The Odin Inheritance (The Pessarine Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Andrew laughed... a warm, pleasant sound. “Physics,” he said. “If Cambridge allows Americans to study such things.” Max introduced us and Andrew shook hands with each person in turn.

  “I must say, I’ve found everyone in the Icarus Squadron to be friendly and helpful in the few days I’ve been here,” the American said. “My American colleagues warned me that you British chaps were standoffish and painfully polite.”

  “I’d be more than happy to extend an even warmer welcome to you, Mr. Michaelson,” Lizzie cooed, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

  Mr. Michaelson barked a laugh. “Please, y’all, call me Andrew.” His smile was brilliant and mischievous as he bowed politely to Lizzie. “I thank you for the offer, ma’am, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

  “Oh, pooh,” Lizzie said, laughing. Clearly, she hadn’t taken offense at his refusal.

  To my surprise, Andrew turned to me. “Max says you’re a Math major who dabbles in other sciences. I hoped you’d be able to give me some insight into the Physics professors before I meet with them tomorrow.”

  “Those Physics chaps don’t know a gem when they see it,” Griff growled. “Most of them wouldn’t give our Ari here the time of day.”

  “Don’t like smart women,” Needle confirmed, nodding agreement with Griff.

  Andrew’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

  “Surely this comes as no great surprise, coming as you do from Harvard,” I said, my voice tight. “Women are not admitted to that university, or even allowed to attend classes there.”

  Andrew dipped his chin, looking at the table’s surface, thinking. Then he looked up and met my eyes. “You speak the truth,” he admitted, “Harvard doesn’t admit women. It’s not a policy I agree with. I had hoped, since I know Towson women take Cambridge classes, that attitudes here would be more,” he paused, “egalitarian. I’m sorry to find that is not the case.”

  “As am I,” I said. “Though the Physics department may be short-sighted when it comes to women’s abilities and education, they are well versed in their subject area. Dr. Oberlin, the head of the department, is an expert in his field, and has many books in his personal library you will find useful.”

  I knew I would have found them useful, had I been allowed near them. There was a reason why people called Dr. Oberlin ‘Obstinate Oberlin’ and worse. I believed all of the nasty nicknames people used for the unpleasant fellow were richly deserved. I’d come up with a few of the more colorful ones myself.

  “So long as you ignore the books with titles like Why are Women Redundant?” Griff added. “I’ve been to his worship’s office for a job or two and seen his books. Hard to like the man, knowing how much he’s against gals like our Ari.”

  Andrew smiled. “You have true friends here, Miss Trevelyan,” he said, indicating Griff, who still looked affronted on my behalf. “I will take your counsel, and theirs, to heart.” He looked at the glasses on the table.

  “It seems to me the table is dry,” he said. “May I buy the next round? I’m eager to hear what improvements you’ve made to your airships. Perhaps my knowledge of the Harvard Aeronauts will come in handy, if you’re so inclined.”

  We were, and Mr. Michaelson headed to the bar to place our order, leaving us to ourselves for a moment.

  “Seems a nice fellow,” Needle drawled, “for an American.”

  “Good man with a wrench, the Harvard chaps say,” Max added, “and on horseback and with a gun though I suppose that’s because he’s from Texas. Savage place, I’m told.” He clasped his hands on the table. “Showed up at the airfield yesterday with letters of introduction, and I spent several hours chatting the fellow up. Seemed a decent chap, so I invited him here tonight. What do you think? We’ll need another hand for the Bosch, and he’s pleasant enough. Knows his way around an airship, and no mistake.”

  I put my chin in my hands and pondered Andrew as he stood at the bar talking to Gibson, our barkeep. We planned to add more cabin space to the Bosch so it could carry cargo and perhaps a passenger or two, but that meant a proportional increase in balloon, engine and fuel tank size to accommodate the extra weight. We’d all helped with drawing up the plans and determining our needs for this next step, and it was true another crewmember was part of the expansion.

  “How certain is it that Cambridge’ll have him?” Lizzie asked. “If he’s not admitted, I doubt he’ll stay here just to be part of the crew. As it is, most of us need jobs outside the Bosch to make ends meet.”

