Elena paused inside the doorway. “Hello? Mr. Miller? I’ve brought you dinner.”
No answer. She didn’t hear anything else, either. Had he stepped out? She surmised he might be somewhere in town purchasing supplies. All the better for her, then! She couldn’t wait to begin exploring.
She set the tray down on a nearby worktable. Tools, gears and assorted instruments cluttered its surface. She promptly stuffed a small copper spring into the cuff of her sleeve. There were so many in the pile that Mr. Miller undoubtedly wouldn’t miss it. She shivered at the way it hung so heavily in its new, secret place.
She took a moment to study her surroundings. The general layout resembled nothing she’d ever seen. Industrial-sized windows flooded the place with natural light. She also found two additional work tables, both as cluttered as the first.
Elena rushed over to them. Stacks upon stacks of scientific volumes sat perched on the table, benches and floor. They teetered precipitously, as if a mere sigh would topple them over. She brushed her finger across the embossed title of a thick, dark tome: Theoretical Applications Of Aether. She didn’t know what “aether” was, but it sounded utterly fascinating!
Measuring instruments lay scattered across a sea of paperwork. Some of the papers revealed the inventor’s notes, written in a neat, precise style. Others bore elaborate sketches and designs for mechanical devices. She grinned. She wanted to sit and look at them all day. But reality was something else altogether. Best finish exploring before someone discovers you.
She looked up from the papers and gasped. A daunting, giant metal head occupied a dais at the laboratory’s center, similar in design to Archimedes. Like a monster from a fairy tale, its eerie gaze seemed to peer right into her soul. She walked slowly around it. Wires and rods stuck out from the back, so the inventor must still be working on it. What could be its ultimate purpose?
Other devices populated the laboratory. She strolled deeper inside to better satisfy her curiosity. Engines, half-finished automatons, large factory-type machines, construction tools and a few she couldn’t identify lined the walls. Boilers of all shapes and sizes had been stacked neatly in one corner. With each breath, she detected the tang of metal and the odor of grease.
In the far right corner, a wooden platform rose above everything else. She drank in the sight of two majestic brass wings perched on top. They seemed attached to some type of modified carriage and had a wing span of at least twenty feet. Heavens! Was he building a flying device?
Visions of soaring above the New England countryside filled her head. She spied a set of stairs winding up to the platform. She didn’t see any harm in sitting in the contraption for a spell. So she lifted her skirts and took the first step.
Two hands closed upon her upper arms and yanked her back. “I think not!”
Elena cried out. Stumbling back, she would have fallen if not for the strong arms keeping her upright. She pulled away and whirled around.
The inventor stood before her, a frown marring his handsome features. “What are you doing here? This is private property.”
“My father’s private property, Mr. Miller. May I please remind you that you work for him?”
“And by extension, I work for you. Is that what you mean?”
She glanced up at him coyly. “Well, no, but…Father did not exactly forbid me to come here.”
“So he will not be surprised when I inform him of your visit.”
Mr. Miller crossed his arms. Only then did she become aware that he wasn’t wearing a coat. The way his muscles bunched beneath his white sleeves momentarily distracted her from his inventions. In fact, he looked quite smart in his gold ascot and waistcoat.
“I wouldn’t characterize it quite like that.” Clearing her throat, she gestured at the tray. “Actually, I’m here for a reason. I brought your dinner.”
“So I deduced from the odor of food.” His brows drew together. “That is a servant’s job. And you don’t have a chaperone. Have you no sense of propriety?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I also have a sense of fun. Don’t you?”
“Not when there are machines to design and devices to build. Work I must do—for your father, I might add. I doubt he’d take too kindly to you interrupting.”
She smiled. “That depends on one’s definition of interrupt. I view it more like exploring. What kind of machines are you building?”
The inventor pointed to the door. “I’m busy. Why don’t you ask your father?”
“Because asking you is much more fun.”
“Perhaps you can return another time, under more appropriate circumstances.”
“Please, Mr. Miller, show me one of your inventions! I have no company at the house and I’m terribly bored.”
“Absolutely not. Leave now, Miss Harrington, before you are compromised and I lose my job.” He stalked toward the entrance and gestured outside.
Elena narrowed her eyes. His rejection made her blood boil. She was so very weary of being told what to do, how to dress, how to act, how to speak—day in and day out. No adventure or excitement in her life whatsoever. Even a slug had more intellectual stimulation than she. Her mother had always seemed so melancholic. Elena wondered if she’d felt trapped in that house as well, a slave to her husband’s rigid rules and expectations.
Would her daughter fall prey to the same fate?
“You are not my father,” she muttered.
The inventor gave a quarter turn. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” She plopped down on one of the benches, plucked a book from the top of a stack and flipped it open to a random page. Her eyes scanned words that were completely foreign to her, yet they held an undeniable allure. Though her insides churned with frustration, she maintained a calm voice and demeanor. “It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting, Mr. Miller.”
“I urge you to leave at once, Miss Harrington.”
She browsed the pages slowly, feigning an understanding she didn’t possess. “There, you’ve urged me. The fact is, I’m not leaving until you show me one of your inventions.” She shrugged. “You could drag me out using force, but my, how unseemly.”
