Unraveling Secrets (The Secret Trilogy) (14 page)

To be a woman in truth.

She couldn’t think of a better man to give her that experience. No one else could make her heart pound with a simple look and that slow smile. No one else could make her head spin with his kisses.

Now she need only determine the proper timing and arrange a few other details.
She could ease into it; plant the seed of desire in their next meeting or two. An affair would follow naturally. That would make it a simple process, she thought with a smile. One she looked forward to. A welcome distraction from the worry of Simmons.

She need only find her courage
to make it a reality.

***

The next afternoon, Stephen surveyed the rocks and minerals displayed on the desk in Abigail’s library. With much effort, he kept his gaze on the specimens rather than Abigail. A difficult task considering the pale blue gown she wore with its low-cut neckline, something highly unusual for this time of day. Or perhaps he was more out of touch with society and fashions than he’d thought.

For the tenth time, h
e reminded himself that the purpose of his call was to inspect the rock collection, not ogle her.

He
’d been certain her stepmother would be home, but Lady Bradford and her two youngest daughters were out shopping.

“Your father had an extensive collection,” he commented, tearing his gaze away from
tempting curves of her breasts. The sweet pink of her aura caused his own passion to rise.

“Yes,” she said as she bent forward and lingered in that position
to reach for an obsidian rock, her curves drawing his gaze again. “Grandfather gave him a few items when he was young and Father collected many more over the years.”

He held his breath, wondering if she
’d spill out of the low neckline. Once she’d straightened, he forced his gaze from the perfection of her breasts to look at the rock she held.

She rubbed the black, shiny surface back and forth slowly with her thumb. Her
pink aura deepened to rose even as she looked at him from beneath her long lashes.

Was she trying to drive him mad?

“He brought back many from his travels,” she added.

“Did he have a particular area of interest?” Stephen realized he hel
d an oddly shaped conglomerate.

“Anything unusual, I suppose.” She pointed to the books on a nearby shelf. “He studied all he could find on the subject and loved speaking to anyone who shared his...passion.”

He swallowed hard, trying to cool his ardor. The way she’d spoken that word in her honeyed tone made it difficult to think. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what looked to be a meteorite—a flat gray stone on the opposite side of the desk. “Do you know much about them?”

“Not really. He catalogued
the collection but I’m not certain where that information is.” She frowned as though trying to remember. “He was very excited about a particular meteorite he found while in India. That happened only a few months before his death. He also received a rather unique specimen from a fellow collector in Brazil.”

Stephen walked around the desk to pick up the one he
’d spotted. “Is this one of them?”

She took it from him, her fingers trailing along his palm. “I
’m not sure. It might be. Do you collect as well?” Her bright blue eyes distracted him once again. Her bare fingers lingered in his palm as she handed the stone back to him.

He stared at her, his mind blank for a long moment. “I only dabble, but I once assisted someone who took great interest,” he said at last. Professor Grisby had been an avid collector. He
’d had a special interest in meteorites. In fact, before his death, he’d been searching for a particular lunar specimen said to aid in the conduction of electricity. He’d been certain it would help their experiments with electromagnetism and give them the even conduction for which they’d been looking.

“M
y stepmother and I have talked about donating the collection to The Society for the Science of Rocks and Minerals, but neither of us has had the heart to part with it.” She sighed as she looked over the stones, her aura dimming. “I thought I’d put father’s death behind me, but now that Simmons has returned, it seems to have brought it all back.”

The quiver in her voice tugged at him. “I
’m sure that’s only natural. Not only did he die a violent death, but you witnessed it. That must make it all the more difficult.” Stephen told himself he had no other choice but to draw her into his arms, unable to resist offering her some small measure of comfort.

She nestled into his embrace, her head on his shoulder, her warm form melding to his as though she were made for him. He could feel the tension in her body ease as he continued to hold her, running his hands along her back. “I
’m sorry this is so painful for you.”

She
’d grown up with the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. Her desire for independence was a lonely path and he wondered if she’d realized that. She was turning her back on the very thing he couldn’t have—a family.

He understood why in some respects, but he didn
’t think she’d counted the many advantages a marriage with the right person could bring her.

She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes full of unshed tears. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, his hands pausing in their rhythm, hoping those tears wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t bear it.

“For understanding. For helping me with Simmons. For everything.” She smiled tremulously. “What started as a simple
quest was no such thing, I fear.”

“Yes
.” The mention of the reason for their relationship doused him with reality and reminded him to maintain his distance. He eased her from his arms, bracing himself when her smile fell, hoping the tears wouldn’t follow.

