need a new thesis director, not a bus ticket home.

Regards,

Miss J. H. Mitchell,

Lowly Graduate Student,

On-Knees-More-Than-The-Average-Whore.

P.S. I will be returning the M. P. Emerson bursary next week.

Congratulations, Professor Abelard. No one has ever made me

feel as cheap as you did Sunday morning.

The Dean straightened in his chair. He read the two emails once

again, examining every word.

Although he had a vague memory of who Peter Abelard was, he

indulged his curiosity and Googled him. He clicked on a reputable

biography and began reading.

Quod erat demonstrandum, he thought.

199

Chapter 23

Downtown, Jeremy Martin was reclining on his leather sofa, eyes

closed, listening to Beethoven while his wife got ready for bed.

As the Chair of Italian Studies, he was responsible for a number of people, including faculty and students. Gabriel’s revelation that he was dating a former student troubled him.

He knew that Christa Peterson’s complaint was malicious, but

like any other complainant, she should be taken seriously. Given

the fact that she was correct in surmising that Gabriel and Julianne were involved, it was quite possible that her allegation that Julianne had received special favors was also correct. Gabriel, his friend and colleague, had tried to keep the relationship secret. Now the Dean was asking questions, placing Jeremy in a hell of a bind.

Over the course of his career in the United States and now in

Toronto, he’d seen too many bright and promising graduate students become the playthings of their professors. His wife, for example,

had been a graduate student in linguistics at Columbia University, only to have her career ruined by her professor/lover after she tired of his alcoholism. It had taken years for Danielle’s wounds to heal, and even now she would have nothing to do with academia. Jeremy

didn’t want to see Julianne’s career come to a similar end.

On the other hand, he would not allow the rising star of his

faculty to be slandered and vilified for an infraction he hadn’t committed. If the Dean investigated Professor Emerson and Miss Mitchell further, Jeremy would do his damnedest to ensure that justice was

served. Failing that, he was determined to ensure that his depart-

ment was protected. Which is why he was horrified to find copies of letters addressed to Professor Emerson and Miss Mitchell with his

daily mail on the first Thursday in March.

Gabriel’s Rapture

Muttering expletives, he glanced at the contents quickly before

making a discreet call to one of his contacts in the Dean’s office. Half an hour later, he was placing a call to Professor Emerson’s home.

“Have you checked your snail mail today?”

Gabriel frowned. “No. Why?”

“Because I have a letter from the Dean indicating that you and

Julianne are being investigated for engaging in an inappropriate

relationship while she was your student.”

“Fuck,” said Gabriel.

“Exactly. Are you sitting down?”

“No.”

“Well, take a seat. I just got off the phone with a friend who

works in the Dean’s office. Julianne has filed a harassment complaint against Christa Peterson, pursuant to the allegations against her. In retaliation, Christa has threatened the university with a lawsuit over the fact that Julianne received preferential treatment because she slept with you. Christa’s allegations are now part of the investigation into you and Julianne.”

“That’s preposterous!”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is. It’s ridiculous.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Gabriel, because the university takes com-

plaints like this very seriously. The Provost’s office has ordered the Dean and two others to form a committee and investigate the allegations. You and Julianne are being summoned to appear before

them, together.”

Gabriel cursed. “Who else is on the committee?”

“My contact wouldn’t tel me. The good news is that the meeting

is only an investigatory hearing. Depending upon how the hearing

officers decide the matter, it could be referred to the Provost’s Office for charges to be laid, and then the two of you would have to appear before a disciplinary tribunal. I don’t need to explain to you how deep the shit would be at that point.”

“Why doesn’t the Dean simply meet with me? All of this could

be laid to rest in a few minutes.”

“I doubt that. Allegations and complaints are piling up and you’re at the center of all of them.”

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Sylvain Reynard

Gabriel’s heart almost stopped. “You think there are more al-

legations forthcoming?”

“I have my suspicions. But nothing has been confirmed.”

“Shit,” said Gabriel, rubbing his eyes roughly. “Just how much

trouble are we in?”

“If I were you, I’d stop thinking as a we and focus on I. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place.”

“Just answer the question, please.”

Jeremy paused, flipping through the letters on his desk. “Since

there is some question about the integrity of your marking scheme

with respect to Julianne, the Dean has suspended her grade in your seminar. That means that her transcript will be incomplete until the matter is resolved either with a dismissal or a tribunal and its outcome.”

“She won’t graduate,” Gabriel whispered.

“It’s University policy to withhold a final grade until all academic infractions are dealt with.”

“So depending on how long this takes, she won’t be able to go

to Harvard.”

“If the matter is settled in her favor, they’ll let the grade stand and backdate her graduation. But by that time, I would assume

she’d lose her place at Harvard. Unless she can persuade them to

defer her admission.”

“Her admission was conditional on the satisfactory completion of

her MA. She can ask, but I don’t think she’s in a position to ask for a deferral. And if Harvard catches wind of this, they might withdraw their offer.”

