by Affair (lit)
Baxter met his eyes. "I could show you how to deal with bank-
ers and men of business. I would be happy to teach you the various
ways of investing your income. How to employ the people you will require to manage your estates. That kind of thing." "I want nothing from you except the money that is rightfully mine. I am not a child who requires a tutor in finances. There is nothing I can learn from you. Not one damned thing. Is that understood? "
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"Yes."
Hamilton turned back toward the door with an angry, disgusted motion. "I have wasted enough time here today. I have better things to do. "
The door opened just as he reached for the knob. Lambert loomed. He gazed impassively at Baxter. "A somewhat impetuous visitor to see you, sir." "Baxter." Charlotte rushed into the laboratory without waiting for Lambert to finish announcing her. "I must tell you what has just happened. I have had the most amazing . . . Ooomph." She broke off in breathless confusion as she barely avoided a collision with Hamilton. "I beg your pardon, sit, I did not see you there." "I do not believe that you and my half brother were introduce(l last night," Baxter said. "We left the ball somewhat early, if you will recall."
Charlotte glanced at Baxter. A hint of pink tinged her cheeks but he could not decide if the color was the result of her present state of high excitement or because she was remembering her passionate response to him last night. "Yes, we did leave early," she murmured politely. "Allow me to present the Earl of Esherton," Baxter said. "Hamilton, this is my fianc6e, Miss Charlotte Arkendale."
Charlotte smiled warmly at Hamilton. "Your lordship." Baxter watched her sink into an elegant curtsy. "Miss Arkendale." Hamilton's scowl vanished as he took her hand. An unmistakable eagerness lit his eyes. "Lady Trengloss introduced me to your lovely sister last night. I had the very great honor of dancing with her. She is a most charming lady." "In that we are agreed, my lord," Charlotte said.
Baxter cleared his throat. "You have not congratulated me oll
my engagement, Hamilton."
Hamilton's *aw clenched mutinously but the demands of civillirv prevailed. "My apologies. My felicitations to you both. If you will pardon me, I must be on my way."
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-of course," Charlotte said. H,milton'nodded and hurried through the door. Charlotte waited until they were alone. Then she favored Baxter with a bright, approving smile.
-So, you decided to take your brother in hand, after all." She removed her straw bonnet. "Lady Esherton will be greatly relieved, I'm sure. ,.Nqot bloody likely. Hamilton does not want any advice from me.@ Baxter frowned at the clock. "Where the devil have you been, Charlotte? I sent a message around to your house an hour and a half ago. I got a note back from your sister informing me that you were out.
"It is a long story." She turned slowly on her heel, examining the laboratory with an expression of great interest. "So this is where you perform your chemical experiments." "Yes." He watched her walk to the windowsill. "What have you got in these three pots?" "Sweet pea seeds. I'm conducting an experiment to test the efficacy of adding certain minerals to soil that has been worn out from too many plantings."
Charlotte touched the earth in one pot with the tip of her finger. "The seeds have not sprouted." "No," he said. "They may never sprout. That is the way of many such experiments. What is this tale that you wish to tell me?" "It is the most amazing thing." She turned, shimmering with renewed excitement. "I may as well start at the beginning. This morning I had a visit from a lady who claimed to be pregnant with Your child." "What?" "Brace yourself, Baxter. It only gets more interesting."
"You followed that woman back to her house?" Baxter was
stunned. "Confronted her in her own hall? I don't believe this. What a crazed, idiotic, featherbrained thing to do."
"On the contrary. It was the logical thing to do under the
circumstances," Charlotte said soothingly. "I had to discover what
Miss Post was about. Surely you can understand that." "Bloody hell." Beneath his anger, Baxter sensed the raw,
wrenching fear. He made a futile attempt to contain the volatile mix of emotions. He knew he was not reacting in an entirety ra-
tional manner, but he could not stop himself. "How did you dare to
take such a risk? Have you gone mad?"
Charlotte looked honestly baffled by his outrage. "There was no
risk. I merely spoke to her."
"You should have talked to me before you undertook such a
dangerous scheme." He swept out a hand. "I'm supposed to be your
partner. And your bodyguard, devil take it." And your lover, sornu-
thing inside him wanted to add in a loud, clear voice. I'm supposed be your lover, dammit. "But there was no time to send a message around to you, sir.
had to act swiftly or I would have lost sight of Miss Post's carriage.
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Unbelievable. You went after her in a flower cart driven by so, , stranger who could well have proven to be the most dangerous sort Df villain." "I'm quite certain that he was only a boy from the country. I SLISPUCt that very few villains drive through London in flower carts."
-You went straight into the house of the woman who had just atcempted to feed you a fantastic lie. Have you no common sense at
all?" Baxter scowled as he passed the balance stationed on the end of
one of the workbenches. Good God, he was moving about the labor,jtory. He was pacing. He never paced.
The knowledge only served to darken his seething mood. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to continue prowling up and down the aisles between workbenches. He knew that if he paused even
briefly he might succumb to the urge to seize the nearest glass retort aiid hurl it against the wall.