It wasn
’t his place to offer comfort or question the path she’d chosen for her life. Each time he met with her seemed like a test of his fortitude, of his ability to resist temptation—a test he had no intention of failing. Nothing good could come of indulging his affection for her except for temporary pleasure and that would end in hurt.

He did his best to push aside the black hole of darkness that opened before him at the thought of the lonely days ahead when
the temptation of her had been removed. There was nothing to be done about it except move on, and the sooner the better.

“We
’ve followed Simmons several times to a warehouse near Hook Lane and Blackwall Road close to the docks but haven’t yet discovered why he’s going there. The buildings and streets in that area are a maze which has made it difficult to track him.”

Abigail sighed. “I have to confess it feels as though two steps are taken backward for every step forward.”

“If we can’t resolve the case soon, we’ll form another plan. Perhaps set a trap of some sort.”

“That
’s an excellent notion.”

The excitement in her eyes made him nervous. Even as he stared,
dark spears appeared in her aura. Now what was she thinking?

“I could be the bait for the trap. We could get the word to him somehow that I have the rock he wants.” Her enthusiasm gained momentum. He could see
her ideas swirling through her aura. “When shall we plan it? Perhaps tomorrow? Where do you think would be the best place?”

Stephen held up his hand in an attempt to slow her down. “You
’ll not be luring him anywhere. That is not an option.”

“Why ever not? I think it would be quite effective.”

“But not safe.”

“You
’d be nearby, would you not?”

“My presence wouldn
’t prevent Simmons from drawing that knife of which he seems so fond.”

“Oh.”

He watched as her enthusiasm for her idea deflated like a dirigible tangled in a tree.

“I would feel better if I were assisting you in some capacity,” she said. “Surely you could use another pair of eyes watching for him.” Her hopeful expr
ession was difficult to resist.

“Abigail, I would not risk even so much as a hair on your head.” He reached out to run a finger along the black, silken strands just above her ear, enjoying her reaction as her eyes widened and her breath caught. “We will discover what he
’s up to soon enough along with who else is involved. But we will not risk any harm to you.”

Those fathomless blue eyes held his and, for a long moment, he thought her in agreement.

“I appreciate your concern. Truly, I do.”

He sighed, bracing himself for her argument. From past experience, he knew it would be a sound and logical one.

“But at times such as these, reward cannot be gained without risk. Please know that I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to capture Simmons and put an end to the nefarious plan in which he’s involved.”

He marveled at how she could take him from desire to anger in a moment. A remarkable skill for certain and quite effective. “I appreciate your willingness to sacrifice yourself.”

Her cheeks colored at his words.

“But we
’ll leave sacrifice to others. I have people working for me who are skilled in such matters. There’s no need to—”

“I have to disagree.” She lifted her chin, those blue eyes determined. “It
’s me he’s after.”

“That may be, but he can
’t have you.” It took him the barest moment to realize how proprietary he sounded. This woman twisted him in knots—physically and mentally and verbally. His only option was to leave before he did something he’d regret.

“You will remain home or escorted by your footman at all times. You will not take any chances. Do you understand?”

Her reluctant agreement to his request made him doubt her sincerity right along with the dim color of her aura.

As he walked out of the house moments later, the meteorite in his pocket, he couldn
’t shake the uneasy feeling that came over him.

Abigail pondered the message from Stephen for the fiftieth time as she sat at her desk in her bedroom after breakfast.

Delivered two days ago, the note was vague at best.

Developments have arisen. More to follow.

                                   S.

Yet nothing had followed. Why bother to send a note that said so little?

After worrying endlessly about
what developments he referred to, she’d sent a message of her own yesterday, but he’d not bothered to answer. Waiting was driving her crazy. There had to be something else she could do.

Simmons
hadn’t been sighted for days now, but if anything, that made her more nervous. With everything Stephen had discovered, she had no doubt Simmons was plotting something terrible.

But what?

For the first time, she considered explaining the entire situation to her stepmother. She couldn’t be with her family all the time. Poor Ponsford and Thomas had been on guard for weeks now and it was wearing on all of them. If Simmons wasn’t caught soon, she’d have to tell Irene, though she dreaded the idea. Irene and the girls would be terrified.

No, she decided. That had to remain a last resort.

She’d promised her father she’d take care of her stepmother and the twins. That included not worrying them unless absolutely necessary. In this case, ignorance was bliss.

She rose from the
desk more determined than ever. She had no choice other than to research the situation herself. Sitting here was accomplishing nothing. Obviously, something had gone awry, and it was up to her to discover what.

