Page 79 of Let Me Be Your Hero
“I must confess, I am yet to see it. As I mentioned, he now keeps most of his machines over at Nettlethorpe Iron. That’s where I was heading five days ago when I was attacked. I was hoping to see all his inventions for myself. But I’ve been stuck here at the house.”
The hallway filled with sympathetic murmurs. Lucy came over and wrapped an arm around Izzie’s waist. “Don’t worry. Bow Street will get to the bottom of this soon.”
“And then you’ll be able to see your husband’s screwing-cutting jigamaree,” Caro said brightly.
Everyone laughed, and Izzie felt a bit better. At leasteveryonedidn’t know more about her husband’s invention than her.
But she resolved that as soon as Archibald got home, he was going to answer her questions.
And he was going to show her what was behind that locked door.
CHAPTER 36
Having remembered to get washed up before he left Nettlethorpe Iron, Archibald went straight to his grandfather’s bedchamber upon arriving home that evening. He paused outside the door but didn’t hear any voices.
He felt a pang of disappointment. He’d only managed to catch his grandfather awake one time this past week. He knew his grandfather wanted him to keep Nettlethorpe Iron running smoothly above all things. But he hated having so few opportunities to speak to him now that the end seemed to be near.
Just as he placed his hand on the doorknob, he heard Izzie’s voice, muffled through the thick wooden door. “Mr. Nettlethorpe? Are you waking up?”
“I suppose I must be,” his grandfather returned. “Guess this means I’m not dead yet. So, what’re ye going to read me this afternoon?”
Archibald paused. On the one hand, he did want to capitalize on this rare opportunity to spend time with his grandfather. But he had come to enjoy his wife’s easy rapport with her grandfather by marriage, and he couldn’t resist eavesdropping for just a moment.
“I do have some new chapters,” he heard Izzie reply. “But, before I get to those, I wonder if I might ask you a question?”
“Go on, then.”
“Could you tell me about Archibald’s screw-cutting lathe?”
Archibald all but yanked the door off its hinges in his haste to get through. Why was Izzie asking about his screw-cutting lathe? How did she evenknowabout his screw-cutting lathe? He had been so careful to avoid mentioning it.
One of the guards he’d brought over from Nettlethorpe Iron must’ve said a careless word. Goodness knows his parents wouldn’t have mentioned it.
Izzie’s and his grandfather’s gazes snapped to him as he barged into the room. His focus was fixed on Izzie’s face. Usually, it lit up when he arrived home after a day at Nettlethorpe Iron.
But this time, it fell.
Oh, God. His idyll of wedded bliss was already over.
She knew. Somehow, she knew about the screws.
He watched her draw in a breath, composing herself. She forced her face into a lifeless smile. “Good afternoon, Archibald.”
He didn’t know what to say other than, “Good afternoon.”
She stood and began gathering her papers, not looking at him. “I know you haven’t had much time with your grandfather recently. I’ll leave you two so you can talk.”
She was already reaching for the doorknob. “Izzie…” he began, then stopped. He desperately wanted to talk to her, to see if there was any possibility of salvaging their marriage, but he wasn’t eager to have that conversation in front of an audience.
She must’ve read his consternation on his face because her expression softened. “We’ll talk later.”
Then she was gone.
Archibald pulled her desk chair around to face his grandfather’s bed. He did want to spend time with hisgrandfather. Hell, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that this could be the last time his grandfather would be lucid enough for them to talk.
Yet he was wracked with anxiety, wondering what horrible thoughts were going through Izzie’s head.
As he took a seat, he admonished himself to focus. He would never forgive himself if this turned out to be the last conversation he ever had with his grandfather, and he wasted it.
