Heiress in Red Silk, Hunter, Madeline [good beach reads TXT] 📗

kiss. “How boring.” He eyed the cake. “We could bring this into the bedchamber.”

“We agreed none of that here. That is for Chapel Street and this is for the enterprise.” She glanced at the papers again. “And whatever else you are doing.”

“I didn’t think we had anything to discuss about the enterprise. Our next steps are set. We are having another gauge made and will test the two pieces together as soon as it is finished.”

“Of course.”

He saw hesitation in her eyes and manner. She bit her lower lip. Usually that aroused him, but this time it made him cautious.

“You are looking like a guilty child, and not only because cake crumbs are on your lips.”

She wiped her mouth. “I have done something you are not going to like.”

“There is only one thing you could do that I wouldn’t like, Rosamund.”

She took his hand. “That is sweet, but it is not true. In fact, you may prefer that. You see, four days ago, I went to visit Mr. Lovelace at his place of business.”

She was right. He didn’t like this. “Why?”

“I think you should have listened to what he wanted to say. So I did instead.”

“I made it clear that I wasn’t interested.”

“And I was equally clear that I was. I think his proposal is worth considering.”

He stood and paced away. “Did you tell him everything you know?”

“Of course not. How dare you accuse me of that.”

He turned on her. “Because a man can’t have a proposal unless he knows what in hell he is proposing about.” He paused while he leashed his temper. “Even if you spoke of an indicator, he would guess most of the rest.”

She stood as well, with eyes narrowed. “Well, I didn’t. Nor could I say anything that would give him clues, because I don’t understand how the damned thing works. He is not stupid, however. He knows the industry. He could have figured out what you have without one word from anyone.”

“Unlikely.”

“Very likely. I know that to your mind you are the smartest person alive, but others are also thinking and inventing. He was most explicit about that.”

His jaw was so tight, it affected his neck and whole head. He did not see the woman he desired right now. He saw an interfering woman who had ignored his judgment and held conversations behind his back.

Her expression softened. She came over to him. “He wrote it all out. Just read it. You can still reject it if you want. I can’t stop you.”

“But you would if you could, is that what you are saying? You do not trust me to see this through.”

“It isn’t about trust, Kevin. It is about being practical. This is past thinking now. It is time for acting, for making this thing and having it available for use. It could take us a year if we proceed on our own. Maybe longer. How much better for someone else to help, so it happens right away.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Already your mind is moving on to other things. Wonderful things, I’m sure. Brilliant ones. This invention will have to be shared with someone in order to be made, and I like and trust Mr. Lovelace.”

He looked down at her hand. That touch brought him halfway to sanity, but no farther. “What does he want?”

“If you read the proposal—”

“What in hell does he want?”

Her hand fell away. She stepped back as if he had hit her. She blinked once, then assumed a firm expression.

“Two companies. The one that we have, then his. We would own part of his, and he would own part of ours.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” she said, her voice rising. “For the love of grace, Kevin, his is busy and successful and ours is still a dream. It is more than fair.”

“I did not spend three years doing this to hand it to someone else.”

“No one is asking you to. Right now, all I am asking is that you consider it, and visit his works to see what they do there. I think you will find that they have the precision you say we need.”

“Are you an engineer now, as well as being a common hat maker? Stop interfering in things you know nothing about and are incapable of understanding. Damnation, sometimes I think I would have been better off if that half had gone to my fool relatives.”

He threw that out to silence her relentless harping. He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth.

She gazed at him silently for a long time. Moment by moment, bit by bit, the warmth left her, along with the anger. By the time she turned and strode out, she might have been looking at a stranger.

* * *

“Would you like to dine here, sir? It is too late for me to cook, but I could bring something back from a tavern.”

The voice pulled Kevin from his thoughts. He noticed the day had waned and deep twilight showed. He must have been distracted for hours.

Unpleasant thoughts could do that as well as contemplations about probabilities or pipes did. He had veered between fury and regret, over and over. Now Brigsby stood in front of him, looking suspiciously sympathetic. The man had probably heard the argument, even if he hopefully had not made out the actual words.

He faced a choice. Stay here or return to Chapel Street.

“Get something in. I’ll be here tonight.”

He told himself he was not being a coward. His head was still too hot to talk to Rosamund again.

The next morning, he woke feeling at least halfway normal. A tasteless meal and half a bottle of wine had gone far to dulling his mind. Sleep had finally come, although the chaos did not leave him.

Brigsby insisted on helping him dress and had even ventured into the bedchamber to retrieve his shirt and cravat for ironing. A breakfast waited that helped his mood. Finally, he went to the stable in the mews for his horse.

It