The Inventors Wife Page 4

  She picked up her fork and took a small bite of her strawberry fruit pie slice. Yesterday’s offering had been cherry. Despite the succulent sweet-tart flavor and buttery, flaky crust, she didn’t feel satisfied. Frankly, she’d eat cornmeal mush three times a day if it meant escaping her father’s tyranny.

  Speaking of escape, a week had passed without any opportunity to visit the inventor. Her lessons kept her busy, and her father had spent more time than usual at home. She hadn’t seen Mr. Miller either, not even a glimpse. Despite the opportunity to dine at the main house, he took all of his meals in his workshop. Would he think she’d forgotten his illicit invitation? Did he still hope to surprise her with another invention?

  Elena dutifully swallowed her food. At the rate her life was going, she might never have a chance to find out. Since her mother’s death, every day had been a lesson in torture.

  Harrington cleared his throat. “I’m leaving in an hour for a meeting in Providence. I’ll be gone until late afternoon.”

  She nodded. “Yes, Father.”

  Her heart leapt—she could visit the inventor while her father would be away!

  He shuffled his papers together. “Mr. Washburn would like to call on you this evening.”

  A statement, not a request. Nor did she have any choice in the matter. She masked her irritation by taking a bite of egg.

  Her father drained the last of his coffee. “I’ve invited a few colleagues over for dinner. Their wives too. But I expect you to give Mr. Washburn your particular attention.”

  Arguing with him would only invite his wrath, so she said simply, “Yes, sir.”

  But she quickly lost any remaining appetite.

  * * * *

  After her morning lessons ended, Elena instructed Miss Beaumont to accompany her for a walk about the garden. She was a mousey girl with light brown hair and corn silk blue eyes, who carried a basket of sewing and didn’t question Elena’s request, and neither did Elena explain her reason for the venture.

  At one of the more secluded areas, she ordered Miss Beaumont to sit on a bench. “I must attend to an urgent matter. Please do some sewing and wait for me here.”

  She sat, but gazed up at Elena with a troubled expression. “What if someone sees me? I’d hate for Mrs. Farley to think I’m shirking my duty.”

  “Tell them I went to the house to relieve myself and will return any minute. I’ll cover for you, do not worry.”

  Her assurance seemed to satisfy the young woman, for Miss Beaumont began rummaging through the basket. “I’ll be here waiting for you, Miss Elena.”

  “Thank you.” Elena turned and left the garden. She kept as much vegetation between her and the house as possible. Her heart hammered in her ears as she neared the inventor’s workshop. Would he be pleased to see her?

  Once at the door, she withdrew a handkerchief from the cuff of her new peach-colored dress and wiped the perspiration from her forehead, before smoothing her palm against her spaniel curls, hoping her hair behaved itself in the stifling humidity. With a deep breath, she eased the door open. The workshop sounded different than before—today, it was marked by a noisy orchestra of clanking, hissing and rumbling.

  “Hello?” she called out. “Mr. Miller?”

  When he didn’t immediately appear, she advanced a few steps. She couldn’t risk being seen lingering at the door. But how far inside dare she venture?

  Insatiable curiosity drove her into the inventor’s mysterious domain. She simply had to see what he’d promised to show her.

  The farther in she went, the noisier the workshop became. Entering the belly of the beast required careful navigation since raw materials and half-finished inventions created a metallic maze of epic proportions. Some of the piles towered to the ceiling. Everything about this man was huge, larger-than-life. She very much desired to inhabit such a world.

  She arched her neck, looking upward, only to find herself the object of an automaton’s unsettling gaze. Painted eyes and a fierce visage lent the head a dangerous air despite its haphazardly splayed limbs. She grinned. The inventor had a decidedly unique imagination!

  As she took her next step, her shoe bumped against an object. Elena glanced down. A small brass gear glinted up at her. It’d be perfect for her collection. She bent down to pick it up.

  “Find something you like?”

