Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(57)

The woman she wasn’t ready to abandon.

Once the mirror showed that she was buttoned from one end to the other, without a stray hair out of place, she girded herself for the breakfast table.

Whether the prickly inventor downstairs chose to repeat their mutual performance or not, she could strive to retain the essence of that wild woman.

Dress in order, Ada stalked off down the stairs to face tea and toast and Edison’s boisterous family.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Nelly and the boy standing outside the dining room, deep in conversation.

The boy gripped the doorframe as if braced against a strong wind determined to blow him inside.

“He won’t hurt you,” Nelly insisted.

“‘E’s a crusher. I can’t go in there.”

“He’s one of us.” She raked him with a look. “Besides, you’re nothing but small change to a detective like Inspector Burke. You ain’t done nothing big enough for him to bother gettin’ out his handcuffs.”

“Have too.”

Nelly snorted. “Says you.” She raised her hands in a gesture of frustration. “Do whatcha want, but I’m hungry.” She flounced through the doorway.

Ada watched as the boy struggled to decide between certain incarceration and coddled eggs.

As she would have guessed, sustenance won out.

The Sweets and Detective Burke were already tucking into a fine looking breakfast when she entered. The boy had squeezed himself in between Edison and Spencer, as far away from the dreaded detective as he could sit.

The only open seat was at Edison’s right.

He rose with the other men as she glided through the doorway. He nodded in greeting and went back to buttering his toast.

A simple nod.

No mischievous smile, no clandestine, heat-filled glance. No bloom in his cheeks or fire in his eye.

Ada wilted inside her wrinkled gown. It was only to be expected. All that seductive power she’d wielded hung, unused, in the wardrobe upstairs. Plain, sensible Ada Templeton, chemical scientist, held no allure for a man like him.

The smell of toast and bacon suddenly put her off as her stomach sank down to her feet.

Ada slipped into her seat. Before she could protest, Edison grabbed her plate and loaded it with food from the serving dishes in the center of the table.

He slid it in front of her without a word, his attention on the discussion at hand.

The pile of golden eggs and glistening bacon mocked her. Was he trying to tell her something? Would he have done that for any guest?

Ada blinked down at the innocent-looking food. If there was a secret message to be decoded, she was at a loss.

“That’s it?” Meena was frowning at the detective. “All those ruffians can recall is an average-sized man of average age and average looks?” She let her half-eaten toast drop back onto her plate. “That’s less than helpful.”

Burke sighed. “My bet is the man behind this paid an intermediary to hire those thugs. We’re still a layer away from our real target.”

“It’s what I would have done,” Spencer said.

Mouth full of eggs, Edison nodded in agreement.

“And there’s nothing to learn from the murder site?” Briar asked.

Burke patted his lips with his serviette. “Not as yet. We know the victim had her neck broken, and three witnesses saw a hired carriage drive off, but I don’t hold out hope we’ll turn up the driver.”

Meena said something, but Ada couldn’t decipher it. Burke’s mention of the murder started a buzzing in her ears that rose in intensity even as the horrid images of a pale face and a limp body ran through her mind.

She felt off-balance, as if she could topple straight to the floor. Her face grew hot, then icy cold.

“Hey miss, you okay?” The boy’s voice sounded muffled, as if it were coming from much farther away than the other side of the table.

“I think she’s gonna do a facer.”



*

Edison gripped her shoulders as she swayed toward her plate.

Large hands firm but gentle, he pulled her back upright.

“Steady now,” he murmured close to her ear.

Ada nodded slowly, her vision—and her equilibrium—returning.

“My apologies.” The tall detective looked pained. “I forget not everyone deals in ugly realities.”

Ada waved away his expression of regret. “You have nothing to apologize for. I should be the one begging pardon.” She managed a wan smile. “I’m not usually so delicate.”

“You’re not usually being stalked by a killer,” Meena added.

“I feel so guilty.” Ada stared down at her empty plate. “That poor woman.”

The detective shook his head. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, Mrs. Templeton. That beast is the one who should be concerned.” He leaned forward, his eyes bright with a different kind of passion. “We will find him.”

Spencer and Edison nodded in agreement.

“He’d better hope you find him before we get our hands on him,” Briar added.

Despite the guilt still stabbing her in the gut, Ada couldn’t help but grin. A vengeful Briar would be a terrifying sight.

Murder hadn’t dimmed Edison’s appetite, she noticed. He plowed through an outsized portion of bacon while the conversation continued.