Chapter 6: There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.

When Edmund had been receiving his schooling at St Bartholomew’s before his deployment, they’d had a professor hated by everyone.

The man is an absolute genius. In fact, more than once during study sessions in the library, Edmund had entertained conversations with his classmates about offing old Bergman-Collier just to have the opportunity to dissect his brain. Figure out how he knows it all!

He was hated because, despite being an era-defining genius beyond the likes of Sir Isaac Newton, he could not teach for sh*t. All of that knowledge, skill, talent, clear and logical reasoning – stuck inside his head because no matter which way he approached his lessons, he could never convey anything even in the gist of being helpful.

By second semester of their first year, not a student in their class had even a hope in hell of passing Bergman-Collier’s subject.

Something had to be done.

The old goat had a penchant for young, scrappy, bright secretaries. So, one Wednesday afternoon, which was widely known to be the time Bergman-Collier went to row and then had tea with some of his peers, Edmund and two of his friends, Rex and Victor, made their way up to his office.

It was decided that Edmund would be the one to charm the secretary since, to quote Rex, “Someone as pretty as you, Ed, has no business being clever and personable, too. It just ain’t natural! We might as well then put it to some use.”

Well, her name was Wendy and she was lovely. They actually went on two dates before Edmund learned she was engaged and her fiancé tried to beat him to a bloody pulp outside a cinema one night.

The boys, on the other hand, got their hands on Bergman-Collier’s lesson plans for the rest of the semester. Victor, the talented sod, copied it all down in record time, and they put the file back before anyone had noticed its absence.

All this being said, Edmund often finds himself wishing he had some secret way of decoding Aures Wynne’s thoughts, the way they did with their old professor. She never talks about anything besides her ‘work’, and even that isn’t a frequent occurrence as she reckons, and rightly so, that she need not share her knowledge as Edmund has it all already.

There also is not a price in the world to pay for her to discuss other people. She finds mundane conversation expressly uninteresting, and when asked about her family or even the farmers whose cattle she services, she either flat-out ignores the question or makes a face mixed evenly between boredom and disgust.

If not suffering some rare and grotesque malady, other human beings simply do not exist to Aures.

Which makes it damn near impossible for Edmund to get anything out of her about her older brother.

“You didn’t mention Aidan is a dancer,” he says, helping her perform a check-up on a pregnant ewe.

With a huff and a blow of a curl off her forehead, she responds, “Don’t see why I would have.”

Edmund gives this a moment’s thought, trying to put himself into her headspace. “Well, I’m his primary care-giver, correct? Wouldn’t it then stand to reason that I know as many physical details about him as possible, in order to provide the most effective care?”

She sits back from the ewe a moment, staring at him, her brow furrowed. But only for a moment, before shaking herself and returning to her work.

“An oversight on my part. Apologies.”

“No need,” Edmund replies, choosing his next words carefully. “Though, I don’t know whether the narcotics abuse is to blame or if he just has an unusually high metabolism, but at the rate his body is deteriorating at present, he won’t be able to dance much longer.”

He can only hope his concern lands as genuinely as he intends. As much as Edmund envies Aures’ strong academic detachment, he can’t seem to maintain that with Aidan. The man is a mystery, but one seemingly ripe for solving.

“Only Aidan ever knows what is amiss with Aidan,” Aures deflects, standing.

She removes her gloves and then reaches back to refasten her hair.

That’s not the answer towards which Edmund has been angling. “Well, then, perhaps you could shed some light on his mental state? Why would he not disclose something that could potentially make him better?”

For this question, he gets a squint and arms crossed off solidly in front of her chest.

“Dr Bolton, you are a man of medical science. Surely, you need not have a soldier with his leg blown off recount the harrowing tale before you treat him? If it is further equipment or examination you require, my laboratory is at your disposal, and my brother will comply with any demand that can lead to his escape from this wretched island.

“If, however, you are asking out of a more personal curiosity, I am not a silly person who sits around at garden parties, gossiping about pairings and planning matchmaking excursions. As long as Aidan’s private matters do not impact me, I am more than content with not knowing anything about them.

“Now, may we complete our rounds, or would you like to style my hair while we discuss our colours?”

This effectively shuts Edmund up. He grants her a mere nod before they both file out of the barn and head for the next farm.

Upon their return that evening, however, Edmund catches sight of Aidan, sitting in the sill of the bay window in his room. As usual, he has a book in his hand, but his face is upturned to track Aures and Edmund’s progress across the yard.

Thoughtlessly, Edmund smiles at the way Aidan’s usually unruly dark hair sticks up around his face. When Aidan smiles back, however, the tightness in Edmund’s chest from their midnight stroll returns, and he finds himself wondering if Wendy really had been the last person he’d been so quick to smile for.