A Sense of Sin by Essex Elizabeth

Author:Essex, Elizabeth
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2011-03-11T05:00:00+00:00

It had become imperative Celia sell her drawings for a book. Even if, because she had no text to accompany the illustrations, she had to sell the drawings to a Fellow of the Royal Society, so he could publish his own book with her illustrations. Or perhaps she should be offering, for a fee, her service in making the drawings. Sir James Edward Smith had had his illustrations for English Botany made by Mr. Sowerby of the Linnaean Society. She ought to be able to find an arrangement similar to that.

Thus, the day was more important than ever. She dressed plainly, in her best redingote, to help combat the clammy grip of her awkwardness, the panicky feeling of shyness beginning to worm its way into her belly at the thought of speaking before so many people. Not that she knew how many people were likely to come to the colloquium, but if she did well, and impressed the assembled scholars, she might be able to find her way out of this nightmare. She might be able to pay Viscount Darling off and be done.

Lord, she had no time for the mixture of disappointment, regret, and anxiety at the mere thought of him. She would get over him. She would conquer this seemingly insurmountable difficulty, if she would but concentrate on one step at a time. First things first.

She and Bains took the Widcombe carriage as far as Beaufort Buildings, and got out to walk the rest of the way. Bains had picked up Celia’s unease and could see her hesitation as they turned through the gates of Somerset House into the vast courtyard.

“I don’t like it, miss. You do this, you go in there and talk all official like and you’re sure to blow the gab. Your lady mother’ll have it in her ears in no time.”

“I know.” Celia let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “But I’ve no choice. Not that I want one. I want to do this, Bains. I want to be a renowned, published botanist, and this is what it’s going to take, mother or no mother.”

She tucked her head down and walked on resolutely. She would be resolute. She was even going to be daring.

The gray stone of the steps appeared before her eyes too quickly. She was there. It was time. There seemed to be an awful lot of people—men—brushing past, turning her this way and that, coattails flying by. She clutched her portfolio tighter.

“May I be of some assistance?” A soberly dressed porter stood next to his dais.

Celia took a deep breath. “I am here to take part in a colloquium on the merits of plant classification systems.”

“Ah, Miss Burke?”

“Yes, Miss Celia Burke.”

“Yes, Miss Burke, it is an honor. I’ve been expecting you. Welcome to the Royal Society.” He bowed to her. “Right this way, please.”

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