Gareth could sympathize with the boy. Art often made him uncomfortable with too much emotionalism, or inexplicable tangents and lack of uniformity or logic. But machinery? Even something as simple as a toy? There was a certain type of poetry in things that worked. And numbers? Well, there was something about the precision and beauty of mathematics that made his soul—if humans indeed possessed such a thing—sing.

“I have always found patterns—mathematical patterns—in even the most mundane of things. They existed before I could understand them. And when I was exposed to my first lesson in the simplicity and power of numbers, I knew I would need to keep seeking until I could know the whole of it.” He paused, considering his foolish words. “Of course the more you learn the more you realize that is not possible.” He could not recall the last time he’d spoken so much to a stranger. Luckily, Mrs. Lombard did not seem to find his words odd.

“That is how you were able to look at the drawing and know there was a problem, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, if the drawing is properly to scale.”

She nodded, her eyes wandering back to her plans.

“Do you have a tutor for your son?” That was a question that had not come from his list, either.

“Not yet. I have been teaching him myself, but I have reached the end of what I can offer when it comes to many subjects. He is of an age where he should go off to school, but that is not,” she hesitated, “possible.”

Gareth wondered why that was. Money? Emotional attachment? Naturally he did not ask.

“He will meet us at the stables after finishing his breakfast in the schoolroom. I’ve told him this is not a holiday, but an opportunity to learn. I believe he will greatly appreciate the calculations that go into building a dam. Besides,” she smiled, “he was delirious with joy when he heard there was a horse waiting for him.”

Gareth looked down at his plate, his stomach tight. He was glad to have pleased the boy—he had liked his quiet, thoughtful way immediately. But he did not wish to be the recipient of effusive gratitude from either Oliver or his mother.