Blodgett’s face came alight. He waited until the sound of his father’s receding steps had been swallowed by the thrum of warehouse noises before expelling a pent-up breath. “Is there anything else you need?”
Wrexford took a long moment to survey the rest of the work space. And then repressed a smile.A ray of light.
“I need one of the boys to help me with the various potions. The cauldrons need to be arranged in close proximity, so bring me the small, skinny one. He’ll work best in tight quarters.” The earl allowed a stretch of silence before adding, “You had better bring Hillhouse, too, along with plenty of paper and pencils. He’ll need to explain to me the way the new valve system works so I can understand the exact amount of pressure we’re dealing with.”
“I know the valves,” protested Blodgett. “I can tell you what you need to know.”
Trusting his instincts, Wrexford took a gamble. “Practical knowledge of the mechanics is one thing. But do you know the mathematical equations for calculating volume and pressure? The scientific formulas for various chemical compounds? This isn’t guesswork. It requires highly advanced knowledge.”
A spasm of fury twisted at Blodgett’s handsome face, which was all the answer he needed.
The bastard son,brilliant but barred from all the privileges of his wastrel half brother.His hunch had been right.
“So you see,” said the earl. “I need Hillhouse and his Cambridge education.”
“Anything else?” came the taut reply.
“Another pot of coffee.” Wrexford peeled off his coat. “But first, bring me my helpers.”
* * *
A huffing, puffing dragon, snorting fire and scalding clouds of steam, flapped its scaly wings. It was coming closer and closer—her throat was burning, she couldn’t breath—
“Wake up, Mrs. Sloane.” McClellan gave another gentle shake to Charlotte’s shoulder. “You’re having a bad dream.”
Blinking, she slowly released her suffocating grip on the pillow pressed against her face and groggily sat up. A baleful glance around showed that she’d fallen asleep fully dressed on the sofa.Damnation.Her boots had left streaks of mud on the lovely fabric . . .
“I thought you might like some tea,” added the maid.
Charlotte felt a tickle of benign vapor float caress her face. “Thank you. Tea would be divine.” She accepted the cup and felt her stomach flip-flop as she took in the shaft of bright sunlight shining through the windowpanes. How many hours had trickled by?
“Any word yet?” she demanded.
“A few promising leads,” replied McClellan. “Raven and Hawk are out organizing more help to follow up on them.”
“We’ll find him,” announced another voice.
Charlotte swung her gaze around and saw Sheffield was sitting in one of the armchairs, looking rumpled and wan from lack of sleep.
“We’re having the lads pass the word that there will be a very large reward for whoever leads us to the hackney’s destination.” His jaw tightened. “We’ll find him,” he repeated. “Satan would find Wrex’s sarcasm far too annoying to let him stay in hell.”
She smiled, as he had intended, but then, to her horror, realized that tears had pearled on her lashes and several had spilled to her cheeks. Turning away, she made a show of fanning her face. “Lud, the tea is hot as Hades—just the thing to chase the fog from my brain.”
McClellan tactfully busied herself with the tray, pretending not to notice the momentary show of emotion.
Charlotte took another scalding sip, welcoming the burn on her tongue. Damn Wrexford for being so . . . so . . .
Principled.
Infuriating man.She wished she could shake him until his teeth rattled. It wasshewho let passions take her to where angels feared to tread. Not him. He wasn’t supposed to care. Drawing a shuddering breath, she set aside the cup, aware that her hands were trembling.
Damn, damn, damn. Time was not on their side. Every minute that ticked by made it less likely they would find the earl alive.
Rising, Charlotte began to pace, feeling like one of the caged lions at the Tower menagerie.Thump, thump.She knew Sheffield and McClellan were watching her in concern.Wondering, no doubt, whether she was going to wear a hole in the floorboards.
The sound of steps suddenly grew louder.
She whipped around as the two boys came racing into the parlor.
