The Strangely Beautiful Tale Of Miss Percy Parker by Leanna Renee Hieber Page B

gods of logic sat books on ghosts, possession, exorcism, mesmerism, witchcraft, demons, angels and all manner of unexplained phenomena.
    “Fascinating,” Percy couldn’t help but murmur.
    “Hmm?”
    “Oh!” Percy started, whirling around to find the professor standing close. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, sir.”
    “What are you—?” The professor looked up briefly from the book through which he was flipping. “Ah. I see you have found my particular collection on the occult.” He returned to the contents of his tome as he walked back toward his desk.
    “Yes,” Percy breathed in wonder. “I assumed that, as a man of science, you would discount such things.”
    “There are many types of science, Miss Parker,” was the professor’s sharp reply.
    “Quite right,” Percy agreed. “Quite right indeed.” She glanced at the shelf below, which was filled with books on the mythologies of manifold cultures. “Ah.” She smiled, spotting a popular modern volume, which she retrieved. “Dear Bulfinch. I rather say he had me inventing my own myths at an early age. I’ll never forget when Reverend Mother brought a copy from the city. I must have read it a hundred times.” Percy felt a glow of pleasure, her true, passionate nature sneaking past her timidity. But when she stole a glance at Professor Rychman, he was staring at her with impatience.
    She looked away. “I’m sorry, Professor, I do not mean to prattle on—”
    “Bring the volume with you if you must, Miss Parker, but take your seat. We’re well into our time.”
    “Yes, sir.” Percy hurried to her chair, the book still in her grasp.
    The professor glanced at the copy of The Age of Fable clutched in her hands and admitted, “I always found the ancient religions far more entertaining than England’s sober Christianity.”
    Percy raised an eyebrow, surprised by such a personal comment. “Do you not consider yourself a Christian, Professor?”
    He regarded her for a moment. “Forgive me, Miss Parker. I forget I speak to one who was convent educated. Worry not for my soul. I am…a man of spirit.”
    “Of course, Professor.” And Percy nodded, compelled by the fact she had similarly described herself to the headmistress.
    Her teacher continued to stare at her. “Perhaps you consider your faith of stronger mettle, Miss Parker, having been raised as you were?”
    Percy had not expected to be asked further questions on the topic, especially not such a private one, having just been reminded it was past time for their lesson. “Well, to be quite honest,” she began awkwardly, “and I hope the Lord will forgive me for saying so, but I have seen so many strange things that I do not know exactly what to believe. Raised as I was, sir, aspects of the Christian faith fascinate me, but I feel so much is left unexplained…”
    “Indeed,” the professor replied. He opened his mouth as if to continue along this course of discussion but at last seemed to think better of it. “No matter. We stray from the subject at hand. You are here for a mathematical tutorial, after all.”
    “My apologies, Professor.”
    “No need for apologies,” he replied. “I was the one asking the questions.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “And there’s no need to thank me!” the professor snapped.
    “I’m sorry—Oh dear!” Percy murmured, biting her lip and yearning to retreat into her corset. Two ghosts at eitherend of the room had stopped swaying and turned to evaluate her. It would seem they were laughing.
    Professor Rychman chuckled, himself. However, though the noise indicated amusement, no such sentiment was reflected upon his face. “Miss Parker, you’ll never learn from me if you fear speaking incorrectly, out of turn, or, dare I say, against popular opinion. I am perfectly capable of commandeering a conversation should it be necessary. I speak when I please. I suppose I cannot begrudge anyone else the same.”
    “Even if I am a woman?” Percy asked. When the