Page 11 of Anything But a Duke
She let her perusal linger on a few faces and saw discomfort, disapproval, even a few tiny nods of camaraderie.
Then, one by one, all the men turned away, as if they’d lost interest in the novelty of finding a lady inventor in their midst. Either that or they decided she was no threat to their own ambitions.
Diana intended to prove them all wrong.
Willing away the anxiousness that had her pulse ticking faster than the watch pinned to her bodice, she glanced down to check the time. They’d begun calling inventors a half hour past, and she wasn’t sure where she stood in the queue. Desperation began to gnaw at her nerves.
“I’ve lost my notes,” she said to the room and got no more than a few quirked brows in response. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I’ve lost my notes. Brown folio. Purple ribbon.”
Shoulders lifted in indifferent shrugs. A few gentlemen gazed around and shook their heads to let her know they’d no more luck than she in finding her missing folio.
She returned to the spot where she’d left her brother and found him sprawled on a plush settee with his head back and his eyes closed.
“Dominick, wake up,” she whispered. “We might be called soon.” She pushed the toe of her boot against his when he didn’t respond. “And I might need your help.”
“It’s far too early for this nonsense,” he mumbled, tugging his coat lapels up around his neck and running a hand through his dark, tangled hair. Finally, the lid of one blue eye slid open. “And what are you on about? You never need my help.”
“It’s nearly midmorning, and today I do.”
He lifted both hands to cradle his head, as if all the revelry he’d enjoyed the night before was finally catching up with him. “Tell me in as few words as possible.”
“I’ve lost my notes.” She swallowed hard and told him, “I may need your assistance when I explain the machine to the duke.”
“I know nothing about your device. You always wish to keep me miles away from your inventions.” Dom jerked up on the settee and cast her a dubious look. “Besides, you’ve been preparing for months.”
“Practicing what I wish to say in front of a mirror is easy. But sometimes my thoughts rush faster than my tongue. You know that sometimes I—”
“Freeze.” Her brother edged forward and reached out to give her hand a reassuring pat. “But that’s only when you’re truly distressed. This is different, Di. You know what you’re about and are prepared for whatever they ask.” The hint of a smile began to curve his mouth. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
It was a question he’d often repeated when they were children. Sometimes in a playful manner. Sometimes as a taunt. Her twin brother had forever drawn her into his reckless adventures by challenging her bravery. To prove her mettle, she’d always insisted on her fearlessness. But today, the way her knees quivered beneath her skirt belied the claim.
“I’d be a fool not to be nervous. I can’t squander this chance.”
He shot her one of his smiles that charmed men and caused feminine conquests to dissolve into fits of giggles.
Diana smiled too, but she’d never been much for encouraging her twin’s antics.
Their resemblance—gangly and tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes—was striking enough to draw attention when they strolled London’s streets together. But beyond looks, their differences weren’t hard to find.
Diana strived to temper her impulses and make decisions based on facts and reason. Dom indulged every passion and trusted far too much to fortune. He swore that one day, at London’s gaming tables, his luck would turn and their family’s financial woes would finally come to an end. Diana hoped income from her inventions might do the same.
“My inventions are good. Some are excellent. And, most importantly, they’re useful. If they could be funded and produced, they could turn a fine profit.” She fell silent long enough to catch her breath. “But there’s only this single chance.” Her voice softened. “If my thoughts become tangled or something goes wrong, I’ll need to know you’ll take up the slack.”
He closed his eyes and pinched the skin between his brows. “Tell me what I must do. Just assure me that I needn’t operate that fiendish little machine of yours.”
Diana smiled down at the box containing a scale model of her vacuum device that she’d asked Dom to watch over while she explored the spacious reception rooms. She’d fashioned every fragile part with care and tested it dozens of times to make sure every element worked flawlessly. “I’ll run the machine. But I do wish we had my notes.”
Dom settled back on the settee. His eyelids drooped, fluttered, and then closed.
“How much did you drink last evening?”
Her brother offered no answer, but the distinct scent of alcohol wafted off his breath. He hadn’t returned home by the time she’d departed, so she doubted he’d had a chance to partake of the dark, smoky coffee that was his usual cure-all.
“Excuse me, miss.” A bespectacled young man approached hesitantly. “Was it a folio with a dark purple ribbon you were seeking?”
“Yes.” Diana stood so quickly she nearly knocked her model onto the floor. “Where is it?”
“Saw a gent heading toward the dining rooms carrying it under his arm.”
