“So, please, milord, I beg you to stop showing interest in me. You’re known for uncovering sordid truths. People will notice and start asking why.”
That all made sense. And yet, something in Hollister’s eyes . . .
Their gazes locked for an instant, and then the young man flinched.
“Wrexford? Might I have a word . . .” Children hesitated in the doorway. “However, if I’m interrupting, it can wait—”
“No, no, I was just leaving,” exclaimed Hollister. “Mr. DeVere is waiting.”
The earl released his grip on Hollister’s coat and stepped back without a word. The young man quickly refastened the buttons and smoothed the lapels back into place.
But not before Wrexford saw the tiny spot of blood on his shirt.
Children stepped aside to let the young man hurry past him, then came to join Wrexford by the hearth.
“Our earlier conversation on electrical current suddenly caused me to recall an exchange I happened to catch between Chittenden and Lord Thornton.”
Wrexford frowned. The Marquess of Thornton’s interest was chemistry. For the last year he had been experimenting with the newly discovered purple crystal callediode,and had recently written a paper expressing the belief that it might have some useful medical applications. “You’re saying Thornton shared Chittenden’s interest in electricity?”
“I overheard a conversation that seemed to indicate that,” answered Children.
There was nothing unusual in members of the Royal Institution asking each other about their work, no matter if it was in a different field of interest. Men of science were by nature curious.
“And now that you’ve made me think about it, there were elements to it that in retrospect seem a bit disturbing. They were speaking—rather animatedly, I might add—about vital forces, and how electricity might affect the Spark of Life . . . ideas that could be construed as dangerous, especially to a curious young man.” Children paused. “Mind you, I’m not suggesting anything is wrong with the theoretical discussion of outlandish ideas. That’s how we explore and learn. But given your earlier questions, I thought you might wish to know.”
“Thank you,” murmured the earl. “As you say, it’s likely nothing, but I appreciate your passing it on to me.”
CHAPTER 12
Thetick-tickof the mantel clock seemed to echo the doleful tones of a funeral dirge.
“Perhaps . . .”Tick-tick.“. . . that’s because my life as I know it is dead,” muttered Charlotte as she pulled at her bodice, then tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Or about to be.”
The midmorning sun had filled the parlor with a cheery light, but she was too preoccupied with her fidgeting to notice.Tick-tick.She folded and unfolded the single sheet of paper in her hands until the crease was sharp as a knife blade. It took the loud rap of the door knocker to jar her out of her brooding.
The sound was followed by the low exchange of pleasantries as McClellan answered the summons, and then steps in the corridor.
Charlotte sucked in a ragged breath. “Thank you for coming, Wrexford,” she intoned, steeling her spine as the earl entered the room. “May I offer you some refreshments?”
He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you, but no.” A look of bemusement tugged at his lips, but she didn’t miss the shadow of concern in his eyes. “From theurgency of your note, I sense this meeting isn’t meant as an impromptu tea party.”
“Correct.” She crossed and then recrossed her ankles.
His brows rose ever so slightly.
Damnation.Shilly-shallying wasn’t going to make things any easier.
“I wish to ask your advice on something. But first, you need to read this.” Charlotte held out the paper without further ado.
Wrexford carefully unfolded it and took his time in perusing the contents.
Her heart began to thump against her ribs.
He slowly raised his gaze and fixed her with a questioning look.
“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” she said.
Instead of answering, Wrexford moved to the diamond-paned windows and turned to stare out at the quiet street.
