The Education of Bet (2 page)

"Elizabeth?" The old man turned to me once all the servants had left. "Can you remember all the reasons William has been sent down from school or, er, requested never to return?"

I wondered if he really could have forgotten them. I did not like being put in a position where I had to say anything negative about anyone else in the household—my own place felt far too tenuous—but I could not simply ignore a direct question. Well, perhaps if Will were the one asking.

"Let me see..." I tilted my head toward the ceiling as though it would take a great effort to remember, as though Will's scholastic crimes weren't so notable that of course they sprang readily to mind.

"The first time was cheating," I said, then stopped myself. "No, that's not right. Will had to build up to that. The first time was lying, it was the
second
time that was cheating, the third time was general mischief—too many fights and that sort of thing—while this last time, the fourth time—"

I had to stop myself again, truly puzzled. "Why, I don't know what the fourth time was. The letter never said."

His great-uncle and I both turned in Will's direction, questioning looks on our faces.

"I, um, set the headmaster's house on fire," Will said.

The old man practically jumped out of his seat. "You set—?"

"But there was no one inside it at the time," Will quickly added.

"You set—? You could have been arrested! You
should
have been arrested! Why weren't—"

"It was a decrepit house," Will said. "The headmaster needed a new one." Then he laughed. "Really, I think he was rather grateful for my efforts, but of course he couldn't say
that,
so I was merely asked never to return."

"You're an arsonist!"

Will shrugged. "Not if I was never charged with any crime."

Although I'd often thought that Will could probably get away with anything, I did marvel at times that schools kept accepting him, given his history. But then, all I needed to do was look around me, taking in the evidence of the enormous wealth of Paul Gardener and the power I knew went with it. As long as Will had a great-uncle who could buy him out of trouble, schools would continue to accept him; the ones that had been provoked into expelling him had done so only with great reluctance and much apologizing. Were it not for his great-uncle's money and influence, Will would no doubt have become a social pariah for his misdeeds, been kept away from the best of society.

"I don't understand." The old man threw down his napkin in despair. "You have had every advantage. And you are smart! Why must you lie? Why must you cheat? Why must you do all of these awful ...
things?
"

For once, Will, who always had an answer for everything, remained silent.

If his great-uncle had asked me, I could have answered that question. But he hadn't, and I was glad of that. Will did not like to hurt his great-uncle, and I did not like to do so either; I would never even consider it unless something truly important was at stake.

"It is almost," the old man said, as though he had seized upon a shrewd thought, "as though you do not
want
to be at school."

I almost laughed out loud at this, and from the look on his face, Will was having a similar reaction.

"But it does not matter what you want," the old man went on, steely now, no longer bothering to wonder why Will did the things he did. "By the end of summer I will have found you yet another school, no matter who I have to bribe or how much it costs me. I don't even care if it is the worst school in all of England—which is probably the only sort of place that would accept you at this point—this time,
you will not get sent down!
"

***

We went back in the drawing room, where Paul Gardener asked for the pudding course to be served, following which he poured a glass of port and requested that I read to him.

Will made to leave, but, having heard the sound of retreating footsteps, his great-uncle called him back.

"You will listen to Elizabeth read," the old man commanded. "Who knows? You might even learn something."

So Will slouched in a chair, hands clasped behind his head, long legs stretched out in front of him, looking bored out of his mind as I read from
King Lear.

The old man liked me to read Shakespeare to him, liked that I had a talent for creating different voices for all the characters so he never had to ask me who was speaking, but not many pages in he was snoring in his seat.

"Come outside with me, Bet?" Will invited.

I placed a piece of red silk ribbon to mark the spot where I'd left off reading and gently put the volume aside. Then I followed Will out of the room, to the rear of the house, and through the French doors that led to the back garden.

Taking a seat on the curved stone bench, I watched as Will paced under the early moonlight.

With no more sun, and with summer proper yet to get under way, it was chilly out. Could we not, I wondered as I rubbed my hands over my arms for warmth, have discussed whatever Will wanted to discuss inside?

"If I have to go back to that school, I will go
mad!
" Will erupted.

"Well," I said, reasonably enough, "you do not have to go back to that school. In fact, you
cannot
go back to that school."

"Any school, then," he said, seething.

"Will you please stop pacing?" I said. "It is dizzy-making watching you go back and forth like this."

"Fine." Will still seethed but at least he obeyed my request, coming to sit beside me.

"Your great-uncle is right," I said. "Your behavior makes no sense. You are smart enough to do well in school, very well, and yet you choose not to. You are good enough not to do the awful things you do, and yet you choose to do them anyway."

"Yes, yes, I am a puzzle to everybody. Please, Bet," he said. "You're not going to say 'Why, Will?' to me too, are you?"

"No, of course not. I know why you do as you do. It is because you do not wish to be where you are."

"Yes!" His sense of relief at being understood for once was so strong I could almost reach out and touch it with my hand, touch him to show my sympathy.

And yet I couldn't do that. It was rare for me to touch another person and just as rare to have another person touch me.

So instead I settled for unleashing my anger. Will and I had known each other long enough that I could do that in front of him, provided we were alone; I could do it in front of no one else in the world.

