Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(33)

Just as they reached the landing, a dark figure streaked toward the back of the house.

“Got him.” Edison gave chase.

Skirts billowing about her ankles, Ada struggled to keep up. By the time she clattered down the servants’ stairs, her lungs were on fire.

She reached the kitchen just in time to see the dark figure snatch the last of the bread off of the table and sprint out the back door. He was smaller than he seemed upstairs in the dark. And she hadn’t noticed the rucksack slung across his back.

Before Edison could reach him, the slight figure disappeared over the back wall.

Edison latched the door, then ambled back into the kitchen. He stared down at crumbs strewn across the empty table. “I wanted that.”

A weight pressed down on her chest, as if pressing the breath out of her. “Do you think he followed us?”

“No.” Edison headed toward the hallway. “He’s just a street urchin. Had a warm place to bed down until we showed up.”

She prayed he was right. The alternative terrified her.

“If we’d been followed, they would have struck while we were sleeping,” Edison added over his shoulder.

How comforting.

He dove into the library. “He’s been staying here. For quite a while.” He pointed to a chaise in the corner, piled high with blankets. Then he turned to frown at her. “Check your purse.”

“We’ve been here all morning. He wouldn’t be so bold.”

“Care to wager on that?”

Ada ran back up to the dank boudoir. Her purse lay open on the floor below the chest where she’d set it last night. When she picked it up, her stomach churned. Empty. Her change purse, her pencil case, even her silver container of calling cards.

The boy had taken it all.

Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. Silly tears, for her silly card container. In the scheme of things, it mattered not a whit, but she loved that thing. Harrison had presented it to her after her induction into the Chemical Scientists’ Society.

She stared down into the empty bag.

Edison stepped into the room and set a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry about that. Boys like that’ll do anything to survive.”

If one could call bedding down in a deserted mansion without heat or food or companionship surviving. The sad little pile of blankets in the library tugged at her heart.

Suddenly her loss seemed insignificant. “Do you think he’ll return?”

Edison nodded. “He’ll watch the house. Once he’s convinced we’ve scarpered, he’ll be back.”

Absurdly, the thought reassured her. He might be a thief, but the slight build and the youthful energy suggested he was young. And he couldn’t have chosen a life on the streets.

Edison closed in on her. “Are you all right?”

“Of course,” she answered automatically, although the sharp lump growing in her throat suggested otherwise.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

But then he set his hands on her shoulders, and the dam burst. Ada sucked in a shuddering breath as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Don’t believe I am,” she managed to mumble before her shoulders started shaking.

Edison wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. At first she stiffened, resisting the contact, but something inside her broke, and she sagged against him, nestling into his arms.

He squeezed her tight and murmured softly at her temple. “We’ll manage this. I’ve been through worse.”

Ada nodded. The sobs were subsiding. His heart beat strong and steady beneath her cheek. She sighed. “Do you think he’s cold?”

“Who?”

“The boy. Do you think he’s got a warm enough coat?”

His chuckle rumbled through her. “We’ll make certain of it. We need clothes anyway. We’ll pick up a few things for the lad, leave them where he’ll be sure to spot them.”

“Thank you.” Ada pressed her forehead against his chest. Her eyes must be red rimmed now, and swollen. To say nothing of her nose and her tear-stained cheeks.

She sighed and pulled slowly out of his arms. “It seems I require a handkerchief.”

With a flourish good enough for a magician, Edison pulled a white square from his pocket and handed it to her. “Milady.”

Besides drying her tears, the handkerchief provided a good excuse to turn away. Never had she felt so vulnerable. So adrift.

She had no rulebook for this strange world.

Edison would be an exceptional guide, if she’d allow him to lead.

Ada sniffed away the last of her tears. “Well then, Mr. Sweet, what’s our first course of action?”





Chapter 11





“Good to see you, Sweet.” Detective Inspector Caleb Burke held out a hand in greeting. “Got your package last night.” He grinned. “Well wrapped.”

Edison wiped damp palms on the front of his jacket before shaking the detective’s offered hand. He hoped Burke wouldn’t notice the cold sweat trickling down the sides of his face.

He hadn’t expected the station to affect him so. Hadn’t given it a thought until he and Ada pushed through the swinging doors.

The old fears bludgeoned him the minute they crossed the threshold of the Met’s headquarters. Stepping through the low half-door that separated the law-abiding public from the officers’ desks made his heart pound as if a peeler were chasing him down.