Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(44)

“Rest of the house is clear,” Edison announced. He scooped up one of the sacks and headed for the back door.

“For the boy,” he answered her questioning look. “The lad must be hungry.”

Somehow between the hansom and the kitchen, the desire in his eyes had been extinguished.

How deflating.

Of course there was a criminal to catch.

Ada squared her shoulders. “I’ll make tea.”

Edison nodded.

Despite his renewed gravity, Ada found making tea in her new gown a sensual experience. Striking a match to light the stove, pumping water for the kettle, setting out the mugs, every movement allowed silk and satin to slide across her skin.

Even if she didn’t choose more daring gowns in the future, she resolved to order silk undergarments. Regret tweaked her at all the years she’d spent in sturdy cotton.

The back door closed and Edison reappeared at the table. “That should keep his belly full for awhile.”

“That was kind of you.” She took the kettle off the hob.

Though his gaze didn’t blaze with desire, she was pleased to note that he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her décolletage as she poured the tea.

Once she’d served them both, Edison pulled a folded sheet of newsprint from the inner pocket of his vest. He spread it out on the table and tapped the center column. “Found this while you were… ah…”

“Preparing for my part.”

“Exactly.” He cleared his throat. “Look.” He swung the paper around to face her.

Ada frowned down at the columns of print. It was the advert section. She scanned the notice above his finger.

The more she read, the harder her teeth clenched.



Missing woman: Family members seek news of Mrs. Ada Templeton. Last seen headed toward Derbyshire in a hired carriage. Reward offered for any information leading to Mrs. Templeton’s whereabouts. Advertiser available to meet from 4 to 5pm daily at Barton’s theater through the end of the month. Any assistance in this matter would be most gratefully accepted.



Ada shoved the paper away. “That ballsy bit of goat dung.”

One dark eyebrow rose skyward as Edison studied her over the rim of his mug.

Fury propelled her back into her chair. “It’s the height of poor taste. Now he’s setting the dogs on me.”

She sucked in a breath. “The boy.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You don’t think he figured out—?”

Edison was shaking his head before she finished. “I doubt he can read, let alone afford a paper. You’ve nothing to fear there.”

An eager look—the look of a hunter readying for the chase—brightened his gaze. He tapped the paper. “This lot’s the one who should be afraid. Now we know where to find him. And when. Tomorrow by four pm this piece of refuse will be in irons.”

“Tomorrow?” Ada’s stomach dropped. “Shouldn’t we take a day or two? Construct a plan?”

She was only just learning to test with this strange new power of hers. The urge to see just how far she could goad Edison—how high she could tease the flame—was almost uncontrollable.

She knew herself well enough to accept that this fiery new creature wouldn’t last long. She was only one garment change away from the old, sensible, boring Ada Templeton.

The Ada Templeton who didn’t run hot enough to spark a match, let alone a fire.

Was it so unforgivable that she wanted to play about a bit in this exciting new world?

Ada started to run a hand through her hair, but stopped as her fingers tangled in the new, upswept creation the maid, Annabelle, had fashioned. What was wrong with her? Of course they needed to find this pig as quickly as possible.

Edison seemed unusually preoccupied with stirring his tea.

Her breath caught in her throat. He was trying to find a way to let her down easily. After his last disastrous utterances, the poor man probably feared an overabundance of tears.

Loss squeezed her chest, extinguishing the flame of sensual energy. The transformation, it seemed, was coming sooner than she had hoped.

Nonetheless, she’d learned a few things about herself in the past few hours. She mimicked him, stirring her tea round and round in the mug, watching the liquid swirl. What she would do with this new knowledge remained to be seen.

Edison cleared his throat, catching her attention. Though the set of his mouth suggested the utmost gravity, his eyes were kind. “I do sincerely regret my early response to your new… role.”

Ada brushed off his apology. “You covered all of that quite adequately.”

“Adequately?” He searched her face, his brow creasing in something that might have indicated disappointment. “Your reaction suggested I was far more than adequate.”

And then she caught it.

The desire was back.

His gaze moved from her mouth to the valley between her breasts. Then his lips parted, and she imagined she could feel the heat of his breath on her bare skin. He looked as if he would devour her whole.

She ached for him to touch her. “You did call me ravishing.”

“You are ravishing. You are ravishing in that gown. You are ravishing in any gown. You’d be more ravishing in no gown at all.”

Edison spread his well-made fingers flat on the table, as if taunting her with the possibilities inherent in his touch.