Page 97 of Dearest Beast
There was an odd choking sound from his sister-in-law. “Pardon me, there was dust in the carriage.” She tapped a hand to her chest.
“But your cousin Sofia enjoys Miss Teres’s company,” Roger reminded his children as he returned to the conversation.
“Really?” It was Michael who asked the question with a touch of skepticism.
“They’ve been acquainted with each other their whole lives,” Nina said with a hasty nod.
“Well, almost, as Sofia was born a year prior,” David amended. Roger balled his fist. What was the matter with his brother?
It was as if he didn’t approve—not that he approved of much. Butstill, at their ages, one would’ve thought he’d give him the courtesy of an honest discussion on the matter instead of attempting to undermine his well-orchestrated plan.
“She’s really going to marry Father?” Michael asked, his voice rather incredulous.
“Father is a man,” Fannie explained to him, her tone rather imperious. “They’re able to reproduce at a much older age than women, so they often seek younger mates.”
Roger’s mouth might have fallen open. His brother’s most certainly did.
Roger glanced at Rebecca, who was staring at the floor, her lips pressed tightly together and her face flushed, as if she was holding back laughter. His sister-in-law, though, he noted, was worse, barely containing her reaction.
Ridiculous. And while he would not have relayed matters in quite the way Fannie had—he’d need to speak to her about appropriate topics for public consumption—what his daughter said was true. Not to mention that many men of the ton married in their early thirties for the first time, while they considered women over twenty-five “on the shelf,” so if one thought about it, what he was doing was rather fashionable with the set who held their political fates in their hands, whether he liked it or not. Moreover, it would be no true deviation from their own customs. At least it was not against any of their laws and thus perfectly reasonable.
“I believe you shall find Miss Teres an excellent addition to the household if you give her a fair chance,” he told his children. “Can you do that for me?”
Glancing at each other first, they both nodded. It was not the most enthusiastic acquiescence, though it would do. Hopefully, they would be fair like they had been with Rebecca.
“Good.” He smiled. “Now go find Rachel and get ready for dinner,” he told them.
However, before they reached the staircase, Fannie paused and turned back. “Are you coming as well?” she asked Rebecca. “To dinner, I mean. Uncle David and Aunt Nina always have the best food. Not just on the Sabbath.”
Rebecca glanced first at Roger and then back at his daughter, her expression unreadable.
“I think it would be easier if I stayed here,” she told Fannie. “I might receive a call. But perhaps you’ll tell me about it when you return?”
Fannie pouted. “All right.” She turned and skipped out of the room, her brother at her heels.
“We should all get ready as well,” Nina said, rising. Lopez rushed forward with her and David’s coats. She turned to Rebecca. “I know you said you had patients to which to attend, but please, if you find yourself available, we would be honored to have you to our house again.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Berab,” Rebecca said. “But I think it’s important for such matters to involve only family. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find Lopez. He’d mentioned he had an update regarding the logistics of furnishing my family’s home.” With that, she turned and exited toward the back of the house.
“Behave yourself,” David whispered in Roger’s ear, then slipped out the door with his wife before Roger could tell them that he was the Berab they should worry about least in that regard.
Hours after the Berabs’ exit, Rebecca stood outside the door of Roger’s office. There were a hundred better things she could be doing with her time rather than dithering, and yet here she was, unable to either raise her fist and knock or leave. “Coward,” she murmured to herself. This was ridiculous. She’d never been afraid to say what needed to be said, and now was certainly not the time to change.
Becauseshehad not changed these past weeks. Yes, she’d altered or softened a few opinions, but she was still the same person she’d been when she arrived, albeit with more garments only suitable for holidays, new spectacles, and some lingering pain in her arm.
She would always be who she was: someone whose home was on Mitre Street, not here, which was why she needed to just… Taking a deep breath, she rapped on the wood.
“Come in,” a now familiar voice called from inside, making her traitorous heart flutter. Metaphorically, naturally, as if not she’d be quite nervous regarding the efficiency and state of the organ, as—Oh, do shut up and get in there, she admonished herself, pushing her way through the door to find the man coatless, though his cravat was still impeccably tied, yarmulke on his sandy-brown hair, poring over a large book.
He looked as handsome as ever—perhaps even more so, if it was possible.
“Ah, Rebecca.” He rose from his seat and came toward her, his arm outstretched. “I was hoping to find a time to get you alone today. I wanted to—” She dodged him. She could not permit his hand to glide over her body again and distract her. She was there for a purpose. One that could not be put off any long.
Moving over to the desk, she glanced down at what he’d been reading and started.
“Is that Talmud?” she asked, scanning the large folio with its layers of internal and external scripts, all their alphabet but with a decent portion nearly unrecognizable, ostensibly the special version of the letters for Rashi’s commentary, of which she’d heard but only seen once in passing.
“Yes,” Roger said. “I’ve been attempting to study on my own, but it’s a touch beyond my capacities, I’m afraid.” He ran a hand through his hair, nearly dislodging his yarmulke. “My Hebrew is rudimentary, and my Aramaic is far worse. I do have this French translation,” he told her, pointing to another volume, “But it was not done for us, so I don’t know its accuracy. Not to mention my medieval French is not as strong as my facility with the modern language.”