She
’d take the proper precautions of course. No need to be rash, but a visit to the area by the docks Stephen had mentioned was in order. She considered taking Thomas with her but decided against it. The brawny footman would only draw attention and she wanted to remain in disguise. She need only avoid Ponsford as her stepmother and the twins were going out soon. Then she’d conduct her own investigation with no one the wiser.

***

Stephen strode into the dining room, anxious to hurry through breakfast so he could call upon Abigail. He’d already delayed longer than he should’ve, but he’d been trying to keep his distance. Each time he saw her, his feelings deepened. He could no longer trust himself when he was near her. Yet if he didn’t advise her of their progress regarding Simmons soon, she’d do something drastic despite promising otherwise.

As per usual, the morning paper awaited him at the table. He sat and unfolded it as a footman arrived with eggs, hot rolls, bacon and a steaming cup of coffee.

He glanced through the headlines as he started on the eggs. Two bites into his meal, the fork clattered to his plate.

The headline read:
Reclusive Scientist Soon to Reveal Electromagnetic Experiment Results
.

Alarm spread through him as he read on, his appetite gone. The article was brief, mentioning a mysterious unnamed scientist who
’d prepared sizable transducer coils held in a vacuum with the intent of making the electromagnetic waves self-propagating. His newly discovered technique allowed the waves to maintain velocity and therefore ensure a more even transfer of energy.

The writer was obviously a skeptic for he went on to say
how other scientists had tried similar experiments without success.

O
ne of those previous scientists had been Professor Grisby.

He read the ambiguous article several times, trying to pinpoint what bothered him. As the reporter stated, several other scientists had conducted such experiments. The professor hadn
’t been the only one. It wasn’t unusual for multiple scientists to do similar experiments at nearly the same time. Often it was a matter of who published their results first to determine who received credit for the discovery.

Professor Grisby had nearly completed such an article at the time of the accident. He
’d been certain the experiment would succeed and the only thing left to do would be to document the specifics in order to claim the discovery for his own.

Stephen started to set the paper aside but stopped.
He couldn’t shake his unease. Hadn’t he learned over the years never to ignore the intuition that seemed to strike when trouble was near? The feeling he had now was no different. Harm would certainly befall someone if he walked away from it.

With reluctance, he pushed back the chair, paper in hand. The time had come to visit an old friend, or as Abigail had so
aptly put it, a former friend.

He doubted
Weston would be pleased to see him.

***

“Ashbury, this is an unexpected...surprise.”

Stephen clenched his jaw at the lack of welcome from Weston. He
’d anticipated it but that didn’t make it easier to hear. Not for the first time, he wished he could see his friend’s aura. Any sort of assistance to measure his thoughts would’ve been helpful. “Isn’t that the nature of a surprise? To be unexpected?”

Weston didn
’t seem to appreciate the insight if his grim expression was any indication. He sat down at his ornate desk and drummed his fingers along the immaculate surface. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“Did you see this morning
’s paper?”

“I only had time to peruse the financial section. Why?”

Rather than answer, Stephen held out the paper folded to the article in question.

Weston took it and scanned the headline. “Electromagnetism? I would
’ve thought you had lost interest in the subject. I certainly have.”

“The article reminds me of someone.”

Weston narrowed his eyes. “Who?”

“Professor Grisby.”

With a scoff, Weston looked back at the paper. “Oh, please.”

The derision in his voice stung. Stephen wondered if he really was losing his mind. First the headaches, then the melancholy. Now he was imagining things.

“I only ask that you read it.”

Weston sighed then proceeded to do as he asked. At last, he said, “
Many scientists are interested in electromagnetism these days. It’s become quite the rage.”

“But isn
’t it odd that this particular scientist is a recluse and refuses interviews?”

“Hardly. Most scientists are far from socially adept.”

Frustrated, Stephen tried another avenue. “The vacuum transducer described is very similar to the one Grisby built.”

“There aren
’t enough specifics here to determine that. Ashbury, what is it you want?” Weston asked, clearly annoyed by the discussion.

Stephen ran a finger along the inside of his collar which suddenly felt tight, wondering if he dared speak his mind. “Is there any possibility this scientist is Professor Grisby?” He knew it made no sense, yet he couldn
’t shake the feeling.

“Have you gone mad?”

Doubt and despair speared through him. “Perhaps.” In truth he worried the dark mood that came more and more frequently might be a preview of insanity. “All I ask is for you to tell me this is not Professor Grisby.”

