A Passion for Pleasure(21)

“What do you want?” Clara asked, lifting her dark lashes once again.

His heart thumped hard against his rib cage. “What do I want?”

“From my uncle. From…from me.”

“I—”

She gave a quick, dismissive shake of her head. “Do not tell me you want to understand the functioning of the automata. I saw you try to conceal a yawn at least three times during Uncle Granville’s lengthy discourse.”

“It’s true that I’d rather have been speaking with you.”

“You’d rather have been speaking with anyone, as long as the topic was of interest to you.” She swept a hand behind her head to tuck a lock of hair back into place. “And why do you seek to flatter me so often? Why did you kiss me? What do you want?”

Sebastian fought a brief battle with himself. If he told her the truth, that he was seeking plans for a secret project, she could very well banish him from the museum, and then he’d never find the plans.

On the other hand, this circumventing was getting him nowhere, and he had a better chance with Clara than he did with Granville.

Clara’s eyes steadied on his face. He detected a faint tremor in the full line of her mouth, a tremor she tried to suppress by pressing her lips together.

“I might be able to help you,” she said, “but you must tell me the truth.”

The truth. His right hand flexed, the fingers tightening. No one knew the truth.

Emotions swayed in Clara’s strange eyes. Eyes of a witch, indeed. They pulled him in like an undertow, drawing him toward their fathomless depths. His intention to charm her into revealing her knowledge of the cipher machine faded to transparency. He could no more mislead this woman than he could stay away from her. He no longer wanted to.

He did, however, want to know her secrets. He almost burned with the desire to explore all the pleats and folds of the tumultuous soul he sensed lay beneath her lovely façade.

Sebastian took a breath, felt his pulse pounding in his throat. His brother had asked him to keep a confidence, but Sebastian needed to earn Clara’s trust. And honesty was the only way he could achieve that.

“I am seeking the specifications for a certain machine,” he finally said. “I’ve word that your uncle might have them in his possession. The machine was invented by Jacques Dupree, and I have reason to believe he sent the plans to your uncle shortly before his death.”

“How do you know such a thing?”

He didn’t actually know much of anything. “My younger brother told me about them. He lives in St. Petersburg and corresponded with Monsieur Dupree about his inventions.”

“What type of machine is it?”

“One that transmits telegraphic messages,” Sebastian said. “Apparently in an…innovative fashion.”

“But why would Monsieur Dupree have sent the plans to my uncle?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian admitted. “Darius said it was likely to ensure their safekeeping. You don’t know anything about them?”

“I do not.” Even though her words were forceful, a faint tremble shuddered beneath them. “But if I did, why would I give them to you?”

“I will pay you for them.”

“That decision would be Uncle Granville’s, not mine.” Her gaze slid past him then, and Sebastian sensed the presence of her uncle.

He turned. Granville looked from Clara to him, concern darkening his eyes behind his glasses.

“Everything all right, Clara?” Granville asked.

“Yes.”

Sebastian expected Clara to ask her uncle about the machine’s plans. She didn’t. His eyes met hers. She stared at him, as if willing him not to reveal his intentions. He gave a slight shake of his head. A smile tugged at her lips.

There it was again, that astute gleam in her eyes, as if she was twisting his revelation around in her mind and examining it from all angles. As if she was trying to determine how she might use his goal to her own advantage.

Rather than be unnerved by the thought, an odd warmth spun through Sebastian. By telling Clara about his need for the plans, he sensed he had given her something she sought. And whatever she chose to ask in return, he thought he would surely grant her wish. No matter what it was.



Clara watched Sebastian through the window as he strode down the steps to the waiting carriage. A heavy curtain seemed to part inside her, allowing streamers of light to filter through. The nascent hope she’d experienced since Sebastian Hall had kissed her now bloomed into something tangible and real.