Anthony nodded. His hair was a mess, loosened from his queue and there was a stain on his upper sleeve. At that moment, he was the handsomest man in the world.
He fidgeted with several flasks, probing his creative mind. “If we spilt the making of the solutions then we will be more efficient.”
She moved to the counter and drew out some flasks, and then reached for the sulfuric acid on the shelf above. The bottle wobbled, tilted, her fingers grasping. The carafe spun from her reach, and then dropped. A scream squelched in her throat. Her heart stopped. A wind brushed against her. Anthony swooped up and caught the bottle. The stopper popped out and rolled across the counter, the oily residue, steaming a path where acid burned the work surface. Had the acid splashed on her hands? She stared with horror, waiting for the fire of the acerbic to blister her skin.
He set the bottle down, grabbed her, and dragged her to a sink. With violence, he worked the pump, water flushing out the spout and onto her hands. Repeatedly, he inspected her skin through a cascade of water. A jolt ran through her from his unexpected touch.
She shook her head. “I don’t think the acid splashed on my skin.”
His eyes narrowed on her…eyes that masked the soul and in the same instant, snapped and crackled points of fire. Was he one of those men who didn’t want you to think they were interested in you, even though they were? “Acid eats flesh, devours bone.” He reprimanded herbut she knew that.
How stupid.
“You will be more careful,” he commanded. “I am responsible for you and don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Rachel pulled her hands away, surprised that her shaking limbs obeyed her. Her careless handling of the acid made her want to slither under the door like a snake to escape. And if her inept actions weren’t embarrassing enough, she’d obviously read far more into his responses than existed. He was gallant and concerned for her safety. What a fool to assume he cared for her more than a colleague.
He yanked open a drawer and jerked on rubber gloves. “We will not perform the acid test today. We will explore what I have in mind. The Italian physician, Galvani used iron and brass in his experimentation. I’m thinking he was on to something in utilizing two dissimilar metals.” He scrubbed the counter and put the sulfuric acid bottle on the shelf.
Her stomach clenched at his easy dismissal of her theory, as if her concept had no merit at all. “We will revisit my theory in the future?” By no means was she going to allow her idea to be swept away.
“Most people are superstitious about electricity, believing this fire we produce is divined from the devil.”
Was he intimating that the acid disaster was bad luck? He tore off his gloves and tossed them aside. “We will continue using the saltwater solution.”
Pig-headed man. “We need to try an acid.”
“I hate eating Lord Ward’s dust.”
She planted her fists on her hips. “Then listen to my theory.”
“I will, but I want to rule out the salt-water. My suspicions are nagging me. Can you mix a brine, thirty percent salt, sixty percent water? I’ll retrieve the zinc and iron plates.”
Your laboratory, Lord Anthony.
Rachel lowered her head, measuring out the salt and water and mixing the solution. Abby had told her that Anthony had been married. To have snared the highly intelligent, talented Lord Rutland, the woman must have been clever…and beautiful. Good Lord, was she jealous of a dead woman?
He brushed against her and her head snapped up. For a split second she sensed he had the urge to touch her again, and yet, in his eyes, shuttered a flash of pain. He pulled back. What demons tormented him? Did the ache he buried have something to do with his late wife?
How had his wife dealt with his flaws? Judgmental? Impatient? Sometimes rude? The strong opinions he formed? But, in a room full of people, hadn’t he challenged Lord Ward, making threats and insults that would curl one’s ears? Hadn’t he subdued Sir Bonneville? As brash as Americans were considered, Lord Anthony outdistanced them in crossing the lines of respectable boundaries. The man was an enigma.
What others might find pushy or callous, Rachel viewed through a different lens. She saw and respected the intelligent and gifted man who held himself to the highest of standards. She laughed off his brooding insults and accepted his impatience as a positive virtue.
It was all a façade. With her, he was kind, considerate and honorable. That he adhered to a code of ethics, regarding her was demonstrated when he saved her from Sir Bonneville and then again, when he had saved her life. She liked the way he cared for her.Protected her.
His analytical mind drove her wild and his drive to succeed matched her desire to excel. He was a man with a vision and a man to get things done. With discovery a food for his soul, and the ability to conquer the world, nothing would stop him.
He procured the items he needed and then threw extra logs on the fire. Sparks spit and snapped and spiraled up the flue. “Experimentation is more forceful than any logical thinking: facts can destroy our reasoned train of thought—not the other way around,” he said.
He referred to Dr. Galvani’s experimentation in making frog’s legs jump, deeming living tissue yielded electricity. Anthony believed otherwise. He rejoined her, the firelight dancing off the broad angles of his face as he focused on placing the plates side by side.
She nodded her head in agreement. “And the day scientists study non-physical phenomena will be the day man advances with enormous strides.”
He leaned into her. Rachel stepped back. Of course, he would be doubted, disagreed with, and disapproved, going up against a tsunami of naysayers in the scientific community for his theories. Her heart ached. His journey would be difficult.
He stared at her. “Thank you for your confidence in me.”
The air in the laboratory was suddenly too close. Too thick and full and overflowing withhim. Determined not to let her guard down Rachel raised her chin and did her best to look him square in the eye.
