Page 27 of A Lady's Past
Cocking his head, Michael watched Jacques a few long seconds. “Are you in love with her?”
At the word, Jacques’s heart pounded, and warning bells went off in his head. “I gave up on love in France, as you know. I like her and she is important to me.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “You know, Jacques, love has a funny way of not caring if you’ve given up on her or not. This woman is important to you. She is on your mind and you are willing to risk your own standing in England to save her. Why?”
“Damned if I know.”
Laughing, Michael called for a footman to bring his overcoat.
* * *
It was not unusual to find the Edgebrook town house in total chaos, but since Diana had begun helping Francis there had been no accidents. Yet when Jacques and Michael arrived, smoke poured out the open front door.
Fenwick ran from the house. “Pardon me, sirs. I must open some windows. The fire is out, but the smoke.” Hair flopping in all directions, the butler ran down the stairs to the side of the house.
Bertram ran out next, coughing like mad. “No one was harmed.” He stopped at the bottom of the steps and kept a watchful eye.
Michael laughed. “I see Edgebrook is little changed.”
“This is the first incident in months. I wonder what went wrong.” Jacques waved at the smoke in his face and proceeded inside.
Doris rushed out of the basement door, coughing. “Goodness. It’s not much better up here. Oh, hello, Mr. Laurent, Your Grace, we weren’t expecting callers. There was a wee accident in the laboratory. It was the strangest thing. But the good news is, Mr. Edgebrook’s new fire extinguisher works with great speed and no one was hurt.”
Jacques’s heart began beating again. “Where are they, Mrs. Whimple?”
“Downstairs trying to find out what happened. I tried to get them to abandon the room until the smoke clears, but you know how they are.”
“Perhaps I can convince them some clear air would be more advantageous.” Jacques headed for the door to the steps, and Michael followed.
Most dukes would be averse to traipsing down to a basement that was recently on fire, but Michael was not like most dukes. “What are they working on that might catch on fire?”
Francis answered from below, “It was the mining lamp. That flared up. Shouldn’t have happened. We had put that aside to check on the plantings.”
Both Francis and Diana were covered in gray soot.
Her bright eyes widened at the sight of him and Michael. The dress she wore might have been blue, but it was now ash colored. “The good news is, the extinguisher worked even better than expected. I’m relieved it was handy. We think the vapor tank we were using for testing somehow leaked.”
It didn’t add up. Jacques asked, “I thought the lamp was designed to warn of dangerous vapors with a small increase in flame.”
The windows above opened one at a time, allowing the smoke to clear. “Is that better, sir?” Fenwick called down.
“Thank you, Fenwick. Much better.” Francis walked over to the singed lamp. “That’s the odd part. Somehow black powder got into the mix. It could have been much worse. I’m not sure how this might have occurred.”
Stepping forward, Michael coughed. He examined the table and lamp. “How do you know there was black powder?”
“Your Grace, what are you doing here?” Francis held out his hand to shake, having just noticed the presence of a peer.
His friend’s absentmindedness would be amusing if he and Diana hadn’t almost been blown to pieces. Jacques watched Diana as she studied the lamp.
“I came to meet your new assistant, who Laurent speaks so highly of.”
At that, Francis grinned, his white teeth shining against his filthy skin. “Miss St. Cloud is a marvel. If she were a man, she’d be at the top of the field in her own right. I, for one, am happy to have her help.”
“Did you have a theory about the gunpowder?” Jacques tried to get him back on the subject.
Pointing to a spot several feet from where the table was singed, Francis said, “We found the powder scattered here. I’m puzzled about how it could have gotten in the laboratory. I’m not working on anything regarding firearms.”
Jacques didn’t like the sound of any of this. “Miss St. Cloud, would you like to get cleaned up so that His Grace and I might have a word?”
