He knew he wasn’t himself at breakfast. Margaret was worrying over him like a mother hen.
The shy and awkward daughter of his old physiology professor had blossomed into a delightfully winsome young lady, but also one who had no truck with introverted academics.
“What troubles you about this meeting?” she finally asked.
“I don’t know, my pet,” Phillip replied. “Something about the man…his eyes, I suppose. MacOwen is certainly knowledgeable about osteology, and says he wishes to make a large grant in return for being allowed access to our facilities, but…”
“Osteology?” Now her brow furrowed in the charmingly childlike way which made her seem so much younger than her nineteen years. “I think I’ve heard you mention the word. The study of bones, isn’t it?”
Phillip pulled his young wife onto his lap and tickled along her ribs. “Human bones, Angel. The study of lovely skeletons like yours.” Phillip hands tickled her more strategically as he tried to turn teasing into something more, but she squealed and leapt up.
“You, sir, are a cad. You may be the youngest Proctor at the University, but you should have been Professor of Knavery!” She drew him to his feet, gave him a hug and warm kiss, then set his hat on his head. “Now go meet with this generous benefactor, my love, and come home a more learned and successful husband.”
A final kiss and embrace, and Phillip waved farewell from the hansom cab’s window, already looking forward to his lovely bride’s company that evening.