Page 23 of One Bed for the Bluestocking
“Say.”Andrew squinted and looked around.“Whatever happened to Professor Kerr?”
“Drat!”Nat shot to his feet.“He said he was going to use the necessary.He shouldn’t have been gone this long.”
“Knowing our luck, he probably fell in.”Andrew clapped Nat on the shoulder.“Last one there has to fish him out!”
Nat laughed.“Considering you’re covering my lectures for the next month and a half, I should probably be the one to fish him out, regardless.”He paused, looking Andrew in the eye.“Truly, thank you.”
Andrew shrugged.“I’m glad to do it.Now come on—let’s go rescue Professor Kerr.”
Fortunately, Professor Kerr had not fallen into the latrine.
Unfortunately, he had bumped into some fellow professors, with whom he had apparently enjoyed an undetermined number of additional pints.
“Nathaniel!”he exclaimed upon seeing them.“Andrew!Thereyou two are!”He waved drunkenly toward his companions.“Hendrickson here and his colleagues from the medical school think they can take us in a game of skittles.I told them not a chance!What do you say, shall we give them a proper thrashing?”
“Not me,” Andrew said, his demurral softened by the amusement in his voice.“I can scarcely see the pins.”
“Let’s go,” Professor Kerr slurred, looping an arm through each of theirs and leading them toward the courtyard.
Outside, Andrew performed better than he had predicted.At least he could roll the ball in the general direction of the pins, which was more than could be said for Professor Kerr.
“How did I do?”Andrew asked after making his last throw.
“Not bad at all,” Nat replied.“Four pins.”
Andrew laughed.“Huzzah!”
It didn’t much matter.They were hopelessly behind, as Professor Kerr had only managed to knock down one pin during the entire course of the match.But Nathaniel managed to convert a tricky split on his last throw, which earned him a cheer from the crowd and salvaged a little pride for the Natural Historians.
Professor Kerr, who had drained two more pints during the course of the competition, slapped Nat on the back.The motion threw him off balance, and he grabbed Nat’s arm as he swayed on his feet.“Excellent throw,” he slurred.“S-s-simply excellent.”
Nat slung an arm around his shoulders, hoping it looked chummy rather than as if he did not believe his supervisor was capable of crossing the courtyard without keeling over.“Wasn’t that fun?Well, it’s getting late.Perhaps we should?—”
“Have another drink!”Professor Kerr exclaimed.“Just the thing.”
Andrew caught Nat’s eye over Professor Kerr’s head, his expression commiserating.“How about some food?Nathaniel and I sampled the soup earlier, and it was very good.”
“An excellent suggestion.”Nat gestured toward the door.“Come, let’s see if we can find a table and?—”
“Boys.”Professor Kerr drew to a halt, his expression not sober, perhaps, but somber.
Nat shot Andrew an incredulous look.Boys?He and Andrew were both on the far side of five-and-twenty.Andrew arched an eyebrow, and Nat had to smother a laugh.
“Boys,” Professor Kerr repeated, apparently having missed their silent exchange, “there’s something I need to tell you.I’m tired.So very tired.”
Nathaniel seized upon this opening.“Allow me to summon a hackney carriage.We’ll have you home in a trice.”
The professor drew back, surprised.“Not like that.I mean to have…” He paused, making a garbled sound, his expression suggesting that the mere act of thinking was painful.“A few more drinks.”He looked from Nat to Andrew.“What I mean is that I’m weary.Weary of it all!”
“I see,” Nat said, even though he did not.
Professor Kerr cast his eyes toward the sky.“After all these years of teaching, I think I’ve earned my rest.”He lowered his gaze to stare at them each in turn.“Which is why I intend to resign the Natural History Chair at the end of this term.”
Nathaniel couldn’t move.Couldn’t breathe.The Natural History Chair was about to be open!This was an event, anopportunity, that he couldn’t expect to come around more than once or twice in his lifetime.His one and only chance to establish himself in a proper career.
To feel like he wasn’t the family failure.
He’d thought he would have a few more years to prepare, to establish an extensive record of first-rate research.
