Clara laughed, incredulous. “Why, yes! Please don’t tell me you’re oblivious to the certain beliefs that surround your type of upbringing. I mean no offense by this – truly – but were someone to show you a nude drawing, the assumption would very much be that you’d swoon on the spot.” She simpered. “I promise you, ‘interesting’ is not the word people use for my view of life.”
She glanced his way again, arching a brow. “I can assure you, Mr. Woodhull, that you are not the first, and undoubtedly won’t be the last man to use that line on me – though for what it’s worth I, too, find you interesting. It’s not every day I meet a rebellious preacher’s son at these dull parties.”
Clara searched her memory bank for a Mr. Monroe and came up short. “How very odd,” she said. “I was so sure I would know him…is he here, by chance?” Her eyes grew almost feline. “Because yes, perhaps I would like to interrogate him on your behalf. If he could shed some light on your secrets, it would be very much worth the effort…classmates tend to have rather loose lips.”
Applying pressure to his elbow, Clara encouraged, “Just remain quiet, for the time being – if Father speaks to you directly, that is a good sign.” She smirked up at him, then gently tugged until they were both standing alongside a tall, scarecrow-ish man with a powdered wig and sharp, beady little eyes beneath a pair of spectacles. He snorted through his bulbous nose while listening to one of his colleagues. “Father,” Clara entreated. “Father, would you mind taking a moment to meet my new friend?”
Jedediah Boyd’s eyes cut toward her, dark and shining with contempt. “Can you not see I am carrying on an important conversation?”
With her own gaze drifting toward the pompous braggart commanding the floor, she scoffed and replied, “Why yes, a conversation is certainly going on, but hardly one of importance. This…” She gestured. “Is Mr. Benjamin Woodhull. He hopes to be an attorney, as well.”
Jedediah looked Ben over with a cold, calculating eye. “Why are you not serving the Crown? You seem plenty able-bodied.”
“Oh, Father, surely men and women alike can serve the Crown in ways beyond war? He doesn’t need to be a soldier to do his part,” Clara replied. When he snorted, she nodded to Ben. “Go ahead, Mr. Woodhull. Tell him what you hope to do.”
Ben can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “Oh no, I’m well aware,” he says. “I would hope it would take slightly more than that to make me swoon. Oh?” He shakes his head. “I’ve often found that people’s judgments on my life can be well meaning in some respects but irritatingly close-minded. It’s the way of things, sometimes.”
He shrugs, smiling and taking a sip from his glass. “Doesn’t make it any less true,” he says. “Glad I could make your evening a little more interesting, then.”
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid I’m here in his place,” he says. “Odd fellow, really, but a good study partner.” He chuckles. “My secrets? I don’t think I’m keeping any secrets, am I? I’ve answered all your questions.” It brings a genuine smile to his face, even if it’s not for the reasons it would seem.
Ben nods. “Alright, I can manage that,” he says. This feels like a chaotic idea at best, but he lets Clara tug him along to her father’s side. He manages not to grimace, and to keep his expression even and neutral, and, he hopes, pleasant.
“Alas, sir, prior injury and the pursuit of knowledge at university have kept me from serving in active duty,” Ben says, inclining his head at Jedediah. “I’m hoping to find work as a lawyer once my education at the university is finished. If I can’t fight for the King’s law, I might as well do my best to enforce it.”
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