THE DUKE WAGER - EVE PENDLE ***
CHAPTER1
24 December1875
The chatter of women relaxing after a long term of work at Banton University was a warm embrace, but despite that, Miss Tamara Patterson rose from her seat.
“Where are you off to?” Doctor Reagan, the head of the Ladies College of Banton University, said sharply.
“I have to go!” Tamara, or Tam, as she preferred to be called, protested. “The carriage will be waiting!”
“Stay here. You’re only going to a tedious ball,” Doctor Reagan replied, blinking up at Tam from where she sat near the fireplace. “You don’t even want to go.”
They were in the common room of the Ladies College at Banton University having mulled wine for a rare afternoon off work for students and teachers alike. The air buzzed with festive cheer, pink cheeks from the alcohol and the heat of the fire, and anticipation of the holidays.
“I do!” She loved Christmas, and the annual Christmas Eve party was a highlight, even if there would be people there whom she didn’t want to—
“Tam wants to go because she’ll see the Duke of Newton,” said Miss Kilean, raising a glass from the corner. A dark-haired lady of about twenty-five who was studying astronomy, Miss Kilean smirked, knowing that she was teasing Tam.
“That’s not true! He’s horrible!” Even if he was also gorgeous, older, and a wealthy duke. But none of those things stopped him from being her enemy.
“So ‘horrible’ you had a crush on him,” Emma said with an eye roll.
Doctor Reagan covered her mouth with her hand, but her eyes creased with laughter.
“Not anymore!” Tam really had to go, but couldn’t leave without disabusing her colleagues of this notion. “The infatuation was very brief, all of one evening. Then he laughed at me for wanting to be a doctor.”
“He laughed at you?” Mrs. Emma Hanover, a quiet botanist with strawberry-blond hair who didn’t often frequent their social gatherings, scowled.
“Yes,” Tam confirmed. “And thus my interest in the Duke of Newton ended. Abruptly.”
“Mmm. Well, that is very stupid.” Doctor Reagan took another sip of her red wine. A lady in her late thirties, Doctor Reagan was no-nonsense and wise beyond her years.
“Precisely,” Tam replied, happy that she’d cleared that misunderstanding up. “But I do have to go. Merry Christmas!” She dashed for the exit, receiving a chorus of goodwill as she waved farewell.
Tam hummed a Christmas carol to herself as her family’s carriage took her home. In addition to the lovely afternoon with her friends and the ball this evening, there were three reasons to be happy today, which was convenient as she liked threes.
As a doctor in waiting, she acknowledged it would be better to like twos. There were two of almost everything in the body. Atriums in the heart. Arms, legs, lungs, kidneys. Undoubtedly two was great, but always was a problem for Tam. She had a tendency to mess up with two.
Ones were invariably unfortunate and lonely. Rectums. Appendixes. Spleens.
But threes? They were rare and beautiful. For instance, there were three small bones—phalanges—in each finger and that was part of what allowed the amazing dexterity of a human hand. Three layers to skin too, the barrier that kept out infection and made the human body miraculous.
So, she was very happy with her three reasons to be cheerful.
First, it was Christmas Eve, and Christmas was the best festivity. A bright light in the darkness of winter to celebrate birth.
Second, Doctor Dunn had informed her that next year she would not only be ready to treat patients herself, there was a chance she could be a formally, fully-qualified doctor. The head of the School of Medicine at Banton University had been skeptical when she’d begun the program to become a medical doctor. Only Doctor Reagan, the head of the Women’s college, arguing him around with rational debate, and irrational threats, had got her a place. But once in, Tam had won him over with sheer tenacious hard work.
Third, the honorable Russell Gurney MP was intending to introduce a bill to Parliament that would remove the bar on women being medical doctors. Mere months or perhaps a year, and she’d be out there in the world, helping the people who needed it most. Curing children, preventing suffering, and stopping the heartbreak of avoidable death and pain. What could be better?
The early evening was pleasantly cold and dry, the street dark but still busy as she stepped out of the carriage and walked up the steps to her parents’ townhouse. It was crisp and the sky clear, a black velvet blanket over Banton and the scent of wood and coal smoke hung in the air.
The footman seemed a trifle harassed, his hair out of place, when he let her in.
“Tam, thank god you’re here.” Her little sister, Helena, threw herself out of the parlor, wild-eyed. At sixteen, Helena was wearing adult gowns but had yet to come out into society. Like Tam she had mid-brown straight hair and mid-blue eyes. Forgettable in the extreme.
“What’s happening?” Tam removed her outdoor garments, already thinking about changing for the party. Her mother had bought a red dress for Tam that had a particularly low decolletage. Perhaps she’d wear it. The Duke of Newton always noticed when she wore… But no. She didn’t care for his attention, even if he always seemed to seek her out on Christmas Eve.