“I could call you out for that,” Ward snarled.
“You wouldn’t. You’re a terrible shot, couldn’t hit the broadside of His Majesty’s ship.”
“Lord Anthony, have you finished your electrical experiments? Of course, your paradigm is a little off, but I understand your lacking” smirked Ward as if he knew so much more.
The more was what Lord Ward had stolen from him. In hindsight, Anthony now stored many of his notes in his head in case Lord Ward attempted to steal from him again.
“Lord Rutland has astounding aptitude in his study of electricity,” said Miss Thorne.
“Do tell, Miss Thorne,” lured Lord Ward.
Anthony narrowed his eyes. How much had she read of his notes? She had no idea that Ward was trying to steal his work again.
“Enough to say his genius is incomparable.”
Anthony lifted a brow. Why had she championed him when he had tainted her with a wolfish intellectual passion so unlike her sex?
Ward snorted. “And you can say this because—”
“Because I have followed Dr. Benjamin Franklin’s discoveries and have had a look at Lord Anthony’s notes.”
Ward leaned over the table to assign a confidential tone, yet spoke loud enough over the hushed whispers and watchful eyes for all to gather what he’d said. His hard blue eyes stared across the table to Lord Anthony. “You compare Lord Anthony to Dr. Franklin?”
“I do. Dr. Franklin is mortal. Lord Anthony is supernatural.”
“So much knowledge for a Colonial woman?” Lord Ward jeered, then looked down her bodice.
Although giving a brilliant smile, Miss Thorne’s eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with Lord Ward. “With what part do you have the most difficulty? The fact I’m a Colonial…or that I’m a woman? Either of which I consider high praise. I dare say that you could not beat Lord Anthony in any one of the electrical discoveries that he is about to launch.”
Anthony ground his teeth. She had thrown down the gauntlet. No way did he have even one of his experiments close to completion. To wring her neck.
Lord Ward’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he sputtered, “You dare to make such a declaration?”
“Afraid?” Anthony made a broad sweep of his arm. He had enough of Ward’s eyeing Miss Thorne’s charms. “Be aware, I ask politely only once, after that, I’ll not be called a fool. There are many invited guests to witness the challenge. So you see, prudence suggests that we make amends, steel our soft hearts to the inevitable, and invite you to be so accommodating to answer the contest.”
“I see,” said Ward with mock-urbanity and suave detachment, waving an effeminate hand while taking his measure of Lord Anthony. “I confess there is much force in what you say.”
“It’s with good cheer that you lighten my sentiments,” said Anthony. “If I win, I will take your position at the Royal Society of Science, and if you win, Lord Ward, I will forfeit five thousand pounds.”
Ward’s eyes played over Anthony like points of steel. “Never will I lose, so get used to being five thousand pounds lighter in the pocket.”
He smiled at the pompous man. “Then allow me to put it another way—perhaps more indulgent. I will have what is mine by rights. This I do not doubt.”
Murmurs of shock mounted around the table from the unorthodox gambit but Anthony had his eyes fixed on Lord Ward. If the fraud had a gun, Anthony would have a bullet in the head.
Dinner ended, the men stood and before the ladies left for the drawing room, he feltherpresence next to him. Her hand threaded through his arm, warm and delicious. He looked down on her and she smiled up to him.
She drew her hand away as if she were too forward. He recaptured her hand and placed it on his arm, patted it, and held her beside him. Which of them trembled?
“Lord Anthony, I am weary from my travels. Do you think you could escort me home?”
His heart slammed against his chest. How could he resist? He told Lady March, Rachel’s chaperone to bid adieu to her friends and to meet them at the entrance. He said good night to Lord Chelmsford and felt no remorse, informing a disappointed Lord Humphrey that he was escorting Miss Thorne home. He collected their hats and cloaks and they waited on the outdoor steps of Chelmsford’s home for the Rutland coach to pull up from a collection of carriages.
Her vexing wager rattled in his head. “Look at the fine conundrum you’ve got me into. I’m nowhere near your cock-and-bull story. I’ll be the laughing stock of England.”
She withdrew her hand. He snatched it back and held it on his arm, unable to define the warmth radiating inside him, despite his consternation. Her hand felt at home there.
Her lips parted, surprised by the gesture as much as he. “I should be the one angry with you for exposing my accomplishments, but Lord Ward needed a reprimand. He insulted you and I took exception. What else was I to do?”
