Read Online Back To School Murder #4 by Leslie Meier - Free Book Online

was to meet, she felt as if she was entering exciting new territory. It was still quite light, but there was a sense of peaceful calm on the campus. One or two students bicycled past her on the walk, while a few small groups were scattered about on the grassy quad, sitting and chatting. From the open window of a dorm she heard snatches of a rock song.
    Maybe this is what it’s like for an American to visit England, she thought. You know the language, you know the customs, but it’s not your native country. What did these students think of her as they passed? Did they think of her at all? Did she look ridiculously old?
    She was dressed much the same as many of the female students in jeans and sneakers, with a light corduroy jacket against the evening chill. A few of the boys seemed to show a bit of interest when they noticed her, walking a bit taller and looking at her as they approached on the walk. But when she was close enough for their eyes to meet, and for them to see her age, they quickly looked away. So much for the theory that young men find older women attractive, she thought.
    When she reached her classroom, however, she felt more at home. The students were a mixed bag—a few undergraduates, a handful of senior citizens, and the rest in their late thirties or early forties. Middle-aged, middle managers, middle class—they had the hopeful look of people who were feeling the squeeze and were determined to do something about it.
    Lucy slipped into one of the seats with an oversized arm for note taking, smiled at the familiar-looking woman next to her, and waited for class to begin. She didn’t have long to wait. At a few minutes past seven the professor strolled in.
    Quentin Rea, as he was listed in the course catalog, was not a tall man. He was slight and wiry. But when he removed his Harris tweed jacket, Lucy noticed he was nicely muscled across his shoulders and back. She guessed he was a bit younger than herself—there was no trace of gray in his hair, which he wore rather long. It was light brown, streaked with blond, and he had a habit of tossing it back. His face was lean, and like some fair men, his beard was surprising heavy. Lucy was willing to bet there was a luxurious growth of hair on the chest beneath that pale blue Oxford cloth shirt.
    Ashamed of herself because she was not in the habit of mentally undressing men, however attractive they might be, she turned her head away and met the eye of the woman next to her.
    â€œDishy, don’t you think?” said the woman.
    â€œI don’t think I will have any trouble paying attention,” said Lucy, with a wink.
    â€œAll right,” began Professor Rea, after taking the roll. “Why the Victorians? Everybody used to think they were hopelessly dusty and musty, and all of a sudden they’re popular again. Any ideas?”
    An older man in the back of the room raised his hand, and the professor nodded at him.
    â€œI read somewhere and it struck me at the time that we have all been influenced by the Victorians. A lot of our ideas and manners, even the way we celebrate Christmas, have been passed down to us from the Victorians. Most of us know people who grew up in that period.”
    Lucy nodded, thinking of her friend Miss Tilley, the retired librarian of the Broadbrooks Free Library. Only Miss Tilley’s very dearest friends dared address her by her first name, Julia. She was certainly the living embodiment of Victorian ideas and notions.
    â€œIt was the beginning of the modern age—railroads, electric light, telegraph—they were all invented then. Industrialization was in full swing,” offered another man.
    â€œIt was a time when roles were changing,” Lucy found herself saying. “Then it was the industrial revolution, today it’s the information age. The Victorians had to adjust to a new way of living, just like we do.”
    The professor nodded in agreement. “All true, all true.