Charlotte had no business taking such risks. She would surely drive him mad before this was over. Her independent, unpredictable nature was a serious threat to his hard-won serenity. He was a
chemist, not a poet. He could not deal with such surges of strong
ernotion.
Last night he had convinced himself that he had found a way to handle the tide of restless desire that Charlotte elicited in him. He had established to his own satisfaction that he was in command of himself and of the situation. He had concluded that it was safe to have an affair.
He had reasoned that the liaison would allow the unstable fires
of passion to burn themselves out in a natural, controlled manner.
The principle was not unlike his practice of using a carefully moni-
tored flame to heat the contents of a flask full of volatile chemicals. So long as one was cautious and careful, no dangerous explosion Nvould r2sult.
In the end the contents of the flask would turn to ashes. He had endured too much during the past twenty-four hours, he
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thought. He had assumed from her response to him that Charlott(@ would be amenable to his suggestion of an affair. But rather than
give him a straightforward answer to his simple question, she had told him that she would consider the matter.
Consider the matter. Of all the bloody nerve. She had left him to
twist in the wind while she dithered.
Then had come that nasty business with the housebreaker. Now he was faced with this morning's crazed escapade. And he was seething. He never seethed. Seething, like pacing,
was a sign of a lack of self-mastery. It was a signal that emotion, rather than reason, ruled one's brain.
It was too much for a serious-minded, methodical, logical sort.
If he had not been a modern man of science he would no doubt have
been tempted to believe that some malign supernatural force had entered his life with the intention of wreaking havoc.
The knowledge that Charlotte had this sort of power over him
stirred the hair on the nape of his neck an
d sent a chill down his spine. "I resent the implication that I have no common sense, Mr. St. Ives." Charlotte's voice was drained of much of her earlier enthusi-
asm. The placating note was gone, too. She was starting to sound annoyed. "I am a mature adult, after all. I have operated my own
business quite successfully for several years. I am no fool."
"I did not say that you were a fool." Damn. One wrong turn
after another, Baxter thought glumly. In another moment the entire experiment would be ruined before it had even been properly begun and he would have no one to blame but himself.
"I'm delighted to hear that," Charlotte said crisply. "I would like to point out that this morning's events occurred because Miss Post heard the rumor that we were engaged to be married."
He paused near the large burning lens stand. "What has that to
do with this?"
She gave him a very direct look. "It was your idea to announce
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this fraudulent engagement of ours and it was the engagement that brought Miss Post to my door with her wild tale. Therefore, I do not see how you can blame me for what transpired. To be perfectly blunt, it was all your fault."
Baxter began to feel hunted. He seized on the one thing that for some irrational reason irritated him the most. "Our engagement is not fraudulent." "Indeed. What would you term it?"
lie searched for words. "It is a stratagem." A fall to distinguish much difference between a stratagem and a fraUd." "Well, I can bloody well tell the difference," he said. "Or have you forgotten already that our engagement is designed to allow us
to move in Society for the purposes of discovering a killer?"
She turned the straw bonnet absently in her hands, her expression suddenly thoughtful. "And a very clever ruse it has proven to be. Only consider. We have got our first real clue thanks to your little stratagem, as you call it." "What clue?"
"Don't you see?" Her eyes sparkled with renewed excitement. "When 1 confronted her, Miss Post as much as admitted that someone had employed her to visit me in the guise of your pregnant paramour. She would not tell me who had done so, but it was evident that her task was to destroy my faith in you." "Obviously." Baxter got a sinking sensation in his stomach. Any number of gently bred women would have believed Miss Post's outlandish story. "Someone went to great pains to end our so-called engageInent," Charlotte continued. "We must ask ourselves why anyone would go to such lengths."
Baxter shoved his fingers through his hair. "Bloody hell." "It would appear that someone does not want the two of us to form a close association."
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"Calm yourself, Charlotte. I doubt very much that this episode with Miss Post has anything to do with our attempt to discover a murderer. "
"What do you mean?"
He exhaled slowly. "I suspect that you were merely the victim of someone's notion of a malicious practical joke."
Charlotte stared at him. "But who would play such a hoax?"
"The first person who comes to mind is my bloody-minded half brother. "
"Hamilton? That's ridiculous."
"A few days ago, I would have agreed with you. There 'IS 11o
great affection between Hamilton and myself, but I had not real-
ized until this morning that he might be Baxter hesitated, still dubious of his own observations and conclusions. "EnvioLis
of me. "
"Envious?"
Baxter recalled the bitter expression he had seen in Hamilton's
eyes when he had described his willftil destruction of his copy of Conversations on Chemistry. "I know it makes no sense, but I got the impression today that he harbors a personal grudge against me." "Why is that?" "I'm not entirely certain," Baxter admitted. "His mother would have influenced his view of me, of course. Maryann has always detested the very sight of me for obvious reasons. But I believe thcre
may be more to Hamilton's dislike. Something beyond the perceived insult to his mother, I mean." "What reasons?"
