Page 20

Drake chuckled. “A shower bath? What is that?”

Sutton shrugged. “You pull a lever and a cascade of water falls over you from above. Simple enough. Don’t see the point in it when you have a perfectly functioning bath, though.”

The Mad Duke laughed. “It is remarkably refreshing, I assure you. I have one installed in my house. There is no need to heat water for hours. Ten seconds, and all the sleep is gone. You’re all ready for the day to come. The bath is still needed, of course, but this is a rather quick and refreshing way to start the day.”

Lucien Drake frowned. “Seems a strange thing. Why would one wish to stand under a bucket of water like a stable lad? Far better to take one’s time and bathe properly.”

Caldwell sat a little straighter, thoughtful. A shower bath. Of course. How had he not thought of it before? He’d read about the idea once but had never seen it in person. “You have one installed?” he asked. “I should like to see it.”

“Absolutely,” the Mad Duke said, pleased. “I’ll show it to you after we are finished here.”

“Worth investing in?” St. Clare raised a brow.

“No. The patent already belongs to someone else,” Caldwell dismissed offhandedly. “I read about it ages ago. But with a few tweaks, it might just be what my nephew needs. He refuses to sit in a steaming bath. One needs to drag him kicking and screaming.”

“Talking about investments, are you?” A gentleman poked his head in without a knock or invitation. He stepped inside, exchanging handshakes with the men at the table. “Caldwell, I thought I heard your voice. A pleasure to see you join society once more.”

“Right.” Caldwell cleared his throat, finally recognizing the man. The Earl of Bradshaw. They’d met only a few times before. “Good to see you, Bradshaw.”

“I hear you are hosting a ball soon. Haven’t received my invitation yet,” he said pointedly.

Caldwell leaned back in his chair. Bradshaw was not someone he associated with. The earl was about a decade and a half older than every man in the room; therefore, a slightly different generation. He was not truly interested in science either and was against many bills Caldwell advocated for. They were not friendly, yet cordial.

Caldwell shrugged. “My great-aunt is in charge of invitations. But it’s an intimate affair. Only the closest circle is invited. I am sure once my household gets more accustomed to hosting, the next ball will include the entire ton.”

“Ah, that old hag. No wonder. She never liked me much—”

“Nobody likes you, Bradshaw,” the Mad Duke interjected.

“—didn’t approve of me courting her granddaughter,” he continued as though never having heard the duke speak. “How is Cecily?”

“Married to an Austrian count,” Caldwell said curtly.

“Worked out great then, didn’t it? For me as well and my dear Jane.” He smiled. “But I would love to beg your audience to discuss where to put my money. I see how you’ve made this lot rich. Would love to join in on some of the profits.”

“Absolutely.” Caldwell nodded. “I’m staying in London for the entire season. Call on me in the coming weeks.”

“I shall.” Bradshaw nodded briskly. “Gentlemen.” And with that, he slipped back out.

The Mad Duke wrinkled his nose. “I do not like that man.”

“You barely like anyone,” St. Clare noted drily.

“That is true. But I particularly don’t like him.” Tyrone raised a brow at Caldwell. “Any chance you could give him some poor advice?”

Caldwell gave a tight smile. “I could. But I’d rather have him sponsor something useful. Doesn’t matter who the money comes from so long as the railways get built.”

“I disagree,” the Mad Duke said. “I would choose pettiness every time.”

The men chuckled, then a pause followed.

“Are you coming to my ball, then?” Caldwell finally asked.

“Heavens, no!” Drake made a face as if the idea was torture. “Debutantes and matchmaking mamas? No, thank you. Especially with the Somerville dowager organizing it. I dread seeing that guest list. I am, however, going to the Hades masquerade next month. Are you?”

“Yes,” Tyrone replied.

“Absolutely,” St. Claire echoed, then turned to Caldwell. “How about you?”