“Nor do I.” Amelia smiled, hoping levity would lighten the moment. “I had no idea visiting my editor might prove to be such a dangerous outing.”
Mrs. Fernsby heaved a sigh, her ample bosom rising and falling in the process. “What is the world coming to? Bombs exploding, all over London? It’s terrible.” She returned to the worktable and the lard with a sniff.
Amelia agreed. Itwasterrible. She worried over Henry’s safety even more than she had in the past. Surely the police would soon find out who was behind the trouble. If she’d noticed that man acting oddly, other people might do the same if another bomb was set.
Yet it was impossible to conceive of another bombing before they managed to arrest those involved.
Amelia continued to measure the ingredients, weighing them with unnecessary precision, though the extra effort took enough of her attention to allow her to set aside her concern for a time. Soon they were pouring the soap into the molds to harden, then tidying up the kitchen.
“Well done,” Amelia declared with a satisfied smile.
“Indeed. I’m pleased to have the task done for another few months.” The housekeeper eyed the molds on the table one more time. “Hopefully those won’t be in Mrs. Appleton’s way.”
“I wouldn’t think so.” Amelia wiped her hands. “I’m going to check the supplies for the demonstration at the school to make sure I have everything.”
“Those children are in for a treat.” Mrs. Fernsby smiled. “You’ll create a few budding scientists with your efforts.”
“That is a lovely thought. I certainly hope so.”
Amelia departed to walk upstairs to the laboratory. The idea of inspiring the children’s interest in science delighted her, yet she couldn’t help but think of the scientist behind the bombs. Whoever it was must be highly knowledgeable and intelligent—and ruthless. This wasn’t the first time she’d encountered someone who’d used their scientific talents for evil purposes. A well-known scientist who Amelia had once admired for her work in organic compounds had chosen to use her skills to harm others, her experiments ending in murder. She’d insisted it was for the greater good—to help England.
In Amelia’s mind, her ends didn’t justify the means. The same was true for the person behind the bombs; it was terrifying to think one scientist could do as much damage as an entire army. If only they chose to use their knowledge to help others. To solve the challenges the country faced, rather than creating more of them.
The topic was upsetting, and one she’d never understand.
Amelia gave herself a mental shake, shifting her shoulders to ease the tightness there as she entered her laboratory. There were problems in this world she couldn’t solve, circumstances she couldn’t undo, and people she couldn’t change. Instead she was left to hope that her attempts to lend aid and spread kindness when possible made a difference.
The notion seemed to pale in comparison to those bent on destruction to suit their own agenda.
Forcing her thoughts away from the dark topic, Amelia double-checked her list for the experiments she’d planned and decided she was as ready as she could hope to be. She ventured downstairs to ask Fernsby for help to prepare the items for transport.
“Shall I accompany you, madam?” Fernsby asked after bringing several crates to load her supplies up to the laboratory. “It looks as if you might require aid,” he added as he glanced at the various bottles, beakers, and scales she had gathered.
“I would appreciate that.” It was a relief, in fact. “Aunt Margaret will be there, of course, but I could use another pair of strong hands.”
“You may count on me to act as your assistant in whatever manner necessary.” Fernsby gave a small bow along with his offer.
“Thank you.” Amelia smiled, pleased to think she’d have the older man’s company. It was going to take time before she could venture out without thinking twice of possible danger—though since her husband’s murder, that felt like a constant hum in the background of her mind. For now, she intended to remain watchful and cautious.
With Yvette’s assistance, they carried the crates downstairs to the front hall. Shortly after luncheon, Amelia and Fernsby departed for the school. She kept a careful watch as the hansom cab rumbled along, as did her butler, from the way he studied the passing scenery.
“This is so exciting,” Aunt Margaret proclaimed when they arrived. “The children are beside themselves with anticipation.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” Amelia said, even as nervousness took hold. “I only hope they find the experiments interesting.”
“I have no doubt they will.” Her aunt clasped her arm in a show of support. “Now then, we have the classroom ready for you.”
Amelia and Fernsby followed her up the stairs to the room with several tables that she’d viewed before. She donned the apron she’d brought and set beakers and other supplies on the table. The students would have to take turns with some items, but hopefully the demonstration should still go smoothly.
Before she knew it, the children were filing into the room in a mostly orderly fashion. Agnes and Pudge grinned, eyes gleaming with excitement as they waved at her. Goodness, it was astonishing how dear they had grown.
Much to her relief and delight, the experiments went smoothly. The students listened carefully to her instructions: each one measured the supplies and created a thick paste, which they formed into a red ball. Next, they placed the ball into water, where it soon began to fizz, creating a bright, bubbling foam that slowly dissolved, much to their awe and delight.
“This is amazing, Mrs. Greystone,” Agnes declared as she watched the foam expand.
The young girl looked so different compared to when Amelia had first met her last autumn, when the child had worked as a mudlark on the bank of the Thames. Now her appearance was as neat as a pin: dark hair brushed, clean clothes that fit properly, and no mud in sight. More importantly, happiness and good health glowed in her eyes. Pudge looked much improved as well. Both girls had grown several inches over the last couple ofmonths, thanks to regular meals and the comfort and security of having a roof over their heads. From what Aunt Margaret had told Amelia, they were soaking up every subject the school had to offer.
“I’m pleased you’re enjoying it,” Amelia said. “I’m very proud of you, Agnes, for all you’ve accomplished here.” She glanced at her neighbor, who was never far from her friend. “And you, as well, Pudge.”
