Page 32 of Anything But a Duke
Miss Ashby leaned closer, her bodice brushing the arm of his coat. She lifted a finger to trace the mechanism of the design. “When a man becomes very warm—”
A sound emerged from the back of his throat. A strangled chuckle, as much because of the absurdity of the design as the fact that she was deliciously close, which had the very unsettling effect of making him overheat.
She glanced at him as if to determine whether he intended to interrupt her any further and then carried on. “By cranking this lever, the top would open to allow in some cool air.”
“Why?”
She looked at him, a confused expression carving two tiny lines between her brows. “Why what?”
“If a man wishes to be cool, he can simply remove his hat.” He pointed to the crank and lever design. “That seems like far too much work.”
Miss Ashby returned the drawing to the table where it joined several others, then offered him a smile that made the breath tangle in his throat. “You’re right, of course. Few of my father’s designs ever became more than sketches.”
“I can see why.”
“But I assure you, Mr. Iverson, mine are already much more than fanciful nonsense.” There was a delicious gleam of challenge in her gaze.
“Show me.”
Without another word, she led him deep into the interior of the house, looking back now and then to make sure he still followed. Finally, she turned and headed toward what appeared to be a back garden. But as they drew closer, he realized much of the space had been taken up by a glass-covered conservatory.
The Ashby conservatory was filled with mechanical parts and tools. So many technical sketches were applied to the glass windows that they served as wallpaper, blocking much of the sunlight.
“I hoped you’d come, so I have everything laid out in anticipation. I do need a moment to prepare the device. Are you in a terrible rush?”
“No.” In truth, he had two investors to meet within the hour, an appointment with his banker, and a lecture to attend in the evening. He’d intended to come and go quickly, to stay as long as politeness required and be on his way. Yet for the first time in a long while, he found himself wishing to linger.
She disappeared into a partitioned area of the conservatory and he appraised the workshop she’d created. Order reigned in the space, with nails and screws sorted by size and stored in jars on a shelf, spools of wire captured on hooks along the wall, and a neat assembly of books, seemingly organized by topic.
And then there were her creations. Strange metal contraptions with arms and levers and springs where Aidan had never imagined a spring would be needed.
One device was particularly intriguing. It was designed in a feminine shape, curved like a metal hourglass, and sat on a high stand that made it the height of a moderately tall woman. Aidan reached out to run his finger along one of the odd metal arms that marched down the length of the shapely device.
Miss Ashby cleared her throat as she stepped into the room.
Aidan snatched back his hand.
“See anything of interest?” She swept her gaze around the collection of devices and then focused on the one that had caught his notice. One dark brow edged up as she watched him.
He couldn’t back down from the challenge.
“Tell me about this one,” he said, indicating the shapely device.
A hint of a smile caused a dimple to flicker in her cheek. “It’s a corset unlacer.”
Aidan’s throat went dust dry, but his mind flooded with images. Thoughts of Diana Ashby wearing nothing but a corset. And images of how he, not this many-armed contraption, might free her of such a garment. Her back to him, his fingers sliding across her skin.
When he got lost in his thoughts and said nothing more, Miss Ashby crossed the room and approached her device. She adjusted the mechanical projections so that they were all arranged in a straight row.
He watched as she ran her hands along the mechanism and wasn’t sure he liked the effect the lady had on him. It wasn’t just her pretty face, her lush lips, the spark of challenge in her eyes. She made him want to know everything about her.
Observing her while standing so close, he could almost hear the whirring of her mind. She radiated a determination that was as enticing as her confidence.
“You own a shopping emporium, don’t you?” The glance she cast over her shoulder told him she wasn’t waiting for an answer so much as stating a fact. She’d admitted to studying all the investors of the Den. He couldn’t help but wonder what else she’d learned about him.
“Several.”
“I’ve worked on a prototype that would lace a corset too.” She ran a finger along the row of retracted arms. “The bottom of a lady’s laces would go here and these looseners would gradually ease the laces free.” She pointed to a slat at the bottom of the device’s stand that he hadn’t initially noticed. “By pumping the pedal, the mechanism gradually loosens the corset so that a lady might free herself.”
