“May I do something?” Rowan asked.
“In a moment.” They all watched as Jewel, looking very self-important, placed the mirror. Then Ford turned to Violet’s brother. “You get to do the crucial part.”
Rowan’s green eyes danced. “What’s that?”
“Move the pan around, and the mirror if necessary, until the sunlight reflecting off the mirror makes a patch of light on the wall.”
The walls in the attic were unvarnished wood. Rowan did as he was told, gasping when a bright rectangle appeared like magic.
“What, you didn’t believe it was possible?” Ford mussed the boy’s dark hair.
Rowan gave him a sheepish smile. “I just wasn’t sure I could do it.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to,” Ford told him. “Always remember that.”
Violet glanced up sharply at his echoing a belief she held rather dearly. He handed her the piece of paper. “Now, hold this so the patch of light shines directly on it.”
She did as he asked…and watched a brilliant range of colors bathe the white sheet.
“Holy Hades,” Rowan said.
Ford’s eyes met Violet’s. “Do you like it?”
“A rainbow,” she murmured.
“I told you I would make you one.”
Thrilled, she stared at the beautiful hues. “I thought you meant figuratively.”
“Now you can have rainbows without needing to prefer rain.”
She felt herself blush. “I never did really prefer rain.”
“I guessed that,” he said with a nice smile, and any embarrassment she might have felt at being caught in that lie was lost in the shared moment.
“Why does it work?” Rowan asked.
Ford turned to him, all scientist now. “The water sitting on top of the slanted glass is a wedge shape.” Violet suppressed a smile, watching as he gestured to each component. “When the sunlight bounces off the mirror, that wedge of water does the same thing a glass prism would. It’s called refraction. The prism refracts the sunlight and breaks it down into all the different colors of light.”
“May I try?” Jewel took the paper and held it away, then slipped it back in the beam of light.
The colors burst forth again.
“My turn.” Rowan tried it himself, beaming at the results. “What do you mean by colors of light? Isn’t all light white?”
“No. White light, like sunlight, is actually a combination of all the colors of light.” Ford’s language was simple although the concepts weren’t; he didn’t talk down to the children. “Isaac Newton presented this experiment at the Royal Society last year.”
Violet sighed. “I wish women were allowed to attend.”
“One was, once. Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle. But not as a member. She had written a book called Observations upon Experimental Philosophy, and she was allowed as a guest to observe some of our own experiments.”
She gave him a wan smile. “I don’t expect the Royal Society would be interested in any book I could write.”
He looked contemplative. “Not as a group, perhaps. They can be a snobbish lot. But individual members would certainly take an interest.” Rowan and Jewel began playing in the water, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Have you heard of John Locke?”
“No.” She pulled her brother’s hand from the pan. “Who is he?”
“A brilliant philosopher, although he has yet to publish any significant papers. You should meet him. Perhaps he could help you achieve your dream. His ideas are quite thought-provoking.” He rolled his eyes, then grinned. “I cannot believe I said that.”
“I cannot believe you said that, either.” Though he’d never voiced it in so many words, she’d suspected he was much too concrete and scientific to be drawn to philosophical musings.
When Rowan flicked droplets in Jewel’s face, she shrieked, but Ford only smiled at them absently. “The Royal Society is holding an event next week. A celebration, if you will.”
“What are they celebrating?” Violet asked, watching the girl pull a beaker off a shelf as Rowan turned away and became preoccupied by something on the cluttered table.
“Ever since the Great Fire when the City offices were temporarily set up at Gresham College, the Royal Society has been meeting at Arundel House instead.”
Only half her mind on Ford’s words, Violet saw Jewel scoop water from the pan, partially filling the beaker. He was oblivious, she thought. He could truly pay attention to only one thing at a time.
“But now that the Royal Exchange has reopened and the government moved out,” he continued, “we’ve been invited back. The college is throwing a grand entertainment to welcome us.”
With a victorious shout, the girl dumped the water on Rowan’s head.
“Jewel!” Ford gasped, finally responding at the sound of Rowan’s howl. He whirled to face her. “You must ask before you touch anything in here. That beaker could have had chemicals in it.”
He didn’t care that his niece had drenched Rowan’s hair and shirt, Violet thought. Only that she might have ruined an experiment.
“It was empty, Uncle Ford,” Jewel said.
Clearly struggling for calm, Ford dragged a hand through his hair. “Chemicals can dry and become invisible. And some can burn skin. Worse than fire.”
“Oh.” Jewel looked chagrined.
And Violet felt the same way, knowing she’d underestimated him.
“Are you burned?” Jewel asked Rowan. “You don’t look black.”
“He’d be red,” Ford said.
“I’m fine.” His hair still dripping wet, Rowan poked her in the stomach.
Violet opened her mouth to chide him, then decided the girl deserved it.
“I’m going to plan a prank on you,” he promised Jewel, ruining the menace of the threat with his high-pitched giggle.
“You’d best hurry.” Ford tossed him a towel. “She’s going home next week.”
“Home?” Rowan’s grin faded. “Can’t she just live here from now on?”
“I think her parents would have something to say about that.” Ford took the pan and leaned out the window to dump the remaining water. “I heard from my brother this morning. There have been no new measles cases the past week, so if matters there continue to improve, I’ll be taking Jewel home on my way to London for the Royal Society celebration.”
He paused for a moment, seeming