“Then she’d better pray this matter is settled in time for her to

apply to graduate. And frankly, so should you. If you’re found guilty of academic fraud, the Provost can strip you of your tenure.”

“Fuck.” Gabriel slammed his hand down on his desk. “When

will we have to appear before the committee?”

“Thursday, March twenty-fifth.”

“That leaves them less than a month to sort everything out before

she needs to apply for graduation.”

“Academic procedures move at a glacial pace. You know that.”

He cleared his throat. “Aren’t you the slightest bit worried about your predicament?”

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Gabriel’s Rapture

“Not particularly,” Gabriel growled.

“Well, you should be. And what’s more, my primary concern

is you, although I would be sorry to see Julianne’s academic future threatened.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“And I’m not about to let one of my star professors be hung

out to dry.” Jeremy heaved a deep breath. “Under the policy you’re suspected of violating, you bear more responsibility than her. You’re under suspicion of evaluating a student with reference to a criterion that has nothing to do with academic merit.”

“That’s preposterous and you have the paper trail to prove it.”

“No, I don’t.” Jeremy began tapping his finger against the pages

in front of him. “I have a paper trail, but it’s incomplete. You didn’t notify me until recently that you were involved with her. Now my

boss is starting to ask questions. Do you have any idea how embar-

rassing this is for me? I look like I just fell off the turnip truck and have no idea what the hell is going on in my own department!”

Gabriel inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you fucked up, Gabriel, no matter how you look

at it. And I’m not about to jeopardize everything I’ve worked for to cover your ass.”

Professor Emerson was stunned into silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating her? I hired you, for

God’s sake.”

“Because I didn’t think it was anyone’s business who I was sleep-

ing with.”

“You can’t be serious.” Jeremy muttered a curse. “You know the

rules governing relationships with students. Since you kept your

relationship secret from me and everyone else, you look guilty.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Jeremy, can I count on your support

or not?”

“I’ll do what I can, but that might not be much. If I were you, I’d notify the Faculty Association and make sure you bring your union

representative to the hearing.”

“This is a witch hunt that was started by a disgruntled graduate

student. Christa Peterson is trying to have me fired.”

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Sylvain Reynard

“You might be right. But before you get on your soapbox, realize

that you violated university policy. That makes it much easier for the administration to infer that you’re guilty of other infractions. And by the way, I received an email from the Dean asking me about the M. P.

Emerson bursary. For your sake, I hope your fingerprints aren’t on it.”

Gabriel let loose with a string of curses. Jeremy interrupted him.

“If you don’t have a lawyer, my friend, now would be the time

to hire one.”

Gabriel muttered something and hung up the phone, walking

swiftly to his dining room to pour himself a drink.

P

Although Gabriel notified the Faculty Association of his situation, he declined their offer to accompany him to the hearing. John was

of the opinion that his legal acumen was far more threatening than that of the union, but he was willing to admit that should the matter result in charges, it would be appropriate at that point to involve them.

John’s advice was to stonewall, although he urged Gabriel to

coach Julianne on what not to say. Failing that, he had every intention of arguing that she was an unstable, impressionable student who had become fixated on Gabriel at a young age and had seduced him.

Hoping that his client would fol ow instructions, John didn’t

bother to explain this strategy.

Soraya’s advice paral eled that of John. She told Julia to say nothing and if pressed, to blame Gabriel for everything. Soraya almost cackled with glee at the prospect of arguing that he was the older, rakish professor who had seduced an innocent young woman with

promises of a long and happy future. When Julia declared that she

wanted to tell the truth, Soraya told her that that was a very bad idea. She planned to bring up Gabriel’s promiscuous reputation and brushes with law enforcement.

Like John, she anticipated a cooperative client and thus didn’t

bother articulating the details of her strategy.

The night before the hearing, Julia was awakened mid-dream by

the sound of something tapping against her apartment window. At

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Gabriel’s Rapture

first, she thought she was still dreaming. When the sound repeated, this time more loudly, she exited her bed and pulled aside the curtain.

There, standing with his nose almost pressed against the glass, was Gabriel. He looked slightly wild, eyes frantic, wearing his beret and his winter coat, standing knee-deep in a snowdrift.

She quickly unlocked the window and stood aside as a gust of

frozen air whooshed past him with his entrance into the room. He

closed the window soundly, locked it, and drew the curtain.

“Gabriel, what are you — ”

She wasn’t given the chance to finish her question as he wrapped

her in his arms. She smelled the Scotch before she tasted it, as he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were freezing, it was true, but his mouth and tongue were warm and inviting. And the heat of his

kiss, which was deep and sensual, began to blossom across her skin.

“Are you drunk? What happened?”

He pulled away, but only for a moment, so he could divest himself

of his hat and coat. Then he was embracing her once again, tracing icy fingers up and down her arms, unbuttoning her pajama top and