“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” he quoted to himself.
There, in his Saint Michael’s inbox, was an email from Professor Wodehouse of Magdalen College. Among the short list of email recipients, he spied a certain Julia Emerson. But thankfully, no Gabriel Emerson.
Studentfucker.
Paul winced. He didn’t like thinking of Emerson and the beautiful former Miss Mitchell together in any capacity. And certainly not like that.
He knew they were married. He knew they’d just had a daughter. The night before, Julia had sent a mass email announcing the birth of Clare and sharing a photograph.
The photo was only of Clare. Even to Paul’s eyes the infant was beautiful. She had wisps of dark hair peeking out from underneath a purple knitted cap. But he’d wished Julia had sent a photo of herself.
He wondered if she’d attend the Dante workshop in April. He wondered if he should email her to find out before making his own decision.
“Hi, Paul.”
Paul heard a female voice over his shoulder. He turned in his chair and saw Elizabeth, one of the new faculty in Religious Studies, standing at the threshold to his office.
Elizabeth was gorgeous. She had bobbed, curly dark hair, dark eyes, and unblemished brown skin. She was Cuban American and hailed from Brooklyn.
Paul had already discovered that Elizabeth liked to play Cuban music in her office. Loudly.
She gave him a wide smile and adjusted her rectangular glasses. “I’m going for coffee. Do you want to come with?”
“Um . . .” Paul rubbed his chin. He cast a conflicted look at his computer screen.
“Are you okay?” Elizabeth hovered in the doorway. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Sort of.” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Of course he wanted to see Julia. That was the problem. He’d finally moved on from her and started dating Allison, his ex-girlfriend, once more. And now this . . .
“Maybe I should bring you a coffee.” Elizabeth interrupted his musings. “What do you take in it?”
“I take my coffee black—like death.” He stood, bringing his six-foot-three frame to its full height. He towered over Elizabeth’s waifish five-foot-three frame.
She stood in the doorway, watching him.
He closed his laptop and grabbed his keys. “Coffee is on me. I’ve just been invited to a workshop in Oxford.”
“That’s great.” Elizabeth clapped her hands in excitement.
It had been a long time since someone had applauded for Paul. He couldn’t help but notice.
He pulled self-consciously on the front of his shirt. “The workshop is in April, in the middle of our semester. The powers that be won’t let me go.”
Elizabeth gave him a puzzled look. “Of course they’ll let you go. It’s Oxford. It’s good press for the college.”
She gestured to the hall. “While you’re buying my coffee, we can put together a campaign strategy. I have some ideas.”
Paul surveyed her enthusiasm and found himself returning her smile. He followed her into the hall.
Chapter Sixteen
Gabriel cannot decline the Sage Lectures.” Professor Katherine Picton, currently of All Souls College, Oxford, lifted the elegant china teapot from its silver tray. She served Julia and Gabriel before serving herself.
The trio were seated next to a roaring fire in the lobby of the Lenox Hotel. The Lenox was one of Gabriel’s favorite hotels in the region, and Katherine shared his opinion.
She added a slice of lemon to her Darjeeling and sipped. Tea was the sustenance of the British Empire and made the entire world England, including the Back Bay area. And it was, she thought, not only a civilized beverage, but a fortifying one.
She gestured to the plates that were spread across the low table. “Please enjoy a scone. They’re excellent.”
Julia and Gabriel exchanged a look. They did as they were told.
Clare was sleeping peacefully in her car seat on the couch next to Katherine. She’d insisted the baby be placed next to her. “The Sage Lectures are a feather in your cap, Gabriel. They will launch you to greater opportunities. I can’t imagine you’d want to be at Boston University forever?”
Julia gaped.
Gabriel looked down at this tea. “The cross-appointment between Romance Studies and Religion isn’t ideal.”
“Of course not.” Katherine put her tea aside and briskly buttered a scone before adding strawberry jam. “On the other hand, Julia, you can’t keep delaying your doctoral program forever. You need to get on with it.”
Julia closed her mouth.
“I take it you two have come to ask for advice?” Katherine probed. “I shouldn’t want to presume.”
“We’d be grateful for any suggestions you might have. Of course, we will need to talk further.” Gabriel gave an encouraging smile to Julianne, then regarded Katherine.
Seeking advice from Professor Picton was a tricky business. (It was, perhaps, like seeking advice from the queen of England. If one didn’t follow the advice offered, Katherine would not be amused.)
“You could ask the University of Edinburgh to delay your appointment, so that Julia can complete her coursework and pass her examinations. Then you can all go together.” With one hand, Katherine balanced her plate, and with the other, she adjusted the blanket around the sleeping baby. She gave a small nod of satisfaction to the infant.
“That’s a good idea.” Julia sounded relieved.
“But I advise against it.” Katherine tasted her scone again.
“Why?” Julia persisted.
“The world of academia is notoriously small. It’s also petty.” Katherine focused her shrewd gaze on Gabriel. “If the University of Edinburgh feels slighted, they’ll withdraw their invitation altogether and, further, word will get out that you’re difficult. I’m sorry to mention it, but there remains the circumstances surrounding your departure from the University of Toronto.”
“It’s no one’s business,” Gabriel gritted out. “Besides, Julianne and I are married now.”
“I’m not defending the old windbags, Gabriel, I’m simply telling you how things are. You’re a white male, which means the patriarchy of academia is slanted in your favor. But it also means the University Court at Edinburgh will not be impressed with your desire to sacrifice their prestigious invitation in order to stay at home in America with your wife and child.”
Gabriel had just taken a sip of tea. It went down the wrong way and he began to sputter.