Saving the Scientist

by Riley Cole

  Burke sighed. “My bet is the man behind this paid an intermediary to hire those thugs. We’re still a layer away from our real target.”

  “It’s what I would have done,” Spencer said.

  Mouth full of eggs, Edison nodded in agreement.

  “And there’s nothing to learn from the murder site?” Briar asked.

  Burke patted his lips with his serviette. “Not as yet. We know the victim had her neck broken, and three witnesses saw a hired carriage drive off, but I don’t hold out hope we’ll turn up the driver.”

  Meena said something, but Ada couldn’t decipher it. Burke’s mention of the murder started a buzzing in her ears that rose in intensity even as the horrid images of a pale face and a limp body ran through her mind.

  She felt off-balance, as if she could topple straight to the floor. Her face grew hot, then icy cold.

  “Hey miss, you okay?” The boy’s voice sounded muffled, as if it were coming from much farther away than the other side of the table.

  “I think she’s gonna do a facer.”

  * * *

  Edison gripped her shoulders as she swayed toward her plate.

  Large hands firm but gentle, he pulled her back upright.

  “Steady now,” he murmured close to her ear.

  Ada nodded slowly, her vision—and her equilibrium—returning.

  “My apologies.” The tall detective looked pained. “I forget not everyone deals in ugly realities.”

  Ada waved away his expression of regret. “You have nothing to apologize for. I should be the one begging pardon.” She managed a wan smile. “I’m not usually so delicate.”

  “You’re not usually being stalked by a killer,” Meena added.

  “I feel so guilty.” Ada stared down at her empty plate. “That poor woman.”

  The detective shook his head. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, Mrs. Templeton. That beast is the one who should be concerned.” He leaned forward, his eyes bright with a different kind of passion. “We will find him.”

  Spencer and Edison nodded in agreement.

  “He’d better hope you find him before we get our hands on him,” Briar added.

  Despite the guilt still stabbing her in the gut, Ada couldn’t help but grin. A vengeful Briar would be a terrifying sight.

  Murder hadn’t dimmed Edison’s appetite, she noticed. He plowed through an outsized portion of bacon while the conversation continued.

  Across the table, Spencer ticked off points on his fingers. “The hired killers know nothing of use. There are no other clues at the murder scene, and the cottage lease was a dead end.” He tossed down his serviette. “We need a new lead to go on.”

  Burke tilted his chin at her. “Tell me again, who knew the navy men were coming to collect you?”

  Ada shared a look with Edison. “My household, and the men that attended the meeting with the Admiral.”

  “Much of his staff, too, I should think,” Edison added.

  Burke shook his head. “Too many possibilities.”

  “Who would benefit?” Edison asked. “That’s the thing.” He wagged his fork at the group. “The Navy wants to buy it. They won’t care from whom.”

  “Your manufacturer, Grenville, gets his contract from the Navy. He’ll benefit no matter what. He’d have no reason to harm you.” Meena looked at Ada for confirmation.

  “Correct.” Ada stared up at the ceiling, thinking. “I’d like to think it’s Spottswood, the toad. He’d love the accolades, but it doesn’t fit.” She scowled at the elaborate chandelier above the table. “Even with his social connections, I can’t see how he could have known when I was being collected.”

  Burke sat back in his chair. “Let’s try this from a different angle.” He tapped a finger to his lips. “What does our man want?”

  “Money,” Briar answered. “He wants to sell Ada’s device. It’s worth a bloody fortune.”

  Edison tapped a slice of toast on the edge of his plate. “The admiral’s already well-off. Ada’s friend’ll make his own fortune manufacturing the batteries. That leaves the admiral’s staff.”

  “And their staffs,” Meena added.

  “Any of them could be selling information to a nasty character like Spottswood.” Edison let out a great sigh and rubbed his chin. “That puts us back at the start.”

  The boy looked at them all as if they were daft. “Who gives a witch’s arse why this bloke wants Mrs. T’s device? Why don’t you just trap him?”