"His ill will toward me may have to do with the fact that my
father and I spent a good deal of time together working on chernit-A
experiments." Baxter grimaced. "Apparently Father went so far @Is
to inform Hamilton of my small venture on behalf of England d1iring the war. And he once forced Hamilton to read a book I wro@,-,.
Hamilton seemed to resent all that." "I see." Understanding lit Charlotte's eyes. "A younger brothur
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might be jealous of an older brother who had garnered much of their father's admiration and attention."
Another kind of emotion, the old, familiar, cold sensation, rippied through Baxter. It had an oddly calming effect. He knew this feeling well. Unlike the restless anger, this was something he understood and could control. "Hamilton got the title and the estates.
What more can he want? It's not my fault that he didn't share Father's interest in science." "No, it's not your fault, but to a very young man it could be a reason for envy." Charlotte frowned. "However, I cannot see Lord Esherton stooping to such a vicious piece of mischief as hiring a
woman to ruin your engagement." "You barely know Hamilton." "True, but I have sound intuition. Also, Ariel seems quite taken with him and even though she is young, her perceptions about men are generally quite solid, too." "Intuition." Baxter did not trouble to hide the sarcasm in his voice. "Allow me to tell you, Miss Arkendale, intuition is an ex-
tremely poor guide. It is based on emotion, not science. It is not to be trusted."
"Sometimes one has nothing else to go on," she said gently. 'Enough. I shall deal with the problem of Hamilton later." "You cannot be certain that Hamilton was behind Miss Post's
visit.
"It is the most logical assumption," Baxter said. "The point here is that you had no business confronting that strange woman this morning. You had no notion of what you were walking into when you entered her house." "Really, Mr. St. Ives." "Yes, really." He turned and started toward her down an aisle. "Ther,@ will be no more such rash actions on your part while we are engaged in this affair, is that clear?" "I must remind you that I do not take orders from you or
anYone else."
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He stopped a few paces away from her. "That leaves us wid,
small problem, does it not?"
She put her bonnet down on the workbench with a very delibrate movement. "There will be no great difficulty so long as you pj,,@7 your assigned role in this business." "You mean so long as I remember my place, do you not?" "I would not put it in quite those terms." "You had bloody well better not put it in such terms. I'm not your servant, Miss Arkendale." "I did not say that you were. However, I did hire you in t1i, beginning, if you will recall. If it will clarify the situation, I am st I I I prepared to pay you a fee for your services." "You dare to talk to me of a salary? After what occurred between us last night?"
She flushed and glanced uneasily toward the closed door. "There is no need to speak quite so loudly, sir. I can hear you very well." "I never raise my voice. Speaking in a loud voice is an indication
that one cannot control one's temper."
She searched his face. "Yes, I suppose it is."
"Dammit, Charlotte, I will not be treated as though I were YOUr employee." He took two swift strides forward, trapping her against a workbench. "Last night I asked you a question. You have kept tile
dangling long enough. I deserve the courtesy of a reply."
She frowned. "But we are discussing Miss Post." "Devil take Miss Post. I told you, I will deal with her later. Just give me my answer. Will you have an affair with me?"
She stared at him, her unblinking gaze as brilliant as the fabled glow of the Philosopher's Stone. A dreadful silence descended on the
laboratory. Baxter could almost see his own words hanging in tile air, glittering with a dangerous light.
/>
His timing could not have been worse, he thought with bleall despair. It did not take the exquisite sensibilities of a romantic poet to comprehend that one did not ask a woman to become one's lover when one was in the middle of a blazing row with her.
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Charlotte shattered the crystalline silence by delicately clearing her tbroat. "We are discussing our business association here, Mr. St. Ives. What do personal matters have to do with this situation? "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
if he had any sense at all he would step back from the blazing crucible before the explosion occurred. But he could not turn aside. The only thing that mattered now was obtaining a conclusive result to this reckless experiment. "Nothing?" she repeated very softly. "No, that is a damned lie. Our personal situation has everything to do with this. I need an answer, Charlotte. I shall likely go mad if you do not give me one."
Her eyes were suddenly swimming with mystery, full of unfathomable promise. But her voice was remarkably cool. "I vow, St. Ives, you are the most annoying man it has ever been my misfortune to employ. I can see nothing but complications ahead, but, yes, I shall have an affair with you. Now, then, can we please get back to business?"
For a single, unbearable instant, Baxter could not react. She had agreed to the affair.
He was aware that by some incredible good fortune the dangerously overheated crucible had not yet exploded in his hands, but he was as shaken as if his experiment had blown down the very walls.
Charlotte reached up to touch his cheek. "Baxter? Are you ill?' "Very likely." He caught her face between his palms. "If I am, one thing is certain. You are the only one who can supply the elixir I require to cure the fever." "Oh, Baxter." She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms very tightly around his neck. "You are the most amazing, most maddening man."
She kissed him with such fierceness that her teeth scraped against his own. Baxter staggered back a step. He caught her, steadied her, and returned the kiss with a sense of euphoric desperation.
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Her undisguised desire was his final undoing. She wanted It was all that mattered in this moment.
He consigned his self-control to oblivion without a qualm ind savored the great, ravening hunger that roared through his veill's.