Chapters (46)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Back Cover
“My wife, a wise woman.” He gave a curt nod of approval. “Shall we?” He stepped from the carriage onto the cobbled stone of St. Andrew’s Street. The white stone buildings lined the walk where people bustled by, likely on the way to a lecture or the library.
Rowles offered his hand to Joan; she took it and stepped down. Her hat was askew, so he tipped it slightly for her, gently so as not to tug too much on the pins holding it in place.
“Thank you,” Joan offered, her skin highlighted by the pale green of her day dress that made her green eyes seem more emerald than usual.
“You’re beautiful.” Rowles kissed her hand before placing it on his arm.
“You’re quite handsome yourself,” she replied.
Rowles laughed. “This will be the quickest tour in the history of all of Cambridge.” He led them down the street. “To distract myself from you, I’m going to explain a little history about Christ’s College.”
“I do love learning from you.”
Rowles turned to her. “I suggest you pay attention since this will be the only time I’m letting you out of our bedroom for the rest of the trip.”
Joan made a show of closing her lips and nodding.
“Very well.” Rowles sighed, trying to collect his wayward thoughts. “So, Christ’s College is one of the many constituent colleges of Cambridge University. It was established as ‘God’s House’ by William Byngham in 1437. Later, its name was changed to Christ’s College. It houses several different buildings, all with different specialties, and has its own choir, like many other of Cambridge’s colleges.”
“Fascinating. I’ve heard much about it,” Joan noted, looking over the buildings and the lawn between them.
“Here’s the Great Gate.” Rowles gestured to the wide break in the white stone buildings lining St. Andrew’s Street. “Inside is First Court, a well-known garden area.” He paused before the gate and watched Joan’s reaction.
Wonder and excitement filtered through her expression. “Is this where you taught?”
“Yes, would you like to see the room? I can take you through the old chapel as well.”
Joan watched him with her wide green eyes. “I’d love to see it.”
Rowles led her through First Court, along the gravel path so as not to disturb the grass. They took the northwest entrance to the chapel. “And to the right is the Master’s Lodge, and directly behind us is the Mountbatten Room where smaller conferences and the like are held.” He gestured to the side and behind him, then stepped aside for a few people to pass before opening the door to the chapel for Joan.