  The entire company froze, and stared, open-mouthed at the youth. Outside, birds chirped happily, an odd accompaniment to the discussion of mayhem and murder.

  The boy stared at them from behind an ungodly pile of toast. “If this codger thought he could get another chance at the thing, he’d take it, wouldn’t he? He’s already gone all in.”

  Edison shared a look with Spencer and Meena. “The boy’s spot on.” He snapped a slice of toast in two. “We’ll make him come to us.”

  Everyone but Nelly studied the boy with varying degrees of awe.

  Lips pursed in concentration, the little office girl tilted her head. “What happened to your accent? You sound like a public school nob.”

  Panic flickered in his eyes. “I—I—,” he stammered.

  “Good point.” Edison considered the lad. “We never did catch your name.”

  Ada had never seen a face turn green so quickly. The boy looked as if he were about to toss up his meal. Had he a chance in hell of making it out the door, he would have run, of that she was certain.

  “We’re not going to turn you in,” Briar assured him. “Are we?” The pointed look she sent the detective suggested only one correct response.

  Eyes narrowed, the inspector gave the boy a steady look. “As long as there’s no reason to.”

  The boy’s Adam’s apple jerked up and down as he swallowed. “No!"

  “What’s your name then son?” the detective asked, his voice gentle.

  The boy bent his head, obscuring his face behind a curtain of black hair. “Henry,” he mumbled finally.

  “Henry…?”

  “Atkins.” He licked his lips. “Henry Atkins.”

  Having survived without being arrested on the spot, Henry folded his arms across his chest. A toss of his head swept thick hair back out of his eyes. The tilt of his chin suggested he was regaining some of his former bravado. “But I ain’t tellin’ you where I’m from.”

  His street accent had reappeared as well.

  Ada caught the knowing look that bounced between the league members. It ended with a tiny nod from Meena to her husband.

  Spencer folded his arms over his chest and considered the boy. “How old are you, Mr. Atkins?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “Old enough.” Spencer grinned. “So then, Mr. Atkins, how’d you like a position?”

  The boy’s mouth dropped open.

  Nelly grumbled. “It’s only temporary.” She pinned him to his seat with a glare. “The Restitution League’s tip top. We’ve got special talents. Every one of us. You’ll have a mountain of proving to do if ya wanna stay.”

  Still speechless, the boy could only nod.

  The relief in his eyes tugged at Ada’s heart. Whatever side of the street the lad hailed from, he hungered to belong.

  Under the guise of eating her toast, she studied Edison and his family. How had she failed to notice how lonely and quiet and rigidly predictable her life had become?

  Maybe, like young Henry, she could grab a bit of that belonging for herself.

  Temporary as it would be, she’d take that balm and hold it to her heart.

  Chapter 17

  “Are you going to eat that?” Edison’s hand hovered over the last of Ada’s bacon.

  She slid her plate toward him. “Be my guest.”

  Ada studied his well-made hands, his strong chin, his beautiful mouth, as he tucked into her food. There was no time to waste. She might never belong anywhere but her laboratory, but for now, she c
ould pretend.

  If she could convince Edison to play along.

  An evil smile threatened to bloom. She tamped it down with ruthless efficiency.

  Edison knew stealth. It drove his inventions.

  Being on the receiving end might do him good.

  She allowed a small smile to surface. Silently, and with the utmost deliberation, she pressed her leg against his beneath the tablecloth.

  He inched away, as if believing the touch had been accidental, but she followed, increasing the pressure, until she could feel the warmth from his skin through her skirts.

  His breath hitched in his throat.

  When she rubbed her foot up and down his calf, the hitch morphed into a gusty exhale.

  He dropped his last slice of bacon.

  But he didn’t pull away.

  His leg leaned into hers, allowing her to massage his calf with her instep. Above the table, both she and Edison appeared to be giving the ongoing conversation their utmost attention.

  “Thanks to Henry here, we’ve got something to go on,” Inspector Burke was saying. “We just need to decide how best to dangle Mrs. Templeton’s battery as bait.”

