“Ah.” He crushed the scrap in his fingers and nodded once. Twice.
A curious ache swelled at the back of his throat, making it impossible to swallow. Impossible to speak. The flames in the lanterns surrounding him seemed to flicker in unison, flaring bright, and then dimming. Flaring. Dimming.
It was nothing less than the result he’d so carefully engineered.
The rhythmic squeak of the cart was muted on the carpeted reception area, but Edison had no difficulty hearing Grenville’s deep wheeze over the sound.
“Kicked you over as well, did she?” The older man tittered like a little girl.
It was a nasty sound. A sound Edison hoped he’d never have to hear again.
He crushed the scrap of paper in his fist. He wouldn’t turn. Wouldn’t give the sweating pig the satisfaction of a response.
“That’s enough out of you,” Burke ordered. “Won’t be anything to laugh about where you’re going. Help me with the doors,” he directed the others.
Feet scuffled about, and Edison felt the rush of cold night air on the back of his neck as the group wheeled Grenville off to meet his fate.
A soft footfall told him he wasn’t alone. He turned to see Nelly in the center of the room. Hands fisted on her hips, mouth set in a straight line, she exuded far more disapproval than such a slight form had a right to. “For a right charmer, you’re dumber than a sack o’coal when it comes to romantical situations.”
Edison shrugged. “We wouldn’t suit.”
Nelly snorted. “Says you.”
“She’s refined. And brilliant.” He stubbed the toe of his boot into the floral carpet. “She deserves far better than me.”
“Who says that’s your decision to make?” Nelly shook her head, as if he were the worst of lost causes. “Seems to me a lady smart enough to make this device is smart enough to know her own mind.”
Edison sliced his hands through the air. “It’s not that simple. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
Nelly laughed. “Nice try, that.” She moved toward him, her penetrating gaze locked onto his face. “I think you’re scared.”
Edison rolled his eyes.
“You are.” Hands on her hips, she peered up at him. “I can see it in yer eyes. You only think she wouldn’t want you.” Nelly smiled grimly. “It’s quite another sack of turnips to know she doesn’t. For real like, I mean.”
She backed away, shaking her head in disgust. “Never thought I’d see the like. A big, strong bloke like you afraid of gettin’ his heart banged about.”
She turned on her heel and made to follow the others outside.
“Wait,” Edison called out.
Nelly stopped, her back still to him.
“You’ve got a lot of sense for a slip of a thing,” he admitted. “Let’s say you’re right.” He stopped, not sure he could face the answer to his next question. “What do I do now?”
Nelly whirled around. “Use that great gob stuck between yer ears.”
Edison wasn’t sure what to make of that.
She blew out a breath strong enough to sway the hair on her forehead. “Tell her you love her, you idiot.” She flounced off.
Edison clamped his jaw shut and rocked back on his heels. Could it really be that simple?
Of course he loved her. He’d been doomed from the moment she doused him with that tea.
He tossed the crumpled note across the room and wiped his sweating palms down the front of the greasy trousers.
What if she hadn’t been similarly stricken?
Was he man enough to find out?
Chapter 29
Maybe she could run off to America.
Ada slammed the vial of formic acid down on the workbench and rubbed her eyes.
It was the third time she’d added too much acid to the solution. Damnation, this grieving business was playing havoc with her experiments. Had it only been a day since she’d learned her dear friend—her only friend—wanted her dead?
Only a day since she’d taken the coward’s way out and disappeared?
Although Mr. Nance’s latest sensation novel really was too thrilling, not even it could keep the sad thoughts at bay. If anything, the heroine’s journey from put upon servant to strong, accomplished reformer—complete with her very own shining knight—only added to the sharp ache in her heart.
She sank down on the nearest stool. Two restless nights were taking their toll.
The morning sun slanted through the windows across from her workbench, making the bottles and jars sparkle. She’d retreated from the chaos in the house, desperate for quiet as servants returned to work and bustled about setting things to right.
Desperate for a way to scrub away the memories of Edison’s kisses.
Today, though, nothing engaged her. Instead of the quiet comfort her lab usually offered, the neat arrangements of chemicals, potions and oils mocked her. The room felt cold, sterile, as if Edison’s very force had energized it.
She propped an elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand. He’d only spent a few days at her home, mere hours in her workshop. How could seem so empty?
Surely he couldn’t have had such a powerful effect so quickly?
Ada rubbed her tired eyes. She was very much afraid he had.
America might be the ticket.
A long trip across the Pond would distract her. She could visit the Smithsonian Institution and the Philadelphia Society of Electro-chemistry.
Those brash Americans might be more receptive to a female scientist. Foolish not to see for herself. She might just go.
Soon.
Would do, if it weren’t for Grandmama. Ada’s shoulders slumped. She couldn’t drag the poor dear to another continent. And she couldn’t leave Miss Peabody with such a burden.
No, America was out.
Ada moved to the sink and washed her hands, letting the cold water soothe her, refocus her brain.
It didn’t work.
A week ago, she’d had no idea passion was such a potent drug. Now she was addicted.
She wanted to touch him. She wanted to feel that shiver of anticipation as he raised up over her, their legs entwined, while she waited for him to drive into her.
She wanted that sense of belonging, of hope and brightness and love. Wanted it in the worst way imaginable.
But it wouldn’t be with Edison Sweet.
Facts were facts. The man could charm the soul from an angel, but he was positively allergic to relationships.
Nothing for it but to move forward.
Ada set her jaw and returned to her experiment. The jars of chemicals on the countertop waited patiently. She glanced out across the wide lawn. More brown than green now as the frosty autumn mornings chilled them, the stubby blades of grass spiked up from the hard ground.
A dark figure flashed past the library windows. Beecham. Ada sighed. She didn’t have the energy to ignore his stiff disapproval. Best hide out in her lab as long as she could. Once the rest of the staff returned, they’d buffer his acerbic nature.