Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(20)

Edison didn’t even know him, and he already wanted to give him a good thrashing.

The elegant man executed a small bow. “Good afternoon.” Light eyes sparkled maliciously as he examined the both of them.

“Lord Spottswood.” Ada attempted to fashion the semblance of a smile. She was not, he had to note, very good at it.

“Sweet. Edison Sweet.” He answered the man’s unspoken query. “I’m Mrs. Templeton’s… solicitor.”

Pressure built on the last two toes of his foot. The minx was stepping on him. Edison slid his boot out of harm’s way and ignored her. “In addition to being an accomplished chemist, her business interests are quite complicated.”

“I can only imagine.” Slender, un-calloused fingers gripped a useless-looking excuse for a cane. The man spread his legs wide, rocking back on his heels as if he had all the time in the world to chat. “What brings you to Whitehall? I wasn’t aware there were any lectures at the academy today.” His gaze flicked over Ada’s skirts, his mouth pursing with distaste, as if she were covered in grim. “Any that ladies would be welcome to attend, I mean. It’s rare we have lecturers willing to accommodate those of lesser abilities.” Edison resisted the urge to ball his hands into fists and settled for imagining how gratifying it would feel to flatten the weasel’s delicate nose. Though the man’s query sounded casual, Edison noted the tension in the shoulders, the rigidity of the muscles around the lips.

Spottswood knew Ada had been at the Admiralty. Probably knew exactly why.

Edison’s heart raced. His muscles tingled with added energy, preparing for action. He moved as close to her as was publicly decent.

His instincts were rarely wrong. The man was toying with her.

Ada gave Edison an odd little sideways glance. “I can’t believe you weren’t told.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Told what?”

“How unfortunate no one got word to you.” Ada shook her head sorrowfully. “Mr. Joseph Swan just gave a small talk—a rather exclusive talk—at Admiral Helmsley’s invitation.” She widened her eyes as if astonished. “I cannot believe you were overlooked.”

Her lie pushed him back on his heels. He took a step back and gaped at her. “That’s impossible. I would have known.”

Ada looked thoughtful, or maybe she was trying not to laugh. “Perhaps it was only for working scientists. You theoreticians are so often ignored, are you not? Quite unjust, if you ask me.”

Where the man’s expression not so full of suppressed rage, Edison would have laughed. Her setdown was elegant and spot-on. As it was, he was beginning to worry that she was playing with fire.

The man’s building anger went far beyond that of a typical male threatened by a female far more intelligent than himself. As a peer, he had money and power and access to the sorts of unpleasant characters eager to break bones for a bit of coin.

Like the dark figure that just broke off from a group of clerks strolling down the pavement. Something about the figure’s movements—too quick, too much tension—didn’t match those of a man out for a bit of noontime sun.

The man hurried around the corner and out of sight, which concerned him even more.

“We should go.” He nudged Ada with a discreet elbow. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Spottswood.”

“Lord,” the man corrected with a sneer. “It’s Lord Spottswood.”

Edison touched his forelock. “Great scot. I’m a simpleton. Apologies, my lord.”

The man sent him a scathing glare and stalked off, his cane slashing at imaginary foes.

“Far worse indeed.” Edison turned to Ada. “I knew we men could be thickheaded sots, but I had no idea the fools you have to suffer.”

She gave him a wan smile. “It does wear on one at times.”

Spottswood was already almost to the Old Admiralty building. Edison watched until he disappeared inside. Distance did nothing to ease his concern.

The open spaces fronting Whitehall’s distinguished landmarks suddenly felt too exposed for his liking.

“This meeting was far too coincidental.” No longer concerned with hiding his interest, Edison peered at every figure, every shadow in the vicinity, searching for the mysterious figure. “Spottswood has the means and the motivation to seek your device.”

Ada turned her back on the Admiralty. “He’s jealous. The only thing he’s managed to invent is an automatic stamp licker. Reports are it doesn’t even work as advertised.”

“Jealousy’s a powerful motivator. All the more so when mixed with hate.” He studied the surrounding area, searching for the dark figure. Spottswood could have been setting them up, delaying them until his men could get into position.

Ada stared back at the Admiralty.“He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“Small minded men hate any woman who challenges their superiority.”

“Hmmm. That does put things in a better light. I’m much happier being disdained on general principle.” Ada touched his sleeve. “Thank you for—”

Edison raised his palm, silencing her.

There it was again, a dark-jacketed figure slipping out of sight behind a marble column.

An irritated growl escaped her parted lips. “You were saying? Something about cabbage-headed men?”