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“Have you heard?” Abigail slipped onto the stool beside Esther at the long counter in the chemistry laboratory.
“That I failed last week’s lab?” Esther frowned at the list of ingredients on the paper in front of her. She was doing better on exams—she could memorize even if she didn’t completely understand—but continued to struggle with the weekly experiments. She might recall the properties of the various substances and liquids but often incorrectly predicted what would happen when combining them.
“You didn’t fail. It was just a little messy, that’s all,” Abigail said—a gross understatement of the overflowing disaster Esther had caused by accidentally switching two ingredients. “I meant, have you heard the news about Professor Lind?”
Esther felt her heart lurch. She swiveled on her seat to face Abigail.
“He’s left Bedford. He’s not teaching here anymore.”
“What?” Esther gripped the counter, afraid she might fall off her stool.
Abigail nodded. “He’d been here over six years too. But he gave his resignation after the concert Friday night. No one knows why.”
Esther knew why. Or she thought she did. If Mrs. Reid had overheard him—if she had believed he was pursuing a relationship with a student . . . What if he hadn’t resigned at all? What if he had been dismissed?
Professor Adams entered the room and called the class to attention. Esther gathered her materials in silence, all while fighting a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and wanting to go somewhere by herself so she could cry. He couldn’t be gone. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
But then, neither had she when she’d left him standing alone in a corner Friday night.
* * *
The remaining three weeks of the term seemed to pass more slowly than the first three months had. Literature class went from being her favorite to her least favorite, as the guest lecturers lacked the passion and excitement that Professor Lind’s had.
Twice Esther had nearly approached Mrs. Reid, to confess her part in Professor Lind’s dismissal, for Esther felt certain that he had been dismissed. He loved teaching and would not have given it up so abruptly. She felt guilty and responsible, though she hadn’t exactly done anything wrong. Neither had Professor Lind. His brief words the evening of the concert had been only that—words. Neither of them had acted on whatever it was they had supposed they felt. Feelings that Esther was dismayed to find did not diminish during the last lonely weeks of term, though she tried to banish them by throwing every bit of herself into her studies.
“Come with us,” Molly had pled one Saturday afternoon in mid December. “We’re going Christmas shopping. It will cheer you up. You’ve had the morbs far too long.”
Esther had shaken her head. She had no one to shop for except Lady Parker, and the best gift she could give her was to do well on exams.
It was with great relief and excellent marks in nearly every subject that Esther boarded the train to Liverpool a few days before Christmas. While the other students spoke excitedly of going home to see their families, friends, and even beaus, Esther did not feel any great sentiment toward Liverpool or Wayburn. Her room at Bedford felt as much a home as any place ever had, with Molly more of a friend than she’d ever been blessed with before.
The train arrived at three o’clock in the afternoon, and a carriage was waiting to drive her to Wayburn. When she alighted in front of the house, Esther still wore her bonnet and even accepted assistance from the footman. Lady Parker stood on the front step, leaning not on her cane, but on two servants, one on either side. She met Esther’s gaze with a look of approval, and Esther felt a rush of gratitude for her benefactress. Lady Parker had never been particularly affectionate toward her, but she had demonstrated love and generosity.
Forgetting decorum, Esther gathered her skirts in her gloved hands and hurried up the steps. She paused in front of Lady Parker and leaned forward, placing a kiss upon the old woman’s cheek.
“What’s this?” she exclaimed. “Taught you how to kiss at that college, have they?”
Esther nearly laughed. It wasn’t like Lady Parker to jest. “Of course not. I’m just happy to see you.”
“You’d best get me inside before you’re seeing me on my knees. I haven’t been outside since you left.”
“Not at all?” Esther stepped back as the servants turned Lady Parker around and assisted her into the house. Her legs moved very slowly, and she seemed to tremble more with each step. Once inside, they helped her into the parlor, into a chair lined with large, fluffy pillows.
Lady Parker’s hands shook as they rested on the arms of the chair. “I’ve had a telegram from Mrs. Reid apprising me of your first-term grades.”
Esther held back a scowl, wishing she might have been the one to share that news. “Chemistry is not my forte.” She had passed, but barely.
“Perhaps not, but it seems nearly every other subject is. Your marks were all quite good, even French and algebra improved, I was pleased to see.”
“I worked hard,” Esther said, relieved Lady Parker did not seem disappointed in her.
“So I’ve heard. Mrs. Reid says you are the finest of students, and she is exceptionally pleased to have you at Bedford. As you know, your acceptance there was on a trial basis and as a personal favor to me.”
Esther hadn’t known and felt grateful for that. She couldn’t have imagined feeling more pressure to succeed than she’d felt already.
“But now the trial is over, and you have passed.” Lady Parker seemed to sag in her chair, as if her speech had sapped the last of her strength.
Esther stood and reached for one of the blankets frequently draped over the arm of the sofa when they read. The high-ceilinged room was notoriously drafty, its lone fireplace too far removed from the furniture to provide any real warmth.
With a start, Esther realized much of that furniture was missing. The blankets, too, were gone. She looked slowly around the room, noticing the bare walls and floors. Even the large rugs were missing.
“Lady Parker,” Esther said, alarmed.
Lady Parker’s eyes flickered open. “What is it?”
“Where have your belongings gone? The furniture and paintings and rugs?”
“Sold.” Lady Parker’s mouth puckered smugly. “All of them. Just a few essentials left for that nephew of mine to inherit. I’d do without those if I could. The money has gone too—most to the college, though I have set aside enough for your expenses until you have completed your education. I decided not to leave you more than that.”
“You don’t have to leave me anything.” Esther hadn’t really believed Lady Parker when she had promised an inheritance several months ago. “And if my education is so costly that you must give your possessions away, then I should prefer not to return to Bedford.”
“Of course you will return,” Lady Parker scolded. “Enough podsnappery. A gentlewoman does not argue. I can do what I wish with my money, and I have. Do not be ungrateful for it. After I’m gone my nephew will get the estate and everything tied to it. I’m simply ensuring that precious little is left when I go.”
“But surely you want to live in comfort until then,” Esther pled.
“Comfort is knowing Jackson won’t get it and that no man will pursue you for your money. Besides, I’m not long for this world.”
“Don’t say that.” Esther rushed to her side. “You’ve just missed my reading is all. You wait and see, I’ll have you up and about and arguing with me about Dickens in no time.” She clasped Lady Parker’s frail hand in hers, disbelieving. How had the woman aged so in only a few months?
“Time to dress for dinner,” Lady Parker said, ignoring Esther’s protests. “We have guests, and I’ve a surprise for you, so wear something nice—the dress you wore to the concert. It’s time you meet the man who is going to inherit Wayburn.”