  She dropped the gear and whirled around. The inventor stood there, hands on hips, watching her. Dressed only in a shirt and trousers, he looked sweaty, hot and disheveled. His face was ruddy, as if he’d been working strenuously in a forge. Where had he come from? With all the noise, she hadn’t heard him approach.

  “Mr. Miller! You startled me.”

  “Easy to do when you’re sneaking around. Again.” He glanced to the gear and then back to her face.

  “I was only looking.”

  He shrugged. “Take it. I have more than enough.”

  “Oh, thank you!” She snatched it up and rubbed the smooth metal between thumb and forefinger.

  Daniel dragged a forearm across his dripping face. “Pardon me, but I need some water.”

  He turned and stalked toward the front of the workshop. Elena followed. She breathed in his aroma, a mixture of salty sweat and earthy maleness.

  “Would you like some?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Daniel poured them each a glass from a pitcher on a rolling cart. Ever the gentleman, he was careful to avoid touching her fingers as he passed her the glass. Nevertheless, the heat of his fingers sparked to hers like a bolt of lightning.

  Elena eyed him as she sipped. He chugged the water fast, exposing the corded muscles of his neck as he did so. Lowering his glass, he stared at her with a bright, alert gaze. His parted lips, glistening with water, made her acutely aware of his masculinity. Of his power.

  Daniel set down his empty glass and crossed his arms. “Why have you come?”

  She swallowed nervously. Did he not remember his offer? “You said you would show me another invention.”

  He arched a brow. “Ah, that’s right. Truth be told, I thought you had lost interest.”

  She shook her head. “Nothing like that. My father is very strict and has eyes everywhere. I had to wait for the right moment. Surely, you understand.”

  Daniel nodded slowly. “Of course. Well, if you’ll have a seat, I’ll get it.”

  She sat daintily on a bench. He was going to show her another invention! Would she be the first to witness its unveiling? Something about the encounter seemed so very exclusive. Excitement made her restless. She folded her hands and crossed her feet to keep from squirming.

  The inventor returned shortly with the device. He placed it on the worktable before her. She blinked, for it defied explanation.

  Two spindly, jointed rods extended from either side of the trapezoid base. The exposed mechanisms had a stark beauty all their own. Intrigued, she followed the lines of coiled springs, gears and escapements. A Z-shaped hand crank sprouted from the top. Like the mechanical bug, it was powered by clockwork. Lovely!

  She gasped upon seeing a brass metal hand at the end of each rod. The androgynous digits had articulated joints. They were also the size of a man’s hands. The inventor’s, perhaps? Had he modeled them after his own? Her gaze darted from the mechanical hands to the inventor’s flesh and blood ones. A shiver ran through her.

  “It is quite a work of art.”

  “Thank you.”

  She placed her hand against one of the brass hands. The metal warmed beneath her touch. She gave it a gentle hand shake. “How do you do?” She giggled.

  Daniel shifted the machine so its base lay flush with the table’s edge. “This will work best if you sit and face the opposite way.”

  She withdrew her hand and began turning around. “What does it do?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  Elena grinned with excitement. Behind her, she heard a whirr. One glance informed her the inventor was cranking the device. The muscles in his ar
m bulged. A lock of hair fell across his forehead, making him look deliciously wild.

  “Turn back around, please, and remain still.”

  She complied. A tink tink tink noise informed her the gears were spinning. Anticipation made her stomach jumpy with butterflies. But she didn’t dare sneak another peek. Daniel might end the whole procedure if she displayed uncooperative behavior.

  All ten brass fingertips came to rest lightly on her head. The contact was simultaneously intriguing and unsettling. This was unexplored territory, to say the least. “Mr. Miller, what is—”

  “Shh. Trust me.”

  What a bold proposition! She hardly knew the man. But even their few recent encounters had been more thrilling than anything she’d experienced in her life. Excitement, she could trust. She willed herself into a living statue.

