“It would be useful if water no longer had to be hauled upstairs in jugs or buckets.” Mrs. Lawson tapped her chin. “Would it be possible to heat it prior to delivery?”
“I wondered the same thing, so I’m actually working on trying to solve that problem. Some upper-class homes already have a copper connected to a hot water heating system. But these depend on thermo syphoning to circulate heat and won’t deliver water as fast as I want.”
“But if you combine this idea with the copper and add the pump you mentioned—”
“Then one should be able to bring hot water to an upstairs bedroom or, if space allows, to a separate bathing room. Of course, one would still need to find a way in which to adjust the temperature so the water isn’t too hot, but I do believe that’s a minor detail.”
Mrs. Lawson stared at him in wonder, and then she said, “Last night you suggested I might think this idea impossible or even foolish. But the fact is, Mr. Dale, I think it’s brilliant.”
James sucked in an unsteady breath. He’d not realized how much her opinion mattered to him until then. His heart tripped over. Not even Michael, West, or Grey had been so supportive. To be sure, they’d patiently listened to his idea, but in the end they’d thought it complicated, too hard to implement, and near impossible to realize. Mrs. Lawson on the other hand marveled at his creativity. Whether achievable or not, she believed in him, and that alone made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
Not that he’d ever be quite so bold, but the sudden enthusiasm pumping through his veins was as hard to ignore as the woman who presently watched him as though he could do whatever he set his mind to.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lawson.”
A sweet pink hue colored her cheeks. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to see your preparatory notes and sketches one day? Or better yet, the final result?”
“How do you know I have notes and sketches?” Truly, the woman confounded him every day for different reasons.
“All inventors do. Do they not?”
His mouth fell open. He’d been many things in his life so far: a son, a brother, a soldier, a husband, a father, and a barrister. But he’d never been an inventor until Mrs. Lawson turned him into one with her blasé remark.
“They’re in London, I’m afraid.”
“Of course they are.” She turned her gaze to the window, though not before he managed to catch a hint of sadness in her expression.
His words, the implication that there would never be another moment like this for them in the future, no shared discourse or exchange of ideas, no notes or sketches for him to show her, and no display of the final result, had hurt her. Because they both knew that once they reached Scotland, this partnership of sorts they’d acquired would end, and they’d each go their separate ways.
Oddly depressed by the notion, James eyed the food beside him. “Care for something to eat?”
She took a moment, perhaps to gather her composure, before she turned back to face him. Eyes brighter than he’d ever seen them, she dealt him a tremulous smile. “As a matter of fact, I would.”
10
As they raced onward, lighter conversation helped pass the time. They spoke about books, their favorite spots in London, and places they’d like to visit. At some point, Wilhelmina’s eyes grew heavy, and when she opened them again, she learned she’d slept for two hours.
“Are you certain I cannot persuade you to let me pay for our food and board tonight?” Mr. Dale asked when they’d agreed to stop for the night at the next inn they reached. It was nearing six o’clock. If they pressed on they would get caught on the road in the dark, subjecting themselves to the hazard of low visibility for the coachman or worse, to highwaymen. So as much as they wished to catch up with their children, they had little choice if they were to travel safely.
“Quite, Mr. Dale. I’d never permit myself to take advantage of any acquaintance in such a way.”
He angled his head and studied her in a contemplative manner. “Surely these last two days make us more than mere acquaintances, Mrs. Lawson. Indeed, I would more readily call you my friend.”
“As honored as I am to hear you say so, I fear you may be fooling us both by suggesting such a thing. For although we may have found a brief reprieve from our differences, you would not wish to be associated with me in public. After all, is that not the basis for this entire journey? To prevent a connection between us?”
“It is. But…”
“But?”
He narrowed his gaze upon her, causing her to shift with sudden discomfort. It was almost as though he saw past her façade to that which she tried to hide from the world. A shiver ran the length of her spine. She stiffened her shoulders and braced herself for what he might say.
“Having gotten to know you better, I find it increasingly hard to believe you are capable of being the unfaithful wife you’ve been portrayed as.”
Fear crept through her until she could scarcely move. All she could do was sit there, frozen in place while holding his gaze. “I assure you, Mr. Dale, I am no saint. You heard the testimonies against me yourself. I saw you in court.”
“Yes. I was there and I will admit my opinion of you was influenced by what I heard. As a barrister, it’s in my nature to judge the evidence, and the evidence against you was certainly damning.”
“So there you have it,” she managed, though the words were not as exacting as she had hoped. “If you don’t mind, I’ve rather enjoyed a reprieve from it all these past two days. If we could continue avoiding the subject until we find our children, I would be grateful.”
