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were completed. “Yes, there are other female natural philosophers and chemists. Not many, I grant, but some have made significant discoveries. I’m not really one of these ladies though, since my father designs the experiments. I study his books in hopes of one day learning the scholarship necessary to plan them. Besides, females are normally expected to assist men of science or instruct others upon scientific principles. For example, one of my great inspirations is the famous author Mrs. Marcet. Have you heard of her?”
    â€œNo, is she a member of the ton ? Would I find her at Court or Almack’s?”
    The mental picture of the brilliant Mrs. Marcet conversing with the illustrious toadeaters at Almack’s elicited a chuckle.
    â€œWait. Give me a chance. The Royal Society of London?”
    â€œA good guess, but no. Mrs. Marcet is a wife, mother, and inspiration to all who study science—not just women. I am sure every young person interested in chemistry or natural philosophy is reading her books now. In the future, I’ll wager one of her students will become the world’s greatest chemist. That is how influential her books are.”
    â€œBooks.” He rubbed his chin. “I publish books. Learned all about the editing business at my brother’s publishing house. Found it a great deal of fun. In five years, I’ve published all sorts of books, comedies, handbooks, songs. I first published a book written by two of my old school friends and even wrote one myself. Although my father was not pleased…” He paused. “No, he was not pleased.”
    â€œReally? What is the title of your book? Maybe I have read it.”
    He was no longer looking at her directly. “No, no, I am sure you have not. Just a limited distribution of a small tome of comical songs.”
    â€œI like songs.”
    â€œUm, songs for gents.”
    â€œOh.”
    His cheeks sported a rosy blush, a lovely contrast to the shadow of dark whiskers. “Continue. Tell me about our clever wife and mother. Maybe I’ve read her books.”
    â€œBecause she is a woman, she originally published her books anonymously, but now she is recognized as the author of my favorite book, titled Conversations on Chemistry . Have you read it?”
    The Tulip tugged on his cravat. “Well, no. It doesn’t sound like a page-turner. What’s the book about? Are there knights a jousting?” He leaned close and whispered, “A lady reclining on a pile of skulls hears a noise behind her. What could it be?”
    â€œOh.” His vivid imagination made her stare at his dark whisker growth—not a beard, more like a roughness that demanded experimental touch—and she wanted to touch. She glared at him for having such an alluring chin. “Mrs. Marcet’s book is a hypothetical conversation between a teacher, named Mrs. B., and two students, Emily and Caroline. The girls pose basic questions many of us would ask, then Mrs. B. answers them. A simple format that proves to be an effective instructional tool, in fact—”
    â€œYes, yes. Let’s get to it.” He grabbed the cage with a crow inside.
    Why did he ask the question if he didn’t want to hear the answer? She dug through the wooden chest, looking for a pencil, mumbling, “In some animal societies, they abandon males at birth.”
    â€œPardon?”
    She grabbed the pencil then faced him. “Your society is delightful because of your mirth.”
    He widened those striking green eyes. “I might have deserved that.”
    She laughed and then realized it was her first laughter of the day.
    â€œBut you must forgive me,” he said. “I truly am excited about starting.”
    Actually, with all of the preparations and tension that normally came with making the arrangements for a flight, this was the first time she had laughed all week. “I’m sorry. I too am excited to begin. Now