The Duke Is Mine - Eloisa James [46]
She hesitated, and then: “I like to read.”
“You’re a bluestocking?”
“I don’t think I deserve that label. I think of bluestockings as fiercely educated and extremely intelligent.”
“I would have no trouble believing that you are quite intelligent, though I cannot speak to your education.”
“I know your mother’s book by heart,” she offered.
He took her small, rather crooked smile and played it back to her. “The Mirror of Compliments is no substitute for Oxford University.”
“Which does not allow women inside its august doors.”
“That is true. So let me guess.” He looked her over. She was a perfect bundle of English femininity: demure, yet with an undeniable backbone. Her options were limited, as she did not look particularly rebellious. “You play the harp. When you are not reading books about travels along the Nile.”
Georgiana had a lovely calmness about her. He knew instinctively that she would never throw a scene, let alone china, even when she was irritated with him—as she was now. “I cannot play the harp. While I would quite enjoy reading about the Nile, I am happiest dabbling with what I believe you gentlemen call chemistry.”
“Chemistry?” He never would have thought of it.
“That is perhaps too formal a word for what I do,” she said, cocking her head to one side like a curious bird. “I like to mix potions. Olivia says that I am an apprentice witch.”
“What sort of things do you make?”
“I try to improve products that already exist,” she said. “Domestic products, for the most part. Duchesses have always—” She stopped, a lovely flush of rose sweeping up her cheeks.
“Duchesses?” he prompted.
She took a deep breath. “The ladies of great houses have always, of course, had more time and leisure than other women. So, many of them have given time to chemistry, for lack of a better word. Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, is now considered the first female scientist. Actually, she’s the only woman scientist I know of, though she lived back in the seventeenth century.”
“Except for yourself,” Quin said.
“I’m nothing of the sort,” Georgiana said, looking faintly horrified. “I merely dabble.”
“Is your sister, Miss Lytton, also interested in science?” Quin inquired. “Is she also an apprentice witch?”
“Not at all,” Georgiana said. “Olivia has quite different skills than mine.”
“I suspect twins often define themselves in opposition to each other. Our local justice of the peace has two boys who are as dissimilar as they could possibly be.”
“Olivia and I would confirm your hypothesis. In fact, I am fascinated by concrete objects, whereas Olivia is much more interested by language.”
“Language? Do you mean the study of different languages?”
“We’ve studied several languages. But what Olivia truly enjoys is puns.” She looked at Quin with a rather aggressive light in her eyes. “These days, we think of language play as mere twaddle, but I am of the belief that it will be a serious subject of study in the future.”
“Puns,” Quin repeated. “Words that mean more than one thing?”
“Exactly.”
“Now that you say so, I noticed a distinct proclivity for puns during Miss Lytton’s conversation with Lord Justin.”
Georgiana colored again, to Quin’s interest. Perhaps she guessed the sort of limerick that Olivia had aired—to wit, the lady from Peedle and her needle.
But at that moment Quin’s mother cleared her throat. “I shall make final arrangements for the ball this afternoon, and I should be grateful if Miss Georgiana and Lady Althea would assist me in this matter.” She gave both girls a smile. “I am most desirous to hear your ideas for the entertainment.”
Test Number Two, Quin thought to himself.
While Lady Althea scrambled to assure the dowager that she was ready to help her in any way, Georgiana accepted in a far more dignified manner. In fact, Quin liked her.
Olivia, for her part, did not offer to help—not that her assistance had been requested nor, indeed, would be welcomed. She and Justin seemed to be making plans for some sort of excursion on horseback.
Notwithstanding the