He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “If I show you something, will you promptly leave afterward?”
“Of course.”
Elena watched over the top of the book as he reluctantly headed back into the workshop. Angry thuds punctuated his every step. Her lips curled into a triumphant smile.
After rummaging about in a storage cabinet, he returned to the table. With an impatient expression, he extended his right hand.
She closed the book.
“What do we have here?” She leaned forward for a closer look.
A tiny brass device about the size of a ring rested on his palm. Its fat body and six jointed protrusions resembled a beetle. She touched its smooth, shiny back with a gloved finger. “That’s lovely, but what does it do?”
The inventor withdrew a pair of tweezers from a pocket and used it to wind the crank embedded in its underside. The legs began moving.
She stretched out her hand. “May I?”
Daniel sighed. “Do I have a choice in the matter?”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “What do you think?”
He carefully set the mechanical bug on her palm, politely refraining from any physical contact. The device ambled up her arm, the tiny “legs” mimicking the movements of a true insect.
Elena smiled. “How delightful!”
When it reached her shoulder, she giggled at the tickling sensation caused by its miniscule “feet.”
The automaton scrambled to her neck. Quite unexpected! She reached up to grab it, but the little brass bug had other plans. It disappeared beneath her high collar. “Oh, goodness! Why did it misbehave so?”
The inventor’s eyes widened. “I don’t…I designed its movement to be random.” He glanced nervously at the open doors. “You should get it out now.”
She spread her hands.
“How do you suggest I proceed and maintain propriety at the same time?”
Daniel shook his head. “Point taken. Well, let’s give it a moment to emerge on its own.”
The mischievous bug moved down her chest. Its tiny legs pressed against her skin as it skittered about, but the sensation didn’t hurt. It felt…pleasant.
It began crawling across her left breast. Her breath hitched. She’d never thought to…rub anything metallic against the forbidden areas of her body. Perhaps she should try—her large collection certainly offered a variety of choices.
The device explored further. Elena gasped as it came to perch upon her left nipple. How strange—it seemed to have a mind of its own. Was such a thing even possible? The concept sounded fantastical, like the stuff of fairy tales. She wondered if Daniel had meant for the bug to “accidentally” burrow its way beneath her clothing. If so, should she feel excitement or trepidation?
Perhaps both?
The inventor reached out, but stopped short of touching her. The concern on his face seemed genuine. “Are you all right? Is it hurting you?”
She held up a hand. “I’m fine. It’s…”
How could she possibly tell him the brass bug was turning round and round upon the tight, sensitive peak of her breast? A blush heated her neck and face. She avoided his gaze for the moment.
“What is it doing, then?” Daniel was maintaining a respectful distance, but his voice sounded rough and demanding.
The brass bug eventually abandoned her nipple and traveled lower, to her stomach. She squirmed. “It’s beneath my corset,” she whispered.
Daniel’s neck reddened. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
“I’m sorry.” She wriggled in her seat and laughed. “But it tickles!”
“Shh! Keep your voice down. Try and guide it out with your hand.”
Elena twisted around in her seat. “I don’t believe I can, not without disrobing. It’s in too deep.”
“‘Too deep….’” Daniel muttered. He rubbed his palms against his waistcoat. “You have to try. Shift around some more.”
The inventor’s unwavering stare made her tremble. The situation should have been extremely awkward, but instead it exhilarated her. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had such fun.
The brass bug inched ever lower. Where was it headed now? She stood up and gripped the table’s edge. “It’s stuck, no, wait a moment…now the silly creature is on the run again!”
Its tiny, clever legs advanced down her left hip. Then it turned, marching toward her inner thigh. The sensation resembled that of being caressed with a soft feather. Elena grew warm all over, especially in her pelvic area. She felt a strong urge to rub her thighs together, but didn’t dare risk crushing the device.
Daniel stood nearby, still keeping his distance. His gaze shamelessly raked over her body. Was he trying to determine the device’s location by sight alone? He must have known his attempt would be sheer folly.
“You don’t seem unsettled by the intrusion.”
Intrusion. An interesting choice of words, one that spurred all kinds of verboten thoughts.
She moistened her lips. “It’s not one at all. In fact….” she closed her eyes as the device began working its way between her legs. Toward her backside. While the inventor watched her. “If I may be so bold, it’s rather nice.”
An ache bloomed between her legs. She’d experienced the pleasant feeling before, but only sporadically. Now her body seemed to be communicating she had the power to deliberately summon it forth.
What’s happening to me? Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the table harder. She was a lady with a reputation at stake; her upbringing demanded she had to maintain control at all costs. But as her mechanical friend explored her buttocks, an explosion of tingles raced across her skin. Why couldn’t she subdue these feelings? Was surrendering to them her only choice? She shuddered at the implications of doing so.
“Where is it now?” Daniel asked. “Look at me.”
Elena demurely raised her gaze. “I…I should definitely not tell you.”
His eyes darkened with a palpable hunger. “Is it doing something wicked, my little firebrand?”