  The fingers began moving. They slid ever so slowly back and forth, dragging over her hair and caressing her scalp. The feather-light sensation sent a wave of tingles down her neck. She sucked in a breath. She’d never dreamed of anything so relaxing.

  The fingertips massaged her forehead, then dipped all the way to her nape. Then they repeated the process over again. Delightful! She closed her eyes at the soothing touch.

  Daniel must have made some kind of adjustment, for the pressure intensified. The brass fingers now moved against her scalp with deep, languid strokes. If only she could unpin her hair and let it swing free!

  The simple touch drove her to a place of infinite serenity, as though she were floating on a cloud. Tension melted away. Her limbs felt heavy, warm and loose.

  “I could sit here all day,” she murmured.

  “Is that so?” the inventor murmured back.

  His low, velvety voice enhanced her tranquil state like silk sweeping down her spine. The line between fantasy and reality blurred. A vision of brass hands seizing her breasts flashed in her mind. She lay naked on the inventor’s work table, her legs spread wide to accommodate the device as it rested between her thighs. She arched her back as the mechanical hands squeezed and plumped her hot flesh. The inventor cranked the device hard and fast, his gaze never leaving her face.

  Despite the layers of clothing and confining corset, she became aware of her body like never before. Her nipples spiraled into tight, painfully sensitive nubs. She gasped and her eyes flew open. What was she thinking? What was this machine doing to her?

  What was this man doing to her?

  At once, the brass hands withdrew. The device squeaked to a stop. Daniel appeared before her. Creases formed between his brows.

  “You look unsettled. Are you uncomfortable? Was it too rough?”

  Elena avoided his gaze for fear the sight of his intense eyes would summon another inappropriate vision. “No,” she whispered. “I…quite some time has passed. Perhaps I should be leaving.”

  “As you wish.” Daniel swept his device from the table and stashed it in a nearby cabinet. Then he stared at her intently, capturing her in the net of his gaze. “Was it hot enough for you, she who likes to play with fire?”

  She swallowed hard as she rose from the seat. She did feel hot. Sweat dampened her underarms, and a halo of heat surrounded her midsection. His question both troubled and mesmerized her. How could she answer? How could she tell him the experience had left her wanting more? More heat, more sensation and more mind-numbing bliss.

  She raised her gaze to meet his.

  “I cannot risk visiting during the day again, not without a chaperone. I’m not even supposed to be here now. But at night….” She moistened her lips. What, exactly, was she proposing? “I can visit you late at night for another demonstration.”

  She’d always been a dutiful daughter despite the resentment coursing through her blood. Therefore, if she left in the dead of night, her father would never suspect. Even the servants would be asleep. “If I visit, will you have something for me? Another device?”

  Daniel nodded slowly. “Come on Friday night. I’ll have exactly what you desire.”

  Three days. It seemed an eternity, but she had no choice but to wait. “I will be here.”

  He escorted her to the door. He didn’t take her arm or otherwise make physical contact. Elena wondered at his level of control. Most men would have at least cupped her elbow by now, or created some excuse to brush against her in some way. Daniel’s reserved nature only piqued her interest more. What lay behind his mask of perfect restraint? Perhaps she would discover a way to crack it during her next visit.

  “Friday night,” she echoed.

  Daniel nodded.

  Once at the door, she fled the inventor’s workshop and rushed to the garden as fast as her legs could carry her.

  Chapter Four

  That Friday night, Elena lay atop her bed. She wore only her thinnest nightdress, but it seemed to draw heat toward her body instead of repelling it. The damp linen made her back feel sticky. She turned her face toward the open window, seeking a breeze to cool her warm face. Alas, the lace curtains hung limply in the still, heavy air.

  Moonlight lit the face of her bedside clock. The minute hand was ticking its way to one a.m. Surely, this late hour would be enough to avoid detection while she visited the inventor’s workshop?