  “How do we ensure the killer hears about it?” Meena asked.

  Briar snapped her fingers. “Offer it for sale.”

  “We could put out that it’s been stolen,” the inspector said. “That way it would be in the papers.”

  Edison stopped, mid-chew, and shook his head. “We go back to the beginning.”

  He spread his hands wide as if framing a picture with his half-eaten slice. “It started at the Admiralty. That’s where we’ll finish it.”

  “What do you mean?” Meena asked.

  While Edison paused to formulate his answer, Ada took the opportunity to run her hand down his thigh. She cupped his knee, massaging the hard muscles of his lower thigh with the heel of her hand.

  “I’ll request a meeting,” Edison explained, an odd break in his voice. He cleared his throat. “Make certain the staff and all the lackeys know I’m coming.”

  While the others nodded, Edison slid his own hand beneath the table.

  Ada bit back a gasp. That very hand now rested at the juncture of her thighs. His fingers pressed into the crevasse between her legs, requesting entrance.

  Her breath came faster as her skin flushed with heat. She let her thighs fall open, welcoming his caress.

  His skills at this game of seduction far outstripped her own. She’d forgotten that.

  As if he were reading her thoughts, Edison shot her a teasing look. Then he grinned like a school boy who’d just made the game-winning score, and slowly, languidly, brought his hand back to the table top.

  Body aflame, Ada inched away from him. Playing with fire required skills she didn’t possess.

  Ada took a moment to calm her breathing, to allow the flashes of heat surging through her body to dissipate before she delved back into the world around the dining table.

  Burke was staring out into the room, his brow creased in thought. “Take the game back to the beginning indeed.” He nodded firmly. “It’s a solid move.”

  “Brilliant,” Spencer agreed.

  “It’ll have to be you,” Meena said to Edison. “You were there from the first.”

  “Makes sense,” he agreed.

  “What are you talking about?” Ada asked, once it became clear no one had thought to fill her in.

  “Edison’s going to be the bait,” Briar explained. “He’s the only one—besides you—who could have it now.”

  “Of course.” Ada felt decidedly thick-headed. She should have known that.

  “It’s been a very long week,” Edison said. “Hard to keep up.” He patted her hand as if consoling an elderly pet. “We’ll let the old man know I’ve got the device,” he said to the others. “I’ll make sure to be seen heading in and out.”

  “If you need a coachman, I’m your fellow,” Henry said.

  “It would add a good touch. Make me look the part.” Edison grinned at the boy, who sat up straighter, like a limp plant soaking up water.

  Briar batted her eyes at her brother. “And what part would that be? You’d make a terrible solicitor. I’d venture to guess you can’t even spell it.”

  Edison feinted, as if planning to launch his last bit of scone at her, but before the pastry left his fingers, the business end of a small knife pinned his sleeve to the table with a distinct thunk.

  Ada gasped.

  Henry jerked back in his seat, a broad grin showing a pleasing set of white teeth. “Cor! That’s a bit of all right.”

  None of the others batted an eye.

  Edison yanked the knife out of the wood and set it calmly next to his plate. He inspected the small cut in his shirtsleeve and glowered at his sister. “This is my favorite shirt.”

  Clearly immune to his intimidating glare, Briar brushed a golden curls off of her shoulder. “It’ll end up in the rag bin in a week anyway. They always do.” She caught Ada’s gaze. “He’ll stain it or rent it or set it on fire.”

  Edison closed his eyes. A grand sigh escaped him, as if the weight of his existence was all too much.

  Meena shared an amused look with her husband, then she pushed her chair back and rose to collect the breakfast plates.

  Which reminded Ada that their household help was currently babysitting her addled dear of a grandmother. She jumped up. “You prepared the meal. I can scrub the dishes.”

  While Ada and Meena cleared the dishes, the rest of the group continued planning for Edison’s meeting with the Admiral.

  “Do we sneak in on him at home?” Ada heard Spencer ask.