She gaped at him. Was she ready to have this kind of exchange with a man she barely knew? “What do you mean?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean.”
She did, but wasn’t sure she should admit it. She shook her head.
“Miss Harrington, you are in my workshop with my device strutting about all over your person. Your father may provide the funding, but I’m in charge here. Now answer my question.”
The bold device was charging back toward the front of her thighs. It passed dangerously close to the hot, damp area hidden by her dress and layers upon layers of starched petticoats.
“Yes,” she gasped. “It’s wicked. It’s doing very wicked things to me!”
“Well then, what action will you take to solve your predicament?”
Was he this scientifically methodic all the time? I need relief, not theoretical discourse! But she didn’t dare speak the thought. “I don’t know,” she moaned.
Without thinking, she pressed her pelvis against the table. Elena blinked. The act delivered a surprising amount of relief, so she repeated it. Then again. And again.
Daniel looked on approvingly, his gaze alternating between her face and midsection.
“Mmm,” he rumbled. “I see you found a solution. Do whatever you require to remove my device, Miss Harrington. I insist.”
His challenge made her shiver. Dare she meet it? What if one of the servants came looking for her? If they caught her rubbing against the table…. Daniel was right—she needed to execute her solution, and fast.
“Yes, of course,” she whispered breathlessly. If she shoved her pelvis hard enough, perhaps she could dislodge the automaton. At least, that was her justification for coaxing her body into a heightened state of arousal.
As she moved her hips languorously back and forth, the inventor studied her with unabashed interest. If it weren’t for his new job and her father, would he have taken her to a dark corner and ravished her by now? What kind of peril am I courting with this wanton display? She should stop at once and leave the workshop. She could remove his device in the privacy of her room and return it by messenger.
So why didn’t she?
Despite the danger, she was too far gone. Elena increased her pace. Perspiration moistened her brow. As the brass bug scampered down her right leg, the tightness in her exploded. Her body became a river of crashing, roaring water. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.
“Your perseverance is to be admired.”
Despite the inventor’s seductive tone, she forced her hips to stop moving. Her heart thundered. Now that her body was no longer in the throes of ecstasy, common sense returned. Was she an uncouth commoner, sharing an intimate moment with a man who was practically a stranger? Was he a fool for scandal, risking his livelihood by indulging the curiosity of a young maiden with a dangerously overprotective father?
She promptly sat down and searched beneath her hem for the device. Her hands closed upon the tiny instigator before it could enter her shoe. Elena deposited it on the table quickly, as though it burned. The tiny legs slowed to a stop.
Daniel swept up the device and dropped it into his waistcoat pocket. “There now,” he said. “Are you satisfied?”
She wasn’t sure what to think, let alone say. But fear’s cold fingers crept around her neck, threatening to cut off her breathing. The inventor was a man under her father’s thumb. Could she trust him to keep their encounter a secret?
She assumed a haughty expression to mask her apprehension. “You will not reveal any of this to my father, of course, not if you wish to keep working.”
Daniel shook his head slowly. “Never. He may employ me, but he does not own me.”
She doubted that last part, but nevertheless, his forceful tone reassured her. Later, she would con
template the ease with which he had agreed to keep a secret from her father, and the reason behind it. But now, she had to leave. She’d spent too much time away from the house. And she required time to process the whole surreal experience.
“I must go.” She rose and headed toward the exit. “Thank you for the demonstration, Mr. Miller. Please enjoy your meal.”
She strode away.
“Wait.”
At the sound of his commanding voice, she stopped at the doorway, but didn’t turn around. What could he possibly want? To warn her off again? The thought made her sad. If anyone had the potential to understand her interests, it was Daniel Miller. Why was it so difficult to forge a simple bond with someone whose interests strongly aligned with hers?
She cleared her throat. “Yes?”
The inventor stood at her back. Her nostrils flared at his scent, a mixture of metal, grease and raw masculinity. He angled his mouth toward her ear.
“Come back tomorrow, if you dare,” he murmured. “I’ll show you something even more incredible.”
Chapter Three
The hour approached nine o’clock. Elena sat stiffly at the dining room table with her father. A ray of sunlight streamed through the window on the east side of the room. It stabbed the elaborate brass candelabra on the middle of the long table. The bright reflection made the rest of the room seem positively stygian in comparison.
As usual, Lawrence Harrington insisted she rise according to his schedule and break her fast in his stultifying company, although he would have described it as enriching. The odor of freshly baked muffins, toast and coffee filled the air. A crisp, white tablecloth served as the bedrock for exquisite china and silverware. Servants rotated in and out of the room, seeing to their every need.
Elena slowly ate her poached egg, masking her boredom with a neutral expression. If she kept at it much longer, she feared the skin of her face would crack with the tension.
Sipping her chocolate, she risked a glance at her father while he perused one of the many documents arrayed next to his plate. How long must she endure this abysmal routine? He barely spoke to her during mealtime. She never received any correspondence, and he’d forbidden reading of any kind at the table. She suspected he saw her as nothing more than an acquisition, like a decorative statue. One he could use as a bargaining tool or as leverage in one of his business schemes.
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