The room itself had a vaulted ceiling that was lined with wood. Wooden beams supported the structure, which put Julia in mind of the hull of a ship.
They’d finished a sumptuous, multicourse dinner with dignitaries from the university in the Queen Anne Room and had now retired to this more intimate setting for after-dinner drinks.
On their arrival at the castle, the Emersons had been welcomed by a piper, under flaming torches. The university hosts were incredibly hospitable and had even arranged for Julia and Gabriel to view the Scottish Crown Jewels and the Coronation Stone before dinner.
After dinner, Julia had excused herself to the ladies’ room and called Rebecca, in order to check on Clare. Relieved that all was well, she returned to the reception and saw her husband encircled by members of the university court and city officials.
His blue eyes caught hers and he smiled, a ray of sunshine just for her. She smoothed the skirt of her black velvet gown. They’d dressed to match one another. The Professor wore a tailored black suit and tie, his hair carefully combed, his dress shoes shiny. His gold pocket watch and fob threaded through the vest beneath his suit jacket. And he’d eschewed his beloved Scotch for coffee, in keeping with his commitment to sobriety.
He beckoned her with his eyes, unwilling to interrupt the well-dressed gentleman who was talking in his ear scarcely without drawing breath. But Julia felt uncomfortable breaking into the conversation. She inclined her head in the direction of the bar and made a beeline toward it, quietly ordering a cup of tea.
Gabriel gazed longingly at the tumblers of single malt ambrosia the other guests were drinking. He waited for a break in the conversation so he could join his wife at the bar. Surely he could find something better than coffee.
“Mrs. Emerson, I’m Graham Todd.” A middle-aged man, equally well dressed but in a navy suit, approached Julia from the side.
He held out his hand and she shook it. “Pleased to meet you. Call me Julia.”
Graham smiled kindly beneath his graying beard. He had reddish hair that was beginning to gray and strong eyebrows. His eyes were blue and rather keen. One got the impression by looking at him that he didn’t miss much.
“I understand you study Dante, as well.” Graham sipped Scotch from his crystal glass. He sounded English rather than Scottish, at least to Julia’s ears.
“Yes, I’m studying with Cecilia Marinelli at Harvard.”
“I recognized your name from Don Wodehouse’s invitation list. Will you be participating in the workshop in April?”
“I will.” Julia paused, unsure whether it would be presumptuous to ask Graham the same question.
“Don was my supervisor at Oxford. I’m the Dante specialist here at Edinburgh.”
“It’s good to meet you. Edinburgh is an incredible city, and Gabriel is really looking forward to being part of the university community.”
“Will you be joining him?”
Julia hesitated. “I would like that. I need to work out a few things with Harvard, because I’m supposed to be in coursework next fall. Of course, I couldn’t mention anything to them until after tomorrow, when the Sage Lecturer is announced.”
Graham nodded his head. “Of course. We’d be delighted to have you in our department. While we haven’t set our courses for next year as yet, I can certainly send the schedule to you as soon as it’s finalized. What will you write your dissertation on?”
“Thank you. I’m still putting together a proposal for Cecilia, but I had thought of exploring Guido da Montefeltro’s death scene in the Inferno, contrasting it with that of his son Bonconte in the Purgatorio.”
“What do you find interesting about Guido?”
“Well, I was fascinated by his account of his own death, and how he claimed St. Francis of Assisi came for him when he died but was defeated by a demon.”
“Ah,” said Graham. “Fairly straightforward, isn’t it?”
“Dante encounters Guido in the circle of the fraudulent. I’m not sure we can treat his testimony as truthful.”
Graham tugged at his beard. “A good point. But where’s the fraud?”
Julia leaned forward eagerly. “Dante tells us that Hell is structured according to the virtue of justice. So despite what Guido says, justice places him in the Inferno. If he is there justly, why should Francis appear?”
Graham lifted a shoulder. “Francis is unsuccessful in saving Guido, as I recall.”
“If Francis is a saint, he would agree with Dante that justice structures Hell, which means he wouldn’t be second-guessing God. So either Francis didn’t appear at all, or he appeared for a different purpose. And Guido is lying in either case.”
Professor Todd chuckled. “Ah, you must be the young lady who needled Don into taking a second look at Guido. He’s become obsessed with him.”
Julia reddened. “Oh, no, I didn’t needle him. But he came to hear my Guido paper at a conference and he argued with me a little.”
Graham’s eyes grew knowing. “The last time I saw Wodehouse argue with a graduate student, the student abandoned his graduate program and became a shepherd.”
“Oh, dear.” Julia was horrified.
“I don’t think you’re in danger of quitting Harvard and becoming a shepherd?” Professor Todd gently teased.
“Um, no.” Julia sipped her tea. “I’m just trying to finish my coursework so I can take my area examinations.”
Graham looked at her thoughtfully. “Let me introduce you to some of the other faculty in Italian studies and especially to my department head. We may have some courses that would be appropriate.”
He stretched out his arm, indicating that Julia should precede him.
With a grateful smile, she walked into the breach, catching Gabriel’s eye as she moved.
When he saw her being welcomed by colleagues from the university, he beamed with pride.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was raining.
Professor Emerson had come to the conclusion that the residents of Edinburgh were greatly in need of an ark. It had done nothing but pour since he and Julianne arrived at the castle for dinner.
He turned up the collar of his Burberry raincoat and adjusted his tweed cap, switching his umbrella to his left hand. After he and Julia arrived back at their hotel, Julia had realized they’d run out of diaper cream. And, as she was quick to remind him, diaper cream was essential to the baby’s health.
Gabriel went downstairs to the lobby in search of the concierge but was dismayed to discover she was not on duty.
“This would never happen at the Plaza,” he’d grumbled to himself as he queried the front desk staff. Indeed, the Plaza Hotel in New York had never left him or Julianne wanting, no matter the hour.