  “True enough. What do you think, Griff? Will Devil Oberlin take the American on?” Max asked.

  Griff snorted. “He’s not a lass, so he’s got a fair chance so long as he keeps his mouth shut about uppity females.”

  “Don’t know that he’ll like that old bastard,” Needle opined, “but he seems fair interested in our Ari here.”

  “What?” I said, surprised. “You’re barmy. He’s only just met me, for Heaven’s sake.”

  “Ah, but he already perceives the value of your many charms,” Max said with a devious smile. “Mostly because I detailed them to him at length.”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Oh, Max—you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

  He looked singularly pleased with himself. “I did, and why not? He ate the stuff up! Besides, he seems a nice fellow from a rich American family. I bet your parents would think him a fine catch.”

  “I have no interest in catching anything until after the Tripos is over,” I told him, annoyed. “And after that, I’ll be more interested in catching a storefront and some aeronaut hobbyists or professionals than some chap my parents like.”

  My crewmates laughed at me. “Oh, we know that,” Lizzie said, shaking her head as she chuckled, “but it’s such fun to watch.”

  Andrew arrived at that point, a tray full of drinks in his hands. “Here we go,” he said, setting the tray on the table. As he passed out the glasses to us, he eyed the plans on the table with obvious interest.

  “These the expansion plans you mentioned yesterday, Max?” he asked, sitting down beside me again. Lizzie hid a smirk by taking a drink of her small ale.

  “They are,” said Griff. “I’d be curious to hear your thoughts on them,” he said, waving a hand over the papers.

  What followed was a long discussion of airship design, punctuated by the scribbling of bits of machinery and equations on the corners of the plans, general opinions as to the best shape for air balloons and propellers, and a great deal of friendly arguing and laughing. Max was right: Andrew did know airship design, and he impressed all of us with his breadth and depth of knowledge on the subject. Before we knew it, two hours had passed.

  “I have to go,” I said, standing up. “It’s a long bike ride home, and I’ve some studying to do before I sleep. Must get in before Gildersleeve checks beds for curfew.”

  Andrew looked up at me, alarmed. “You’re going to ride your bicycle home through Cambridge alone and at night?”

  I stiffened. Who did this American think he was? “Well, usually Griff gives me and my bike a lift but the Rover’s back at the airfield. So, yes, it seems I will be riding my bike home through Cambridge alone and at night.”

  “But it’s dark,” Andrew insisted.

  “Ari,” Max warned, “what about that Laufeson chap? You’re not supposed to go anywhere alone, according to that Miss Allerton and my Millie.”

  “I know, but what are the chances the fellow would have followed me here? It’s been days and he’s been ordered to leave me alone.”

  “Millie said Miss Allerton would string us up if we let you go home alone,” Needle stated bluntly, “and I dare say she looks the type to do it.”

  I moved over to where I’d dropped my bookbag and picked it up, slinging it over my shoulder. “It’s not even nine o’clock. I’ll be faster on the bike than if I were to walk, and I know what streets to avoid. I should be fine.”

  “I insist on coming with you,” Andrew said, standing up and walking
over to me. “I refuse to let you make your way home alone.”

  Griff, Max, Needle and Lizzie exchanged a meaningful look.

  I looked up at the American and struggled to remain polite. One of the reasons I avoided romantic entanglements was because the gentlemen involved became proprietary, thinking they had the right to tell me what to do. “I do not need a protector,” I told him, gently but firmly.

  “I don’t mean to be one,” he countered, “since you seem to think you’ll make it home without incident. I need to head back to my hotel, and I’d like to ask you some more questions about the Physics department.” He shrugged and put his hands in his coat pockets. “As a rebel colonial, it may be that I’ll need your protection.” He smiled. “What do you say?”

  Part of me found the idea of a long walk alone with Andrew to be a very good idea indeed, but the more practical part squashed the notion, helped by my annoyance with his unnecessary masculine protective instincts. “It would be inappropriate for me to walk home with a gentleman alone,” I said, “even if you need a bodyguard.”

  “Quite right, my good man,” Max interjected. “A lady of her standing has her reputation to think of. She’s pushing her luck hanging out with us as it is, barbarians that we are.”

