Before touching the canisters, the man gave Ada an assessing look. His display of small scales had caught her attention, suggesting there’d be no more argument.
“We can’t forget the sulphur. For the stink bombs,” he answered her silent question.
Ada set down the tiny weights she’d been examining, lining up each finger-sized cylinder of brass in a precise line before she spoke. “What are you preparing for, a siege?”
Maybe. Edison’s shoulders stiffened. The idea hadn’t sounded so silly until she gave it voice. “Over-preparation won’t hurt.”
“It’s your workshop.” Ada shrugged. “I don’t know why I’d have an opinion.”
Because you have an opinion on everything? Edison rubbed the back of his hand back and forth across his lips, ensuring the words remained unspoken.
The look on her face suggested he might as well have said the words out loud. Her gaze dipped. Her lips pressed together so tightly they turned white. But it was the hurt in her eyes that stabbed him. Stabbed him straight in the heart.
Lust, he could handle. Witty byplay, by all means. Tears even… on occasion.
But not hurt.
Seeing her curl into herself like a wounded hedgehog kicked him straight in the gut.
Which was why he steered well clear of women who cared.
Women who cared were women he could hurt.
And that only made him want to run. Run like he’d run instead of helping Robbie.
Edison drummed his fingers on the countertop, silently urging the shopkeeper to pick up the pace. Finally their chemicals were sealed away in their jars and nestled in a box, each one cushioned with old newsprint.
Edison had to restrain himself from grabbing the box straight out of Grimstout’s hands and running out the door. As eager as he to get on with it, Ada preceded him through the doorway and back out onto the street.
Not that the carriage offered any relief.
The boy, Henry, jumped down from the driver’s box and held the door open. Edison was pleased to note the sharp look in the lad’s eye as he checked the surrounding area. Good instincts. The boy continued to impress. Might be a good addition to the league. A pair of strong shoulders and a quick mind for Mr. Hapgood to shape.
Once the boy shut them inside the dark space, the awkwardness between them swelled again until it threatened to choke off the very air. They needed light. Light and noise and a great gathering of others between them.
They needed Meena and Briar. Nelly, too would be quick to dispel the brittle silence.
Anything but the bleak emptiness that had drifted down like one of the city’s noxious brown fogs.
Henry urged the horses out onto the street, and the carriage filled with the clatter of steel wheels over cobblestones.
Still, the silence between them persisted, gnawing at him until it hit a nerve. Edison threw his legs up on the empty bench and crossed his ankles, reclining against the side of the coach and wishing he were as relaxed as he appeared. “That Henry’s a mystery. Accent comes and goes too quickly to place.”
Ada continued to stare out at the night as if he hadn’t spoken. “It’s been hours. Why hasn’t the kidnapper contacted us?”
“It’ll be soon. They won’t contact us until they’ve readied a trap.”
She started, as if poked with a pin. “I hadn’t considered that.”
Edison shrugged, trying to infuse her with some of his own confidence. “No sense grabbing Grenville if they’re not after something else. Much easier to kill him straight off.”
Ada’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened.
He winced. Perhaps his attempt to shore up her confidence had fallen rather short of the mark.
“You’re right.” She nodded, almost to herself. “They have no reason to hurt him until they get what they want.”
Edison wasn’t so certain that was the case, but he held his own counsel. He might not be the smartest of the lot, but he could learn.
Given that the chemical works wasn’t much more than a league from the offices, the trip back seemed quick enough, given that they weren’t speaking.
Edison picked up the box of powders and climbed down first. He held out a hand to Ada, who ignored it and swept past him into the offices.
“You can take the horses around back and water them,” he said to Henry, “but keep them hitched. We’ll be leaving soon, I imagine.”
Once inside, he saw that Burke had arrived. The lanky man perched on the edge of Nelly’s desk, haunches well clear of her prized typing machine.
The rest of the crew was scattered about the room, all of them facing the detective.
“I’ve got men stationed at your home, in case the bastard tries to contact you there.” Burke was saying to Ada.
She nodded as she paced back and forth across the office, her movements so quick, so short and sharp, Edison’s head spun.
He set the box of chemicals down on a countertop. Waiting was the worst part. He wanted to move, to scale a wall, break down a door, punch a villain in the face.
He wanted to make Ada feel better, to erase the worry and hurt in her eyes.
Mostly, he wanted to gather her in his arms and assure her they could spend the rest of their lives wrapped in each other's arms.
Which was nothing but a great, fat lie.
He slammed a fist down on the tabletop so hard one of Nelly’s ink pads bounced and clattered to the floor. Black ink splattered across the something tile, spreading out from the ink-soaked felt.
Her face white, arms wrapped tightly around her, Ada glared at him as if he’d smashed a priceless figurine.
He should leave.
It was obvious his presence was feeding Ada’s frustration.
He grabbed his coat from the rack next to the door, all too eager to breathe some air unadulterated by emotions.
“Forgot the aluminum powder,” he muttered, and yanked the door open.
Henry bolted after him. “I’ll drive you.”
“No need.” Edison held up a hand to halt the boy.
He sympathized. Henry only wished to escape the tension, too. But he needed quiet. “I’ll walk.”
Edison jutted his chin at Crane. “Devices are packed and ready. Ada knows where they are. Bring the coach if anything changes.”
Edison slipped out the door before anyone else asked to join him. Only his inbred sense of decorum kept him from slamming the door.
A few more hours now, and they’d have this business done. Ada would be free to return to her laboratory, to her life. Whether she looked back on their liaison with fondness or regret, he had no doubt she’d forge ahead, making new discoveries. And meeting new men.
Men comfortable in her social circle.
Men comfortable with love.
Things weren’t going to be so easy for him. Much as he wished he could deny it, he feared it would be a long, long time before he stopped wishing were a different man. A man who deserved her.
A freshening wind gusted down the dark street, sending a scrap of newsprint tumbling past his feet. Edison kicked it, but the paper was too light, too insubstantial to offer any satisfaction, which, given the way things were going, was no surprise.
*