Pride and Prescience by Carrie Bebris Read Free Book Online Page A

and set the glass downslowly. “In itself, the fact that their creators and owners believed in their power makes them worthy of study,” he said at last. “Familiarity with a culture’s beliefs enables historians to better understand the people as a whole.”
    Randolph hadn’t really answered her question. But she hesitated to press the subject, afraid of sounding naïve to the scholar.
    He withdrew his pocketwatch to check the hour. The silver timepiece was round and perhaps two and a half inches in diameter. An engraved star adorned the front of the case; a circle connected its five points. As he clicked open the case, she noted some strange characters inscribed inside. They resembled letters, but not from any alphabet she’d ever seen.
    “Runes,” he said, noting her curious expression. “Characters from ancient times.”
    The watch reminded her of some of the items she’d seen that morning. “Is that one of your archeological finds?”
    “No.” He flipped the case shut and returned the watch to his fob pocket. “Nothing so valuable. Merely something I had commissioned for myself.”
    She wanted to ask what the runes meant, but sensed he preferred to end the subject. “I confess, I’ve never heard of your pursuit as an academic discipline,” she said instead. “Is it a common field of study?”
    “Unfortunately, the universities at which I’ve taught regard my focus as eccentric at best. In fact, one of them even housed me with physicians studying madness instead of with other historians or scientists.” He chuckled. “Perhaps someone thought I needed their services.”
    “You’ve taught at more than one university?”
    “The strength of my more mundane scholarship persuades institutions to hire me on and finance my expeditions, which turn up more ordinary treasures than mystical items. But in the long term, conservative governing boards are reluctant togrant permanent positions to someone with ‘strange’ interests. So I seem to have fallen into a cycle of joining a new faculty, lecturing for a time, embarking on a university-sponsored expedition, and returning to find that the school wants only the artifacts I’ve unearthed—not me. While here, I’d hoped Oxford or Cambridge might offer me a post, but so far my work has been greeted with the usual skepticism.”
    She glanced down the long table to Darcy, who appeared trapped with the duchess in the polite but empty small talk he dreaded. Remembering her husband’s response to the museum display, Elizabeth could hardly be surprised that stately academic institutions placed Randolph’s studies on the fringes of respectability. Yet surely she was not the only person in all England to find his field of study intriguing. “Have you considered soliciting private patronage?”
    He nodded. “I find, however, that without the association of a college to lend my work legitimacy, many potential patrons are more interested in speculation than in scientific inquiry. They seek financial gain, not enlightenment, and expect me to unearth some magical treasure that will make them rich. One exception has been Mr. Frederick Parrish, who sponsored my trip to London purely out of friendship.”
    Elizabeth was beginning to feel that, in never having heard of Mr. Parrish before this week, she’d been living under a rock. Was there a soul in London unacquainted with him? “I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Parrish recently. He is a generous man?”
    “I have hopes that he will finance my next archeological dig.” She could guess what Miss Bingley would have to say about that.
     
    After dessert, the ladies departed to take tea in the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to talk and smoke in private. Darcy, as usual, declined to partake of tobacco, but the scientistsand the earl lit pipes. The pungent scent drifted into the air, carrying with it a light haze. Lord Chatfield leaned back in his chair, drew a long draught from his pipe, and asked the physicist