“Trouble might be lurking anywhere,” added Hawk. “We can’t afford to let our guard down.”
Harper, who was stretched out in front of the hearth, lifted his massive head and thumped his tail in agreement.
Woodbridge shivered and took a gulp of brandy. “I wasn’t skulking. I was coming to take responsibility for my own cork-brained actions, rather than remain cowering like a lily-livered coward behind my sister’s skirts.”
“A noble sentiment,” murmured Alison. “But then, I’ve never heard an ill word about your character, young man.”
Woodbridge made a face. “Well, clearly, my intelligence deserves to be questioned.”
Cordelia fixed him with a stern look. “You were supposed to stay in the carriage with Professor Sudler and help him keep guard over his invention.”
“We both agreed it was unmanly to allow you to, er . . .” He glanced at Harper. “To face the wolves, as it were, on your own.”
“As you see,” murmured Charlotte, “no one has yet been eaten alive.”
Cordelia’s brother scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “The truth is, I deserve to be fed to the lions in the Tower Menagerie.” The sunlight caught the faint glimmer of gold from the stubbled whiskers. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and somehow that made him look younger and more vulnerable.
“I know I’m not as clever as Cordelia,” he continued after expelling a ragged sigh. “I just want to take care of my estate and my tenants. A gentleman has a duty to be a good steward of the land and pass it on to future generations.”
Wrexford felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy. In truth, he found Woodbridge a likable fellow who didn’t appear to have an ounce of guile or cunning to his nature.
Charlotte seemed to have the same reaction, for she flashed him a sympathetic smile. “We all have our strengths, Lord Woodbridge. Yours are equally important as those of your sister.”
“But I made a mull of it.” He looked stricken. “What a gudgeon I was to believe—”
The rest of his words were suddenly swallowed in a deep-throated bark from Harper.
The earl spun around. He, too, had heard the faintclick-clickin the adjoining room, where a door led out to the back terrace. The hound was by his side in a flash, and the two of them hurried into the corridor.
A yelp sounded. Ignoring Charlotte’s whispered warning, Raven snatched up the Elizabethan small sword. But before he could move, Wrexford and Harper returned. And between them was a rotund little man with bushy brows and long silver hair tied back in an old-fashioned queue. He was wearing a shapeless brown coat with oil stains around the cuffs.
“I take it,” said Charlotte, “that we are about to meet the elusive Professor Sudler.”
Cordelia chuffed an exasperated sigh. “Isaac, you’re supposed to be standing guard over your Engine.”
“It seemed rather pointless, as I have no idea how to aim and fire a pistol.” Sudler’s brow furrowed. “Such a primitive mechanism. The engineering could be greatly improved. If one made a cartridge that contained both the bullet and—”
“Let us leave ballistics aside for now,” she gently chided. “We need to talk about numbers.”
“Yes, numbers,” said Wrexford. “Lady Cordelia was just about to tell us why they are adding up to murder and mayhem.”
“That’s because greed became the most important part of the equation for the miscreants.” Sudler tugged at his cuff. “I know what the numbers tell me. But alas, my tongue tends to be clumsy. Lady Cordelia is much better with words, so she had better explain it.”
“Your tongue may be clumsy, but your hands aren’t,” said the earl. “Your workshop is a marvel. As is your prototype.”
The professor’s expression clouded. “The Computing Engine is meant to be used as a force for progress, not manipulated for personal greed.”
“That’s why we’re here. To ask for help to ensure that it’s not used to do evil,” said Cordelia.
Sudler nodded, but shadows hovered beneath his lashes.
After a moment of hesitation, she knotted her hands together in her lap and resumed her explanation. “Before I return to the dastards and their scheme, I should first explain how Isaac and I came to be friends and mathematical collaborators. We met when Jamie was studying at Cambridge and attended the professor’s lectures on mathematics. I confess, I occasionally dressed as a man so I could sneak in and hear them, too.”
“Brilliant gel,” said Sudler with a fond smile. “Far smarter than any of the young fribbles at the university.”
“We met at several soirees and became close. Since then, we’ve corresponded regularly, and he’s often visited our estate,” she went on. “I’ve been helping him for several years on thinking through the concept of his mechanical Computing Engine and what mathematical operations it could possibly perform. When I began planning to start my own business, we designed some practical tests on how to put its power into practice.”
Cordelia cleared her throat with a cough. “For now, suffice it to say, we can run certain basic computations at a speed that provides an edge in making certain business transactions. However, the full capabilities of the Computing Engine are still theoretical. It will take years to figure out the final design.”