  Andrew turned to look at Max, clearly not understanding what he meant. “What’s her standing, then? Mathematics student?”

  Griff rolled his eyes. “She’s the daughter of Lord Aiden Trevelyan, Duke of Albemarle, you prawn,” he said. He looked at Needle. “Colonists,” he said disparagingly, and Needle nodded sage agreement.

  “That means she has a title?” Andrew asked, frowning. “Since we don’t have such things back home, I don’t even know what the proper form of address for a duke’s daughter would be. I’m sorry – I hope I haven’t caused offense.”

  “If we were being formal, and if Ari allowed it, you would call her ‘Lady Ariana’,” Max told him. “Since she does not allow such a thing among her aeronaut friends, you’ll just have to make due with calling her ‘Miss Trevelyan’ or ‘Ari.’”

  “Only our barman Gibson calls her ‘Lady Ariana’ here. Drives Ari up a tree, but he’ll not stop,” Griff added.

  “I see,” Andrew said, thinking. “So, your social standing will not allow you to walk home with a man, but riding alone across Cambridge unattended is acceptable?”

  “No,” Max said, a grin spreading across his face, “but she’s stubborn. Half the time one of us follows her home in the Rover, but we don’t tell her.”

  I opened my mouth in shock. “You do not!” I insisted. “Follow me home in the Rover? Not bloody likely!”

  Max tisked. “Language, your ladyship,” he teased, then looked at Lizzie. “Do you think…?” he began.

  Lizzie hopped up and smoothed her skirt as she came to stand beside me. She hooked her arm in mine. “I’ll go along to protect your honor, Ari,” she said with a wicked grin, “So long as the colonial agrees, that is.”

  I shot Lizzie a dark look, but she shrugged and nudged me with her shoulder.

  “Two protectors, then?” Andrew said with a smile. “How could I possibly refuse?”

  “As you wish,” I responded, and tugged the strap of my bookbag further up on my shoulder, doing my best to salvage a little dignity from the situation. “I’ll walk with you so I can keep you both from harm.”

  “Might as well leave your bicycle here,” Max suggested. “If you’re walking back to Towson, no need to drag it along. Griff can bring it by and put it in the shed tomorrow morning.”

  That seemed reasonable. “All right,” I said.

  “Excellent,” Andrew said. “Once we get to your residence, I can hire a cab to take me to my hotel.” He indicated the door. “Shall we?”

  Chapter Twenty

  There was about a mile of countryside between the Icarus Club and the outskirts of Cambridge. Andrew took my bookbag despite my protests, and we began our trek back into town, Lizzie on one side, Andrew in the middle and I on the other. It was a cloudless and, therefore, chilly evening, but the light of the stars and a waning moon provided some illumination on the road. Lizzie, as always, was a dazzling conversationalist, and she kept up a lively dialogue with Andrew as we walked, asking about his home in Texas and America in general. I found I didn’t really want to talk much and was content to listen as Andrew answered Lizzie’s questions.

  “My parents own a great deal of land in Texas,” he told her, “and earned much of the family fortune raising livestock initially, and now, drilling for crude oil. I wanted more than that kind of life. My parents agreed to pay for my education at Harvard, and now at Cambridge… if they’ll have me, anyway. My younger brother is keen to follow in my parents’ footsteps. He’ll take the farm, the drills, and the land, and I’ll find my way somewhere else, I hope.”

  “Really? Your parents don’t expect you to take over the business?” Lizzie asked, surprised.

  “No, ma’am. I suppose you think it odd, but I’m not cut out for that kind of life, and my parents know it. So long as I’m happy and can make my own way, they don’t mind. Jeffrey is far better at managing the place than I am.” He chuckled. “My mind is always on flying, or the moon, or airship design. Never liked cattle much, and I’m only interested in crude oil if it can be used to power an airship.”

  “Sounds like me and the shop,” Lizzie remarked. “Pays me enough so I can live, but my heart isn’t in it. It’ll be grand when the Bosch can go independent and I can fly to earn a living.”

