He followed her out onto the landing, leaving Ada slumped in her seat, staring down at her hands.
Cherise pulled the door shut and folded her arms under her considerable bosom. “You stupid oaf, you have all the charm of old fish guts.”
Edison’s mouth worked, but words eluded him. Which was likely not a bad thing, considering.
Cherise paced back and forth in the hallway, her steps short and choppy and uncharacteristically graceless. “You cut her off at the knees. What were you thinking?” She held out a hand, blocking any response. “Nevermind. You need to fix this.”
Edison could only nod.
“For the first time in her life, I’ll wager, that woman feels feminine. She feels alive and beautiful and desirable. And you had to poke a pin in it.”
“I know. I…” He crushed the newspaper in his hand. “It’s not exactly what I meant.”
“I should hope not.”
Cherise’s maid slipped out the door and glared before heading down the stairs.
Edison squeezed his eyes shut. He deserved it, he knew. But how to repair this? He raked a hand through his hair. He could build automatons, construct smoke bombs and flash bombs and secret recorders no bigger than a button. But he didn’t have the sense to think before he spoke.
Cherise shoved him toward the door. “So get back in there and fix it.”
“But what should I—?”
“You’ll have to figure that out for yourself. I can only work so much magic.” Cherise flapped her hands at him and stalked off.
Now alone in the hallway, Edison stared at the door. Even through inches of walnut paneling, he could feel Ada’s hurt. Hurt he’d caused her.
The very thought bruised his heart.
It took a great deal of self discipline not to kick the baseboard. What an overstuffed buffoon.
He needed help. Guidance. What would Crane say in a situation like this? The man had always had an inordinately smooth tongue.
If only he could channel Spencer Crane’s essence, his charm. He closed his eyes and prayed for inspiration.
The only answer to his wish was Cherise’s voice floating up from below. “Bloody idiot.”
It was down to him, and his horrid grasp of the fairer sex.
He counted to three and forced himself to open the door. “Ada?”
A wet snuffle came from the bed.
Heedless of her new dress, Ada had flopped backwards on the bed, her knees hinged over the edge of the mattress. Her stockinged feet dangled high above the floor, looking childlike, and strangely vulnerable.
Edison exhaled, as if he’d taken a rounder to the gut. He felt as if he’d trod on a blooming rose, crushing it into the pavement.
If he’d hurt her, Briar would berate him at high volume and hurl deadly sharp objects in his direction until she was spent.
Meena would sling icy looks and cut him to ribbons with her wit.
Then the storm would pass and they’d forgive him.
But they knew he loved them. He might be a great stuffed bear of a man with cotton wool for a heart, but they knew he’d never trod on their feelings with intent or malice.
Ada didn’t know him well enough to realize he was more of a giant baboon than he appeared.
Perhaps he could dissuade her of that impression.
He approached cautiously, on the alert for flying objects, but Ada lay still as a board, arms at her sides. Only the slight shudder in her chest told him she realized he was there.
Though her eyes were closed, tears ran down her temples.
He wanted to hold her. To take away the stinging words, but her rigid posture suggested that wouldn’t be welcome.
So he eased himself onto the bed next to her, careful not to touch, and mirrored her posture, legs hanging off the end of the bed, arms straight at his side, and stared up at the mirror that ran the length of the canopy above.
He’d forgotten how inventive, how uninhibited, Cherise could be.
A bark of laughter bubbled up, but he clamped down on it before it could exit his mouth. Even he knew that would be like throwing kerosine on an open flame.
Ada hadn’t stirred. She didn’t flinch, didn’t inch away. Her eyelids didn’t so much as flutter.
Edison sighed. He stared up at their reflections. “I apologize.”
Nothing.
He cleared his throat. “That was insensitive of me. You look beautiful, so beautiful that words escaped me.”
Eyes still closed, she snorted.
Edison tapped his feet on the ground. “It’s the truth. You are beautiful.”
Still no movement next to him.
“Ada, look at me.”
Another great sigh seemed to press her further into the bed, but her eyes fluttered open.
She met his gaze in the mirror. “This bed is quite wicked.”
Edison’s heart sped up. She’d just given him a sliver of wiggle room. He intended to take it. “It is at that.”
“Have you ever…?”
“No,” he answered quickly. “When I knew Cherise, she wasn’t installed in such grand quarters.”
“So it’s been some time since…?”
“Years.” He smiled at her in the mirror. “I was nothing but a headstrong guttersnipe when we knew each other.”
“And she was the girl everyone wanted.”
The wistful tone in her voice squeezed his heart.
Her gaze still locked with his, Ada wiped away the tracks of her tears, then let her arms flop back to her sides.
Edison tightened his fingers around the paper. The crackle of the pages contracting sounded too loud, too sharp in the quiet room. Now was his chance. She’d left him an opening to say something profound and healing.
He had nothing.
He clenched his jaw.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I must look a fright. Had to be a shock.”
Though her tone was thoroughly reasonable, she still looked so sad, so… bruised.
“I appreciate the effort. I do, but I’m just not this sort of woman.” Ada sighed. “You were only being honest.”
“I was being a horse’s ass.”
“You looked shocked.”
“No!” Edison jerked in denial, shaking the entire bed. Then he forced himself to lay back and caught her gaze again. “I mean, yes… but it was a good kind of shock.”
She snorted. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Make me feel desirable. It’s not part of the job.”
Edison slammed his fist down on the mattress. “Part of the job?”
Blasted hell. How could she not see the signs? She’d been heating his blood since the second she charged into her laboratory that night.
He pinned her gaze in the mirror above. “My desire—as you say—is not part of the job. And while that… confection sets off your attributes perfectly, it’s the woman in it I’m interested in. Have been since the beginning.” He smiled gently. “Whether you’re wearing a satin gown or a lab smock, you have my undivided attention, Mrs. Templeton.”
“Thank you for saying that, but it isn’t necessary.” She looked away, clearly trying to shrug off the hurt. “I don’t wish to put you in an awkward position.”
Edison didn’t respond with words. He let his gaze rove over the sensual beauty caught in the glass above—as if he wanted to devour her.