach your high standards for the Earldom.”

  “That is correct, you will,” the dowager huffed, bringing her fan forward and whipping it rapidly to and fro before her. “Now, Theodora, Judith, and I have an appointment with the modiste. Let us be off.” Her skirts flared about her when she pivoted toward the door, almost colliding with Jude, who stood a few paces behind her. “Judith, you are quiet as a mouse—do inform me of your continued presence, will you.”

  “Quiet as a mouse,” Cart repeated with a laugh. “I do believe that is a great compliment to my dear wife.”

  “Seen and not heard is only preferable to children, Simon,” their mother chided as she hurried from the room.

  “I dare say it is also preferable for dowagers,” Theo mumbled as she stood to follow Jude and her mother from the room.

  “I tell you, Theo,” he chuckled, the papers he held shaking in his hands from his merriment. “You certainly did not obtain your wit from Mother.”

  “Thankfully, not her sense of entitlement either, brother.” Theo flared her skirts and lifted her chin, following their mother from the room—her stride and stance matching the dowager’s.

  Masking her amusement with a serene smile as she headed toward the foyer, Theo had to fight her grin as the echo of Cart’s riotous laughter followed her the entire way.

  Chapter 3

  Alistair should have known Adeline could not be trusted to arrive home in time to depart for her fitting—a missed appointment that would no doubt cost him dearly. No one missed an engagement with Miss Cleo. The modiste prided herself on booking fittings months in advance, and Adeline’s lapse in timing would certainly affect the delivery of her new wardrobe. There were less than two weeks until the season officially began, and his sister was taking the responsibility of her preparation far too lightly for Alistair’s liking.