A Passion for Pleasure(14)
“Does your uncle make such things only for amusement’s sake?” Sebastian asked, selecting his words with care.
“He makes clocks on occasion, which of course are eminently practical.”
Aha. And Darius had told Sebastian that coding machines contain similar mechanisms as clocks. So if Granville Blake did indeed possess the plans for the blasted thing, then Blake would not discuss it with just anyone.
And if Clara knew about it, she certainly would not come right out and tell him.
Yet.
“But for the most part, yes,” Clara continued. “Uncle Granville invents the automata for his own enjoyment. We are hoping that after Saturday evening’s demonstration, Lady Rossmore will offer her patronage to the museum.”
“Your uncle is seeking a patron?”
“He receives a number of commissions, but a patron is always a benefit,” Clara admitted. “In the meantime…perhaps I ought not to chide poor Mrs. Fox for insisting our guests pay the admission fee.”
“My footman will—”
She laughed—lush, dark purple—a sound so unexpected that Sebastian’s heart twisted with both bewilderment and delight, as if he beheld a rainbow in a thunderstorm. Clara’s eyes crinkled with warmth, and a quick shake of her head made curls of hair dance against her neck.
God, but she was lovely.
“I do hope your footman considers himself fortunate to be entrusted with the care of your purse,” she said. “But really, Mr. Hall, I didn’t intend to cause you any guilt. There is no need for you to pay the fee. Now please, join me for tea before you depart.”
Sebastian followed her to the parlor, his heart still strumming with the echo of her laughter.
Ah, yes. Mustering the desire to charm Clara Winter would require no effort at all. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d so looked forward to something.
What does he want?
Clara concentrated on the task of pouring tea as the question revolved around her mind.
She couldn’t quite believe Sebastian Hall was here solely to view the automata and mechanical toys. She had thought that the case when he first arrived, but his reaction to the inventions was curious at best, as if he appreciated their novelty but had little interest in the technical details of the machinery.
But why else would he want to speak with Uncle Granville? If he were considering commissioning a piece or patronizing the museum, then he would have simply said so.
Wouldn’t he?
A scratching noise made her turn. Sebastian stood before a shelf, studying a copper cricket that rubbed its wings together and produced a sound akin to a nail scraping over glass.
“That’s what I referred to when I said my uncle hasn’t yet perfected the accompaniment of music to his inventions,” Clara explained.
“Clearly.”
“Are you…ah, may I ask the reason you need to speak with him?” Clara placed a cup on the table.
He turned, sliding his hands into his pockets with a pianist’s grace. “Lady Rossmore spoke so highly of his work that I thought to see it for myself.” He glanced back at the cricket. “Perhaps I can offer him advice on the musical component.”
“If you’ll leave your card, I would be happy to give it to my uncle upon his return. I’m certain he’ll contact you straightaway to arrange an appointment.”
She waited for him to agree and take his departure. Instead he stood looking at her, an intense gaze that appeared to contain more than mere scrutiny.
His perusal skimmed over her body, heating her from the inside out like hot cocoa on a snowy night. A tingle of warmth skimmed up her arms. Clara’s heart pulsed, a light, gentle tapping reminding her of raindrops on a windowpane.
Oh, what a pleasure. So different from the thump of dread that constantly beat through her, drowning her in fear. Now, here in this moment with Sebastian Hall watching her with those warm, appreciative brown eyes, a waterfall of light spilled across the black of her soul. His look even seemed powerful enough to soothe her still-blistering knowledge of the court’s final ruling about Wakefield House.
Sebastian stepped closer. His delicious scent filled her nose, sliding into her veins, awakening a spark that spread through her entire body.
Her gaze slipped from his eyes to his mouth. She could not help but be fascinated by the shape of his mouth, the curve of his smile, the tilt of his lips. She wondered how it would feel, that beautiful mouth pressed against hers, his whiskers scraping her cheek.