  “I know how you feel,” Andrew said. “I feel closer to home, somehow when I’m on an airship.” He turned his attention to me. “Is that what it’s like for you, Miss Trevelyan?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “In many ways, yes,” I said, marveling at Andrew’s loquaciousness. I didn’t like to talk about my family very much. He seemed quite willing – and even eager – to share what he could about himself with us.

  Not wishing to say anything else, I turned my attention to the road ahead of us and saw the road construction site I’d passed on my way to the club. The tools, wheelbarrows, and cobbles sat where they’d been earlier, coated in shadow. I peered into the darkness, squinting my eyes in a poor attempt to see better. The group of men resolved into four tall male students I didn't know led by a short, stocky man I knew only too well. He walked like a toad, swaying back and forth and using his arms to help him keep his balance. The students, oddly, wore tinted glasses even though it was dark.

  "It's Dr. Oberlin," I said, hardly believing my eyes. "What in the world is he doing out here at this time of night?"

  "Lizards usually hide under rocks at night, don't they?" Lizzie muttered. "Maybe he's tired of eating ants and other loathsome creatures and decided to take a bit of air?"

  "He's got a wild look to him," Andrew remarked. "Look how his clothes are rumpled and he's got a fevered glaze in his eyes. It's like he's been 'ridden hard and put away wet', as we say back home."

  Andrew was right. As they got closer, I could see Dr. Oberlin’s shirttails hung limply outside his trousers and only one suspender did the job of keeping his pants up. He usually wore his hair in a horrid comb over in a failed attempt to hide his wide bald pate, but the long hairs usually covering the vast expanse now hung long and loose on the left hand side of his head, making the man look oddly lopsided. His bespectacled companions looked equally disarrayed.

  "They all look a bit off the mark," Lizzie noted. "Are they drunk?"

  "They're certainly unsteady on their feet," I pointed out. "Oberlin is known for taking a glass of ale with a few students every once and a while... but not to this extent. I can't fathom what's going on."

  "There she is," came Dr. Oberlin's squeaky tenor voice, slightly slurred with drink, "that's the Towson girl!" He pointed at me with a stubby arm that ended in sausage digits. "She led Augustus on with those green eyes and a promise of a good time, and then turned nasty when Avery showed up. Augustus got barred from the Faraday because of her!"
r />   I ground my teeth in annoyance. So that was the story Laufeson had been telling, was it? The whole thing was my fault? Of course Oberlin would believe the blasted German.

  "That's a bloody lie!" Lizzie yelled before I could stop her. "He attacked her!"

  "So much for a quiet walk back to town," Andrew muttered.

  "I say we teach the trollop a lesson," one of the male students cried. I didn't recognize him or any of the others, but it hardly mattered. Clearly they knew me.

  The other students grunted their agreement with the plan as Oberlin shook his fist in the air. "We'll show you what the proper place for a woman is!"

  I looked at Andrew and Lizzie. "Run for help," I told them. I now regretted my decision to leave my bicycle at the Icarus Squadron headquarters. It would have helped me make a quick getaway, assuming Oberlin and his students only wanted to cudgel me and would, therefore, leave my companions alone. "I'll try to draw them off the road. Maybe if I hide in the cemetery, I can lose them."

  "Not bloody likely," Lizzie remarked. "What if you can't outrun the blighters? No dearie - I'm staying with you."

  "As am I," Andrew agreed. He took a quick look around and pointed at the road construction near the cemetery. "Let's head over there-we can use the cobbles and shovels to keep them at bay. Maybe we can convince them they have better ways to spend their time than roughing folks up on the road."

  We ran back down the way we'd come fifty feet to the wheelbarrows full of cobbles. Three shovels lay on the ground next to them. Oberlin and the students ran after us, somewhat unsteady in their gait, but drew up short when they saw us pick up the shovels.

  "That's no fair," Oberlin said and pointed an accusing finger at me. "She deserves a good drumming for what she did to Augustus. Step aside and let us administer a proper penalty."

  "Is this really the proper behavior for a professor of your standing, Dr. Oberlin?" Andrew shouted back. He groped within his shirt and pulled out something on a chain. Then he held the shovel in one hand while he clutched at the pendant on the chain around his neck. "Surely you don't want to tarnish your reputation with an accusation of assault on a woman?"