Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(24)

Behind them, the elderly Mrs. Fogle and her companion descended a sight more slowly.

“Have we missed the parlor games?” the old woman shouted out. “I do so want to play a hand or two of Faro.”

Before the rest of them could react, Meena turned and placed a comforting hand on the lady’s arm. “Not at all, Mrs. Fogle. You haven’t missed a thing.”

The old thing smiled. “That’s grand.”

Meena turned back toward them. “Don’t worry, Ada. We have everything in hand.”

With a quick glance at her grandmother, Ada nodded and moved to follow her escort outside. Carrying the wide basket, Edison negotiated the doorway behind them.

He studied the men, the way they moved, the way the lower ranked swabbies appeared to defer to their superior officer as he ordered them about.

Everything seemed to be on the up and up, but Edison couldn’t shake the odd feeling that niggled at him.

He handed the battery over to the seamen, who set it carefully in the back of the carriage.

Something didn’t feel right.

He eyed the captain who was handing Ada up into the carriage. Tall and well-built, he seemed to have a military bearing. His uniform looked to be in good condition, and it fit him well.

Same with the lower ranked men.

Edison ran a hand over the back of his neck and shuffled his feet. Maybe he wanted there to be something wrong.

Wanted there to be some reason for her to stay.

Rushing around him as if he were nothing but a boulder set in their way, the two seamen strapped Ada’s luggage on the back of the coach while the captain climbed inside.

With Ada.

Edison folded his arms over his chest and tried to appear as if his wasn’t tempted to pull the man out the window by his necktie.

“Ready, Captain,” the larger of the seamen announced.

“Right then. Let’s be off,” the captain directed, and leaned back in his seat.

Ada wrapped her fingers over the open ledge of the window. “Good bye.” She gave him a sad, sweet smile, and waved as the carriage jerked forward.

At least he wanted to think it was a sad smile.

He wanted her to miss him. Stupid, that.

As the coach headed down the drive, he turned back to the house.

He didn’t want her to leave.

The thought stopped him right there at the base of the steps. When had he ever worried about a woman leaving?

He scratched his head. Odd that. But she was, after all, a truly amazing woman.

Amazing enough to account for the empty ache in his stomach, and the hollow feeling in his chest.

But not amazing enough to explain the spark of trouble he sensed.

Something didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

He continued back into the house, letting the events of the morning play over and over, as if he were watching a scene in a play repeat itself over and over. Each time some unnoticed part of his brain picked up on another tiny detail.

By the time he crossed the foyer, Briar had joined the rest of the family in the dining room. “Don’t you look like a ray of sunshine this morning,” she teased.

Mind still replaying every detail of Ada’s leaving, he ignored her, and pulled out a chair. “Something’s not right.”

Meena rolled her eyes. “Because Mrs. Templeton doesn’t find you her cup of tea? Poor boy.”

He sat back, hard enough to make the chair creak. “No, I mean something about them, those men.” He looked over at Spencer. “Wasn’t there something odd?”

His cousin-in-law tapped a finger on his chin, thinking. “I see what you mean. Can’t place it exactly.” He slammed a hand down on the table. “The uniforms.”

“And the shoes.” Edison met the other man’s gaze. “The shoes are wrong. Navy midshipmen wear black half boots. Those blokes—”

“Hobnail boots.” Spencer broke in. “All three of them.”

“Damn it.” Edison jumped up so quickly his chair toppled over.

He raced for the door, Spencer right behind him. As he yanked it open, he thrust out an arm, blocking the other man. “I’ve got this. Best you keep watch here. Once I get her back…”

“They might move on the family.” Spencer kept his voice low. “Understood.”

Edison flew out the door. As he jumped down the steps, he heard Meena’s calming voice. “Don’t fret, Mrs. Templeton. Edison excels at rescues.”





Chapter 8





Terror had faded quickly, along with the feeling in her hands. But fear—plain fear—lingered. It muddled her thinking and dulled her senses.

The rope coiled around her ankles had cut off the last of the blood flowing to her feet, making her toes tingle painfully. Making it hard to think.

If she’d consented to Edison’s offer, she’d be free now.

Granted, there were three of the sods, and they were heavily armed, but she’d seen him fight. Edison would have routed those men in a trice.

They’d be on their way to prison, and she’d be eating a fine luncheon by a warm fire at some companionable inn.

Instead, she was tied to an old wooden chair, contemplating what would befall her when her captors returned. The worst of it was, she had no one to blame but herself. Her need to be away from him, from his mesmerizing sensual energy, had led to this.