Anthony looked to Rachel. “Let me try. My hair is on fire.”
Aunt Margaret smiled and nodded. “Okay, in a while.”
Rachel dabbed a napkin over her mouth to hide her lips. “Shame on you, Anthony. I like your Aunt Margaret. She is sweetness.”
“I am so glad you came and agreed to be my chaperone,” Rachel offered.
Aunt Margaret tsked and shook her head. “The King should never be overthrown. Such talk is treasonous.”
“Oh, dear,” Rachel said. “I’ve created a muddle.
Anthony gestured to the horn. Rachel had seen silver ear horns in the Colonies used for those who were hard of hearing. The funnel shaped device collected sound waves, amplified them and brought the communication to the ear.
Aunt Margaret held it to her ear, appearing like a half-Viking. “This is my new ear horn,” she said proudly.
“What kind is it?” Rachel asked.
Aunt Margaret looked at the clock hanging on the wall. “A quarter after two.”
Anthony slapped his hands on his knees. “Back to work.” He escorted Rachel to their experiment in progress.
Rachel giggled. “Poor Aunt Margaret.”
“Don’t let her deafness fool you, and above all, do not fall prey to her innocent confusion that masks the nature of her genius. Except for frequent attacks of narcolepsy where the rest of the world ceases for her, she has a practiced eye for concealed disasters.”
To prove his point, snoring and very loud snoring burst from behind. Aunt Margaret slumped in her chair, asleep. On impulse, Rachel went into the back room, tore a blanket off the cot and covered Aunt Margaret, careful to tuck in the covers around her.
“She is exhausted from her journey.”
* * *
“They are preparing to leave, Your Grace, for an extended carriage ride,” said Sebastian, the butler, closing the library doors behind him.
The duke strode to the window, the butler behind him watching the young couple. “The Colonial induced Anthony out of his lab. Can you imagine? Let’s have a toast. An incredible accomplishment.” The Duke of Rutland poured a glass of sherry for them both.
“Aren’t you going to offer a drink to me?” A voice demanded behind a large wing-backed chair. “And shame on you for assuming the plot to keep them together is between the two of you.”
The duke arrested his drink halfwayAunt Margaret in the library?
Sebastian straightened, put his drink down and resumed his position. “If that is all you require, Your Grace, then I shall be on my way.”
“Nonsense. Stay, Sebastian.” Aunt Margaret waved a hand. “You two think you are the only ones privy to secrets. I wouldn’t be left out of this for a million pounds. Abby wrote to me” Their gazes locked as they assessed one another, confirming an unsaid secret, the duke taken aback by his wife’s diminutive sister.
He threw back the entire contents of his glass, and then confirmed her accurate conclusion with a slight, mocking inclination of his head. “Well since we are all in the know, what do you suggest?”
Aunt Margaret blinked owl eyes, her superiority conveyed. “We must be clever for they are both very intelligent. I come from the days where a little distance makes the heart grow fonder. Let us think of something to separate them for a while.”
The butler cleared his throat. “If I may speak, Your Grace, Lady Margaret’s strategy has a purpose.”
The duke nodded his head. “How do you propose that scenario when we can’t tear them apart from that absurd electrical fire they swoon about?”
“Abby disclosed Miss Thorne was an inventor of sorts, had invented an indoor bathing tub, including a pump to move water upstairs. You could employ her to build one.”
“And how would I do that? To retain her is the epitome of rudeness.”
“Guilt and pride are powerful tools. Guilt is the bread and butter of many family communications.”
“And pride?” the Duke prompted.
