Katherine stared at Julia intently.

“I tried my best to discredit Miss Peterson this morning and I will continue to do so. But even if I fail, eventually everyone will move on to the latest scandal. By the time you have your own faculty position, the rumors will be forgotten.”

“That’s six years away, Professor.”

Professor Picton smiled. “Given what I’ve shared with you this evening, I think you should call me Katherine.”

“Thank you, Katherine.” Julia returned her smile shyly.

“You can help people forget the gossip by being excellent. If you prove yourself, all the gossip in the world can’t diminish it. It’s possible you’ll have to work harder than others, but I don’t think you’re bothered by hard work. Are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Good.” Katherine sat back in her chair. “My next piece of advice will be a little bit more difficult to hear.”

Julia braced herself for the words to come.

“You need to be more assertive, academically. I understand that it’s your nature to be shy and that you’d prefer to avoid confrontation. But in the academic arena, you cannot do that. When you deliver a paper and someone challenges you, you have to challenge him right back. You can’t sustain misguided or malicious criticisms, especially in public. Do you understand?”

“I don’t seem to have trouble speaking up in my seminars. Professor Marinelli has been pleased.”

“Good. My advice is to be yourself tomorrow. Be bright. Be excellent. And don’t let yourself be ravaged by wolves like some diseased moose.”

Julia’s eyes widened at the strange reference, but she said nothing.

“You mustn’t let your husband defend you, either. That will make you look weak. You need to defend yourself and your ideas if you’re going to be successful. Gabriel isn’t going to like that. But you must make him see that when he comes to your aid, he makes you look helpless, and that does more harm than good. Chivalry in academia is dead.”

Julia nodded a bit uncertainly.

Katherine finished her pint.

“Now, let’s see if Gabriel has managed to charm the old bastards of the Oxford Dante Society into forgetting what they might have heard this morning.” She winked. “For some of them, what they heard would only make him more appealing. I’m afraid your husband is far more interesting than any of them could have imagined.”

Gabriel spent his time apart from Julianne wisely. He visited with old friends and new acquaintances at the King’s Arms pub, putting his silver tongue to good use. By the end of the hour, he’d succeeded in giving a half a dozen Dante specialists reason to think that Christa Peterson was a jealous ex-student and that he and Julia were the victims of slander.

So it was with a markedly improved mood that he joined Professor Picton and Julia for dinner. Katherine spoke fluidly as the wine flowed, while Gabriel kept up his end of the conversation.

Julia was quiet, even more so than usual, her large eyes tired. She merely picked at her dinner and couldn’t even be tempted by dessert. It was clear that the events of the day had caught up with her.

When she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, Katherine gave Gabriel a concerned look.

“She needs rest. The poor girl is worn out.”

“Yes.” Gabriel’s expression was thoughtful, but he didn’t comment further.

Katherine nodded at his empty wine glass. “You’ve stopped drinking.”

“I have.” He offered her a patient smile.

“Not a bad idea. I go through periods of teetotaling myself.” She wiped her lips with her napkin. “Will you accept some maternal advice, from someone who is not your mother?”

Gabriel turned to her abruptly. “About what?”

“I worry sometimes about your ability to handle your detractors. Especially now that you’re married.”

He started to disagree but she interrupted.

“I’m old, I can behave how I wish. But you cannot be Julianne’s champion at academic conferences. If you rise to her defense, you’ll make her look weak.”

Gabriel folded his napkin and placed it on the table. “The incident this morning with Christa Peterson was anomalous. She tried to destroy our careers.”

“Just so. But even in that case, I’m afraid you did more harm than good.”

Gabriel frowned, and Katherine decided to change tactics.

“We’ve been good friends, you and I. I’d like to think that if I’d had a son, he would be your equal in intelligence and talent.”

His expression softened. “Thank you, Katherine. Your friendship is important to me.”

“I’ve given Julianne some advice. No doubt she’ll tell you all about our conversation. But before she returns, I’d ask that you consider what I’ve just said. She’s a nice young woman and very bright. Let her brightness shine.”

“That’s all I want.” He looked down at his hands. His eyes were drawn to the way the light caught on his wedding band, and he found himself staring at it.

“Good.” Katherine tapped her finger on the table, as if to signal that the matter had been decided. “Now, I hope I’ll be invited to dinner at your house when I give my lecture series at Harvard in January. Greg Matthews always takes me to these appalling molecular gastronomy restaurants that serve you deconstructed entrées cooked in liquid nitrogen. I can never decide whether I’m having dinner or sitting for an exam in organic chemistry.”

After dinner, Gabriel insisted that they escort Katherine to her residence at All Souls, where they bade one another good night and agreed to meet for breakfast the following morning.

“Eight thirty, sharp.” Katherine tapped her wristwatch. “Don’t be late.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it.” Gabriel bowed.

“See that you don’t.” With a wave, she disappeared behind the great wooden door of the college, which closed behind her.

Left standing together, Gabriel took Julia’s hand, noticing that her fingers had grown cold. He tried to warm them, touching her wedding band and engagement ring.

“I know that you’re tired,” he said. “But I want to show you something. It will just take a minute.”

He led her around the corner to Radcliffe Camera, a great, circular building that had become an icon of the university. The sky was dark, moonless, but a few lights illuminated the impressive structure.




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