“Because it was annoying, especially because you never bothered to explain to me why you were declining my offer. I thought you were being arrogant.”
“Arrogant?”
Stanley nodded. “You’ve never been keen to accept advice or assistance from anyone, which I’ve always thought was driven by intellectual arrogance.”
“Huh” was all Norman could think to respond to that as truth suddenly hit him from out of nowhere. “I do wish I could deny that, but I’m afraid you’re right, which means I owe you an apology for being arrogant as well as for annoying you.”
“Should I take that as an apology for all the times you’ve annoyed me?”
Norman blinked. “I’ve annoyed you often?”
“You’re my younger brother, Norman. Of course you’ve annoyed me often.”
“Would you find me less annoying if I offer to make some investments on your behalf? I seem to be more than adept at increasing fortunes.”
“There really is something dreadfully wrong with you, isn’t there?”
“Nothing is wrong with me.”
Stanley ignored that. “Have you blown something up recently and suffered a concussed head?”
“I haven’t blown up anything for a few months now, having set aside some of my more volatile experiments after Theo lost a great deal of her hair and part of an eyebrow when an experiment went rather wrong.”
“What could you have possibly been doing that caused Theodosia to lose her hair and an eyebrow?”
“We were trying to improve upon Ludwig Boltzmann’s theory about statistical derivations of physical and chemical concepts, especially entropy and the distribution of molecular velocities in the gas phase, which . . .” Norman trailed off when he noticed his brother looking a bit glassy-eyed. “But forgive me. I’ve recently been told I come across as a complete bore when I start pontificating on my experiments or research. Allow me to say that our experiment involved gas, but we misjudged the heat we were using, and it, well, blew up, taking Theo’s hair with it.”
Stanley sat forward. “Someone actually told you that you’re a bore?”
“In great detail.”
The corners of Stanley’s lips twitched. “I don’t imagine anyone has ever told you that before.”
“It was a novel experience, but upon further reflection, I came to the realization that I am a bore at times. That point was further driven home when I was reading The Gentlemen’s Book of Etiquette and Manual of Politeness by Cecil B. Hartley. He wrote, and I’m paraphrasing here, that a gentleman must never speak of his own business or profession, because to confine the conversation to the subject or pursuit of one’s own specialty is considered vulgar.”
“You’ve read a book on gentlemen’s etiquette?”
“I’ve read several, all of which seem to agree that a gentleman should not flaunt his intelligence and instead adopt a more modest air, which will allow those around him to feel free to converse about any number of subjects without fearing their own intellects may be thrown into question.”
Stanley regarded Norman for a long moment, an odd look in his eyes, before he picked up a pen and began twirling it around. “You reading etiquette books can only mean one thing. . . . You’ve finally decided to court Theodosia.”
“What?”
“Theodosia. You’ve finally realized her worth and have decided to court her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Theo and I will never be anything other than friends.”
Stanley blinked. “But I thought . . .”
“You thought what?” Norman pressed when Stanley stopped talking.
“I thought the two of you would eventually settle down together because she’s the only woman you ever spend any time with.”
“Theo and I are far too similar to ever want to settle down together.” Norman caught his brother’s eye. “But why are you asking about my relationship with Theo?”
Something odd once again flickered through Stanley’s eyes before he smiled and shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be interested in my brother’s friends?”
“I find your interest rather curious.”
Stanley waved that aside. “It’s not curious at all, but speaking of curious, I’m curious as to whether or not you’re taking Theodosia to the Palmer ball.”
“She’s going with Harvey Cabot.”
“Harvey Cabot?” Stanley got up from his chair and started pacing around the room. “He’s a bounder of the worst sort, flitting from one lady to another with little thought to the trail of broken hearts he leaves behind. Why would Theodosia want to go to the ball with him?”
“I believe because he asked her. Her father threw his full support behind the invitation.”
“Harvey’s a lazy, spoiled man who lacks ambition and—” Stanley stopped walking and peered at Norman. “Do you think Theodosia holds Harvey in high regard?”
“I think she may have been flattered that he was showing an interest in her, until she witnessed him behaving rudely to Beatrix at Marshall Field & Company the other day.”
The moment he realized he’d spoken Beatrix’s name out loud, Norman knew he’d made a grave mistake because Stanley’s gaze sharpened on him and he immediately pulled a chair directly in front of Norman and sat down. Fifteen minutes later, after one of the most intense interrogations Norman could remember, Stanley leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
“So let me see if I have this correct. You and Theo have taken it upon yourselves to research how to impress a lady through fashion magazines and etiquette books?”
“We have, and I have to say, I’ve been rather surprised with how much information is out there about the matter. Some of it is very insightful.”
Stanley frowned. “And has that Mort you mentioned earlier been helping you with this research project as well?”
“I haven’t had an opportunity yet to see if Mort will be beneficial to the project or not.”
“You’re going to have to explain that more sufficiently.”
Norman smiled. “I suppose that was rather vague. But you see, Mort, I’m sure you’ll be surprised to hear, isn’t a gentleman. He’s more along the lines of a noble steed.”
“You’ve purchased a horse?”
“Mort’s a mule.”
Stanley blinked. “I don’t believe I’ve ever