“This is not Professor Grisby.” Weston handed back the paper. “In case you
’ve forgotten, he’s dead.”

“So there
’s nothing in this article that makes you uneasy?”

“Other than the fact that another scientist might lose his life while trying to control electromagnetism? No.”

“But—”

“Ashbury, I
’ve done as you asked. I hate to be rude but I have an appointment.” He stepped around his desk, obviously intent on seeing him to the door.

Despite Weston
’s reassurances, Stephen’s unease remained. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Rather than taking Weston’s hint to leave, he remained where he was and read the article again. Weston was right. The simple words on the page described several other scientists. Why did he think of the professor when he read it?

Weston stood beside him and tapped the paper Stephen held. “I
’m telling you, that can’t possibly be the professor. We saw his body that night. We attended his funeral. We watched his sister and her family grieve. Surely you haven’t forgotten that.”

“No.” Their grief was something he
’d always remember. Professor Grisby’s sister had sobbed uncontrollably. The sound had broken his heart. Her oldest child, still a young girl, was the only one who’d remained composed. Despite her dry eyes, her grief was palpable. The sag of her shoulders, the grim set of her mouth, her large, empty brown eyes staring straight ahead. The devastation seemed to have shaken her world.

“Then you know this has nothing to do with Grisby.”

Stephen stared into Weston’s eyes, trying to absorb the surety Weston had, but failing. “I’m going to see what more I can discover.”

Weston shook his head. “You are the most stubborn
—”

A knock at the door interrupted him.

“What is it?”

A servant stepped into the room. “A messenger has arrived for Lord Ashbury.”

Stephen frowned. He couldn’t imagine why any of his messengers would come here to speak with him. “I’ll let you be on your way,” he told Weston and moved to the door.

Weston followed him. “A messenger?”

He paused to look at his friend, surprised at his sudden interest. “Must be from one of my associates. We’re in the middle of investigating a few problems.”

Before he
got to the door, James, one of the lads who worked for him, stepped forward, hat in hand.

“Sorry to bother you, my lord, but the man we
’ve been watching for arrived at the warehouse near the docks. You said you wanted to know immediately.”

“Well done.
” Stephen turned to Weston to say goodbye, regret filling him at the loss of his friend, wishing things were different. “I apologize for interrupting your morning.”

Weston frowned. “Who have you been watching for
down there?”

“No one you know. I
’ll bid you good day.” Stephen moved toward the door.

“That
’s a rough area.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re not going there alone?”

“James will be with me.” Stephen looked at Weston, wondering what was going through his mind.

“He’s a boy.” Weston pointed out the obvious.

“He
’s tougher than he looks.” Stephen nodded at the lad. The hope he held that Weston might assist them was a fragile thing.

Weston tugged on his watch fob to check the time. “I can
’t possibly accompany you. I’m already late.”

Stephen pushed back the disappointment with a polite smile.
It should be enough that Weston had considered it. “Of course.” The loss of a friend, of someone he’d thought he’d always be able to count on, still hurt. “We’ll be on our way.”

“Wait.” Weston stuffed the watch back in his pocket and ran a hand through his hair. “I don
’t think you should go down there without more support.”

“
Are you offering to accompany us?”

Weston sighed. “I suppose
I am.”

With a
smile and a lightness in his heart, Stephen gestured toward the door. “I’d appreciate your assistance. I’ll explain along the way.”

***

They arrived near the dock in Stephen’s carriage, but stopped short of Hook Lane, the area where Simmons had been seen. Stephen didn’t want the carriage to draw attention.

“So this Simmons person is bothering Miss Bradford?” Weston asked as they alighted.

“Yes. We finally located him only to realize he’s involved in something far larger than threatening Miss Bradford. He’s been on a spending spree of late which indicates he has access to money. He’s buying enough food for a group of people. Whoever he’s working for had sufficient funds and connections to arrange for the switch of the two prisoners at Newgate. Someone willing to wait ten years for Simmons to be released from prison. All of that suggests a large operation. Simmons isn’t smart enough to succeed in such an endeavor alone. At any rate, he needs to be stopped. The danger to Miss Bradford and her family cannot continue.”

“Ah, yes. The delectable Miss Bradford. She seems to be at the heart of this matter.”

Stephen glared at Weston, but held his tongue. Weston’s description of her as ‘delectable’ angered him more than it should. He couldn’t possibly be jealous.

“What ho,” Weston said with a smile. “The lady is the true issue here. Has a woman at last captured your attention?”

“Weston, please. Focus. James will outpace us if we don’t hurry along.” Stephen was willing to say anything to silence his questions.