"And do
you
have any idea," I said, "how
insanely
angry you make me?"

He drew back at this, startled.

I continued before he could stop me.

"I can read just as well as you can, Will Gardener! I am just as smart as you are! And yet I am stuck here, in this house, while you"—now it was my turn to seethe, and I gestured toward him with my hand, disgusted—"you are out there in the world!"

"You are right," he admitted softly. "It is not fair."

That softness, that sensitivity, was almost harder to bear than his infuriating behavior. In a way, I felt as though he'd be doing me a favor if he were to laugh at my ambition. Perhaps if he did, I would think my desires silly as well, and eventually, one day, I would stop wanting what I could not have.

"Right," I said, crossing my arms firmly against my chest. "It is not fair."

"But it is the way of the world," he said.

I did not like this so much. I did not like thinking anything impossible. But now I worried that if we continued on in this vein, I would burst into tears of frustration in front of him, and this I did not want to do.

So I changed the subject.

"Tell me, Will. I know you do not want to be at school—I think even your great-uncle understands that, even if he does not like it—but if you could have whatever you wanted, if you could have your greatest wish, what would you be doing instead?"

"Promise you will not laugh?"

I did not promise. I merely gave him an offended look. The very idea—as though I could not be trusted not to laugh.

Will took a deep breath and spoke on the exhale. "I should like to join the military."

It was a good thing I had made no promise, because I did laugh.

"But that is ... that is ... preposterous!" I laughed some more.

"No, it is not."

"But you are only sixteen!" I laughed even harder. "You are too young!"

"No, I am not." His voice grew enthusiastic; his face became animated with excitement. "Do you know, Bet, that they have tents at fairs, stalls in the streets—all you need do is go to one of these places, say you are of age, and they will believe you. They
want
to believe you."

His words sobered me instantly, the idea that such an idiotically dangerous thing could be so ridiculously easy. But then I thought about it some more and pulled a face.

"Well, if it is that easy, then why don't you go enlist right now?"

I thought I had him. He was fine at talk. But when it came down to it, he was too scared to reach for what he wanted.

He gave a nod of his head toward the house, where his great-uncle snored by the dying fire inside. "Because of him," he said. "It would kill him if I left."

"You leave him all the time when you go to school," I scoffed.

"Not like this," he said. "When I go off to school, he has good reason to be sure that I will come back, and that when I come back I will be alive."

Now there was a cheerful thought.

And a sensitive one as well.

It gave me pause to think that, amidst all the lying and cheating and mischief and arson, Will had managed to grow quite a bit of compassion for other people.

"I am all he has left," Will went on.

I was tempted to point out that his great-uncle had me also but I did know that it wasn't quite the same thing. Family was not something that could be replaced, as I well knew. And whatever else I might be to the old man—helper, reader, on some days even friend—I was not family.

Will confirmed as much by adding, "I did try to raise the issue with him last time I was home—I thought perhaps I could join the military in the usual fashion, go to an appropriate training school first before entering into the service—but I had to stop when he became upset. 'Don't you realize you are my only remaining relative? If something happened to you, I would die.'" Will attempted a casual shrug but couldn't quite pull it off. "It was awful."

It
was
awful, to think of the old man so upset. But it was also awful, perhaps even more so, to think of people not pursuing the things they wanted most in life.

I had one dream in this world, wanted one thing: the chance to be at school. Will had that thing I wanted most, and yet he valued it cheaply, dreamed of something else. Was there not some way Will and I could both achieve our dreams?

I was thankful that Will was so dejected about the hopelessness of his situation that, for once, he remained silent long enough to allow me time to think. That was the thing whenever Will was home: it was wonderful having his energy fill up the musty corners of the house, bring life back to the old place, but his energy
did
fill it up, entirely, so there was little space for anything
but
Will.

But now...

I asked myself the question again: Was there not some way both Will and I could achieve our dreams?

And within that blessed silence, I began to see the glimmering of an idea, which fast formed into a full-fledged plan.

Could we...? If we both agreed...?

As the excitement grew in me, I began to find fault with my own idea. For one thing, it could never work. For another thing, and perhaps more important in terms of my own vanity, Will would no doubt laugh in my face. If he, as evidenced earlier, did not like to be laughed at, I liked it even less. When you possess little in the world except your own pride, it is an awful thing to have it taken from you.

But what was I talking about? Why let pride stand in the way of what I wanted? And why give up and declare a thing impossible before even trying?

I
had
to try.

But before that, I did still have to point out, breaking the silence:

"You do realize war is stupid?" I said, eyes narrowing at Will.

"I do know that girls think that," he allowed.

"And girls are
right.
" I paused. "Still..."

"Still
what,
Bet?" he prompted when I did not speak for a long time.

Considering how often males were the center of attention in the household, never mind in the greater world, it was nice to feel as though I could occupy that place as well, when I had a mind to.

"Let's see," I said. "You want something I don't understand and have no use for—to go to war. And I want something you think is silly and do not want—to get an education. Have I got that right?"

Will shrugged, looking perplexed and even a trifle annoyed at what he no doubt regarded as my pointless statement of the obvious: facts of life that could never be changed. "I suppose."