philosophy scholar, then had taught at the college for five years, before taking himself, and several works purloined from the library, off to the college next door, the arch rivals of St. Bride’s.
He’d then published a series of papers, all of which were said to be plagiarised from his students’ work although no one had been
able to prove it.
He has persuaded the vice chancellor…
“Sheer nepotism, the man’s his godfather.” Orlando snorted,
sending several sheets of paper flying in his anger.
… to coerce Lemuel into letting him have a look at these
documents, him being a historian— they could almost see the hatred written into the word— and an alleged expert on the
period. Lemuel refused outright at first, but has been pressured into complying, assuming that you can’t find a solution. You have until the start of the Lent term and then, should you have failed, Owens is to be allowed to infect the original documents with his slimy fingers.
She had finished the letter with the words your dear, but
outraged, friend, Ariadne Peters . Under the name was a tiny mark which Jonty was convinced was a kiss and over which he and
www.lindenbayromance.com 51
Charlie Cochrane
Orlando argued for ten minutes, the other man being sure it was a blot.
The new papers fell into two categories: coded texts which
Orlando had gleefully taken hold of to work on, and some letters addressed to, and received from, one Johan Breton. These Jonty
was delighted to plough through. As he’d re-familiarised himself with the case, among the names of the great and good and
powerful—not necessarily the same people in each case—he’d
come across this young friend of the Woodville Ward. There had
been just one mention of Breton in the summary document, an
occasion when he, Shaa and one Isaac Gaveson had got
themselves into hot water with the college authorities for
associating with ladies of a lewd nature. The idea of that had
tickled Jonty’s imagination, although he had never knowingly associated with such women himself.
Only one other document had referred to Breton. The writer
had found out that the man had been a local lad who must have
shared his friend’s desire to go to sea. Breton had subsequently served ten years aboard a ship, presumably associating with a few more lewd women along the way, then returned, marrying a local
lass, and living to a respectable old age. He was buried up at
Swavesey.
To find letters from Shaa himself, along with Breton’s
replies, was a real bonus. Jonty had no great hopes that they
would shed any light on the case and on his first reading of them this seemed to be vindicated. They were full of tittle-tattle and gossip, with some personal outpourings of feeling, but nothing
new was revealed. Shaa spoke often of his sea longing, of how his studies in astronomy only further enhanced his wish to travel and to make something of himself on his own terms. He voiced his
frustrations in being cooped up at “Elizabeth Hall”, as he referred to it, dropping the “Queen”. His fondness for Breton shone
through the pages, although Jonty recognised that it wasn’t the
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Lessons in Discovery
same sort of fondness he felt for Orlando; there was too much
mention of the lewd women, and some of their more respectable
counterparts, for that. Gaveson was also referred to—he appeared to be another student, a none-too-welcome hanger-on to a happy
partnership.
It struck Jonty as odd that no one had tried to pin the
disappearance on Breton. Just about everybody else had been put
forward as a suspect by some author or other, even the queen
herself had been accused, the motive being that Shaa had turned
down her advances. Jonty reflected that with the references made to women in these newfound letters, he found it unlikely that Shaa would have turned down any reasonably young and fairly willing
female.
He considered the two mysteries he and
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