Chapter 1
Marlowe Castle
Christmas, England
“To theDuke!” yelled a half-sotted voice in the middle of the packed ballroom.
“To Penelope Mitchell!”the crowd shouted back, raising their goblets of spiced wine in unison.
Clinks of crystal glasses and peals of merry laughter filled the high-ceilinged assembly room as the spectators’ cheers warmed the nutmeg-scented air.
Despite this being the third such toast in the past half hour, Miss Penelope Mitchell still couldn’t quite credit that the entirety of her mountaintop village had crowded into the castle’s largest chamber to celebrate something other than the year-round Christmastide their town was primarily known for.
As a lady chemist, she couldn’t be prouder.
Her satisfaction wasn’t solely because the townsfolk had gathered to celebrate the accomplishments of a woman, or even because the accomplishment in question was a perfume she had invented herself.
As far as Penelope was concerned, she and one thousand of her neighbors had gathered to celebrate a breakthrough inscience.
Unlike more well-known natural philosophers, Penelope’s primary field of study was neither plant life nor the animal kingdom.The majority of her observations and chemical experiments took place in the custom-built laboratory next to her kitchen.An unobtrusive metal firewall separated both rooms from the rest of the house in case of accidental fire or explosion.
Today, it was Penelope’s soaring heart that felt close to detonation.
“Congratulations!”shouted her bosom friend Miss Gloria Godwin over the joyous din of the crowd.
Although Gloria directed her passions toward the infinite expanse of the heavens whilst Penelope preferred to focus on glass vials of chemicals she could hold in her hands, the two had been inseparable since childhood.
“Thank you,” Penelope said, as soon as she edged close enough not to have to shout.The party had been underway less than an hour, and already she feared losing her voice before morning.“I cannot believeDukeis this successful.”
“It isn’t,” Gloria said matter-of-factly.“The party isn’t for your perfume.The celebration is foryou.We’re proud all of England has recognized your talent.”
Penelope gave her a crooked grin.“Who knew our town’s resident lady chemist would become a champion not only of science, but of fashion?”
“I did,” Gloria said without hesitation.
Penelope’s cheeks heated.“You’re a good friend.”
“And you’re mad as a hatter,” Gloria replied with a flash of her dimples.“But it seems so is everyone else.There’s nothing England likes better than to copy whatever barmy antics appear in the scandal sheets.I ask you, what sort of man would douse himself with animal secretions in an attempt to attract a woman?”
“A wise man who understands science,” Penelope protested.“It’s chemistry, not madness.A natural reaction.When the olfactory glands of certain mammals are exposed to the—”
“Stop right there.”Gloria covered her ears and pretended not to hear.“This is a party, not the annual gathering of the Natural Philosophers Society.”She frowned.“Isthere a Natural Philosophers Society?”
Penelope opened her mouth to answer.
“No, don’t tell me.Don’t tell anyone,” Gloria said quickly.“That’s not why we’re here, darling.No one careshowyour perfume works.They just love that itdoes.All those articles and caricatures and gossip columns with stories of previously unrakish men being practically trampled by eligible females within minutes of applying youreau de toilette… You’re a genius.”
Penelope swallowed an uncomfortable lump in her throat at the praise.“It’s not genius.Experiment after experiment has proven that the properly proportioned secretions of both musk whales and civets—”
“No, no, no.”Gloria grabbed a fresh glass of mulled wine from a passing footman and shoved it into Penelope’s hands.“Donotexplain how it works.To anyone.That ruins the magic.”
With a sigh of frustration, Penelope lowered her nose to smell the steam of her spiced wine.Of course “how it works” was the important bit.Chemists, natural philosophers, and alchemists alike dedicated their lives to trying to decipher the workings of nature.Being able to turn an undesirable element into a desirable one was the entire point.
“Then whatisthe ‘magic?’”she asked.
Gloria raised her brows in surprise.“Prinneywears your perfume, because none other than Beau Brummell told him true gentlemen shan’t leave their dressing rooms without it.The Prince Regent!In your perfume!That’sthe magic.Now that you’re famous—”
“I’m not famous,” Penelope reminded her.“A specific combination of painstakingly researched olfactory elements is famous.”