  “No,” Edison replied. “The Admiralty. We want everyone who knew about Ada’s device to see me.”

  Ada stopped on her way into the kitchen. “Shouldn’t I go then?”

  “Too dangerous,” Edison answered quickly. “Our man knows you’re alive, but he can’t be certain you still have the battery. I want to keep it that way.”

  “We’ll put it out that Edison has… acquired it.” Spencer threaded his fingers together and thrust his arms out in a great stretch. “And he’s ready to sell.”

  “Exactly,” Edison agreed.

  “But—" Ada started to interject, but thought better of it. Letting this roomful of people continue to put themselves in danger because of her didn’t sit well.

  She wanted to help.

  Wanted to take on the risk.

  But in doing so, she’d only put them in further jeopardy. She understood that now.

  As with her attempts at seduction, she had little experience in this world of greed and violence.

  Best let the experts guide her.

  She scooped up the butter dish and the empty bacon plate.

  Meena was watching her. When Ada looked her way, she smiled. “This is what we do, what we’ve been trained for since we were in the nursery. We’re quite good at it.”

  Ada eyed Briar’s knife. “You’re spectacularly good at it. I only wish I could help.”

  “Oh you can help. I have need of your particular… talents,” Edison said. “I can’t wait to get you in my workshop.”

  When the double meaning in his words registered, her cheeks pinked. Every cell in her body buzzed with anticipation.

  It was a wonder the heat between them didn’t set the entire room ablaze. Especially when Edison sent her a wicked little grin.

  A grin promising full revenge for her teasing.

  Only luck explained why the stack of plates in her hand didn’t slide straight to the floor.

  Ada tightened her grasp on the stack of dishes and scurried off to the kitchen like a mouse being stalked by a very large, very hungry cat.

  Meena stood at the sink, her back to the door.

  “There’s much left to plan,” Ada said. “I can finish here.”

  “That’s very generous.” Meena grabbed a well-worn apron from a peg by the back door and handed it to Ada.

  Suddenly shy shari
ng the space with Edison’s cousin, Ada concentrated on tying the apron strings tight.

  When she looked up, Meena was gone, but Edison lounged in the doorway. The thin linen of his shirtsleeves allowed her to see the outline of his well-muscled arms. The unbuttoned waistcoat showed off the taut power of his flat abdomen.

  He’d eaten a king’s feast for breakfast, but he was eying her as if she were dessert.

  “That was a bold move, Mrs. Templeton.”

  Ada lifted her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. “I had to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “If you..." She stopped, unwilling to give voice to her fears.

  “Know what?” he insisted.

  Ada blew out a huge breath, trying to rid herself of her sudden timidity. “I had to know if you still have the same…” She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t risk seeing the ridicule in his eyes if she’d been mistaken.

  His mouth dropped open. “After what we just did?” He spared a glance back over his shoulder toward the parlor before lowering his voice. “Are you asking me if I still want you?”

  Ada twisted her hands up in the apron. All she could manage was a small nod.

  Edison pressed his hands into the edges of the doorframe.

  “I’m rather new at this,” she admitted. “Ever since your family returned, you’ve been distant. I thought you’d come to your senses, that you realized…"

  His gaze never leaving hers, Edison moved forward, until only the width of the kitchen table separated them.

  He pressed his hands into the wooden top. “Whatever you and I are playing at, never doubt that I want you.”

  Ada tried to shrug, as if the matter was of little consequence. “I know you’re greatly experienced at bedplay.” The last few words were barely above a whisper. She paused to take in a fortifying breath. “I have no idea how long men continue to desire—”

  Edison tossed his head back. “Desire?” He pinned her with his enigmatic gaze. “What I desire is you.”

  He spread his fingers wide, leaning closer. “I want to kiss you, to feel your sweet lips opening beneath mine. I want to unbutton that ridiculous gown and kiss every inch of skin as it’s bared to the light.”

  “Once I have you undressed, I want to unpin your hair, to wrap my hands in it while I bend you back over this table and spread your thighs.”