  When the tall case clock at the end of the hall chimed, she donned her shoes and wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders. She tiptoed across the floor. The brass, mushroomed-shaped knob turned quietly as she opened the door, but the hinges creaked, an unnaturally loud sound in the otherwise silent mansion. She took a nervous step back. Why hadn’t she ever noticed the noise before? She’d instruct a servant to oil it first thing tomorrow.

  Gathering her courage, she slipped into the hallway. The luxuriant carpet absorbed her footfalls. She made her way by feel along the dark passageways, heart thudding in her chest. It was irrational to think that on this night, of all nights, her father would suddenly wake and discover her. But even if he slept soundly, she couldn’t rule out the possibility of a servant awakening.

  At the end of the hall, she paused. Should she take the main staircase or use the servants’? She decided on the main. From there, she’d exit through one of the rear doors.

  She slid her hand along the smooth, polished wood of the curved bannister as she descended to the first floor and avoided looking at the grand paintings decorating this part of the mansion. The gilded-framed canvases depicted various deceased family members. Through the murky gloom, the austere subjects regarded her with cold, suspicious eyes. Catch her! they seemed to whisper, their voices echoing everywhere. Stop her at once!

  Her stomach clenched. Doubts crept into her mind even as her feet conquered each step. I shouldn’t be doing this. She was unchaperoned. It was the middle of the night. She intended to visit a man—alone. If caught, her punishment would likely be a whipping more severe than anything the Devil himself could mete out. She truly shouldn’t be taking this chance.

  But the inventor had captured her like a Siren’s call, and she lay hopelessly enthralled by his skill. Daniel might work for her father for a few years or just a few months. She couldn’t depend on his being a part of her life forever. Now was the time to take advantage of his presence. She doubted she’d ever meet a man like him again.

  She reached the ground floor. Flitting about like a ghost, she kept to the shadows, avoiding moonlit patches whenever possible.

  Holding her breath, she slipped out a back door and exhaled. Free of the house at last! But there was still the open grounds to travel.

  She trotted across the grass, clutched her shawl close as if it could make her invisible to prying eyes. Night creatures chirped and hooted. The noises sounded so much more ominous out here in the open. Yet, the humid air hung redolent with scents of honeysuckle and rose. She inhaled deeply, determined to savor every delicious, forbidden moment.

  At the western edge of the property, a line of trees rose before her like dark, ancient sentinels. She half-feared they’d launch leaf-studded branches to bar her path, or
trip her with their thick, gnarled roots. Was her heart beating rapidly from excitement or terror?

  Panting wildly, she reached the inventor’s workshop a few moments later. A cursory glance of the path behind revealed no one following her. The mansion’s windows remained dark. Elena straightened and calmed her breathing.

  The double doors lay slightly ajar. Light from within spilled onto the dirt path, and several of the large windows glowed a warm yellow. She placed a trembling hand upon one of the door panels. Once she entered, there would be no turning back.

  She walked slowly into the main room. The tang of metal tickled her nose. Individual brass gas lamps of varying shapes and sizes lit the workshop. They were attached to the walls and hung from the ceiling.

  A breeze stirred her loose hair. She turned to the source. In one corner, a huge spiral contraption with six pie-shaped bronze blades sticking out from the center continually turned. It reminded her of a windmill, except it generated a mechanically-powered wind. The air running across her face still felt warm, but at least it made the workshop less stifling. Ingenious. She wondered if Daniel had any intention of replicating the device and selling it. No doubt he’d make a fortune.

  She resumed her search, and discovered Daniel bent over a desk on the far side of the main work area. He was dressed in his usual combination of shirt, waistcoat and trousers. A mass of gleaming machine parts surrounded him. He had a tool in each hand and was tinkering with some kind of device. Perhaps it was something her father had commissioned.

  Elena cleared her throat. He glanced up and regarded her over the rim of his spectacles—except this pair was far from ordinary. Brass frames encased the amber lenses. A conical silver loupe protruded from the left lens. Four multi-colored lenses fanned out from the right one. The sight left her breathless. He seemed like a character bursting forth from an adventure tale. Might he whisk her away to fantastical lands?