extracted clean paper, pencils and a spare fountain pen for Jed.
Since they were under observation, they might as well work.
Clearly, Jed agreed. He put his coffee cup down on the corner of the desk and handed her the packet of stolen papers. “Go ahead. You decipher the scrawled notes. I’d appreciate your assessment, if we’re really dealing with an assassination plot. I didn’t think it existed, but Nazim isn’t letting any grass grow under his feet, so the papers must have some importance—and Lajli did mention a police raid. I doubt she’d have made that up. Meantime, I’ll have another look at the blueprints. If the threat is credible, and Nazim’s actions make me wary, then we need to know what Kali’s Scream is truly capable of.”
“Jed, I…” She stopped and thought about what she wanted to say. He was trusting her judgment, including her in the danger. The thought warmed her as much as the missed kiss. “Thank you.”
He nodded, understanding, and sat opposite her at the desk. The blueprints rustled as he unfolded them. “Do you subscribe to the Journal of Unseen Science and Beyond? I read something, about a year ago, on radio waves.”
“Father subscribes. To the left of the suit of armor, third shelf down.”
“Thanks.” He selected a couple of other journals, plus a stack of three books, and returned with them to the desk. Within seconds he was completely absorbed.
She forced her attention back to the tightly written, nearly indecipherable notes in front of her.
…the casing of the device…of gold…judged to appeal…
The pages appeared to be out of order, but a shuffle of them showed no natural starting place. She went back to the first one.
…our protection is…their unwillingness to believe…
She doodled a heart and pinged it with Cupid’s arrow before realizing quite what her hand had betrayed. She dropped the pencil.
Through the open door, maids talked as they dusted and swept the stairs. From beyond the French windows came the cheerful whistle of the gardener’s lad, weeding the garden. Francis, the general factotum, stomped into the hall and urged the maids to hurry up with their dusting because the morning wasn’t getting any younger, “none of us are.” They giggled.
She looked at Jed’s bent head, his dark hair slightly mussed from his hat. Broad shoulders, enhanced by quality tailoring, were outlined by the light from the window. Once before, she’d trusted in the strength implied by those shoulders and hadn’t been disappointed. He was a man of loyalty and honor. But still, conflicting emotions tore her to and fro. To trust someone with your heart, with your passion and dreams, with all that you were, required such a huge leap of faith in them. How did anyone make that leap?
Years ago, she’d asked her mother how she could bear the rough life of the goldfields, living at her father’s mining claim as he fossicked. It was the only life Esme knew, but her mother had been a schoolmaster’s daughter who’d known a more settled, comfortable life.
Her mother had said, “When you love someone, you share their dreams.”
Did that work both ways? Would Jed share her dreams of universal suffrage, of education and welfare for all?
She would support him in his inventing.
“Are you finding the notes difficult to decipher?”
She blinked and, finding Jed watching her, fought down a revealing blush. How long had she been dreaming? “I’ll manage.”
“I believe you will.”
Chapter Seven
“Lizards’ guts!” It was the worst curse Esme allowed herself, and it didn’t seem nearly enough to express her disgust. Deciphered, the notes were the outpourings of a mean, vindictive spirit with an overinflated ego and sense of entitlement. “Jed, these read like a toddler’s tantrum. All ‘Waaaah, look at me,’ and not caring whom they hurt when they kick and bite and throw things.”
He looked up from his own work, rolling his shoulders. “True, but
Since they were under observation, they might as well work.
Clearly, Jed agreed. He put his coffee cup down on the corner of the desk and handed her the packet of stolen papers. “Go ahead. You decipher the scrawled notes. I’d appreciate your assessment, if we’re really dealing with an assassination plot. I didn’t think it existed, but Nazim isn’t letting any grass grow under his feet, so the papers must have some importance—and Lajli did mention a police raid. I doubt she’d have made that up. Meantime, I’ll have another look at the blueprints. If the threat is credible, and Nazim’s actions make me wary, then we need to know what Kali’s Scream is truly capable of.”
“Jed, I…” She stopped and thought about what she wanted to say. He was trusting her judgment, including her in the danger. The thought warmed her as much as the missed kiss. “Thank you.”
He nodded, understanding, and sat opposite her at the desk. The blueprints rustled as he unfolded them. “Do you subscribe to the Journal of Unseen Science and Beyond? I read something, about a year ago, on radio waves.”
“Father subscribes. To the left of the suit of armor, third shelf down.”
“Thanks.” He selected a couple of other journals, plus a stack of three books, and returned with them to the desk. Within seconds he was completely absorbed.
She forced her attention back to the tightly written, nearly indecipherable notes in front of her.
…the casing of the device…of gold…judged to appeal…
The pages appeared to be out of order, but a shuffle of them showed no natural starting place. She went back to the first one.
…our protection is…their unwillingness to believe…
She doodled a heart and pinged it with Cupid’s arrow before realizing quite what her hand had betrayed. She dropped the pencil.
Through the open door, maids talked as they dusted and swept the stairs. From beyond the French windows came the cheerful whistle of the gardener’s lad, weeding the garden. Francis, the general factotum, stomped into the hall and urged the maids to hurry up with their dusting because the morning wasn’t getting any younger, “none of us are.” They giggled.
She looked at Jed’s bent head, his dark hair slightly mussed from his hat. Broad shoulders, enhanced by quality tailoring, were outlined by the light from the window. Once before, she’d trusted in the strength implied by those shoulders and hadn’t been disappointed. He was a man of loyalty and honor. But still, conflicting emotions tore her to and fro. To trust someone with your heart, with your passion and dreams, with all that you were, required such a huge leap of faith in them. How did anyone make that leap?
Years ago, she’d asked her mother how she could bear the rough life of the goldfields, living at her father’s mining claim as he fossicked. It was the only life Esme knew, but her mother had been a schoolmaster’s daughter who’d known a more settled, comfortable life.
Her mother had said, “When you love someone, you share their dreams.”
Did that work both ways? Would Jed share her dreams of universal suffrage, of education and welfare for all?
She would support him in his inventing.
“Are you finding the notes difficult to decipher?”
She blinked and, finding Jed watching her, fought down a revealing blush. How long had she been dreaming? “I’ll manage.”
“I believe you will.”
Chapter Seven
“Lizards’ guts!” It was the worst curse Esme allowed herself, and it didn’t seem nearly enough to express her disgust. Deciphered, the notes were the outpourings of a mean, vindictive spirit with an overinflated ego and sense of entitlement. “Jed, these read like a toddler’s tantrum. All ‘Waaaah, look at me,’ and not caring whom they hurt when they kick and bite and throw things.”
He looked up from his own work, rolling his shoulders. “True, but
Similar Books
