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He chuckled. “That actually worked to my advantage, her swooning.” He made a clicking sound with his tongue and the horses increased their speed.

“I thought it had ruined your romantic tryst. Sent her into another man’s arms,” said Mari.

“Ruined it? More like saved it. Lady Blanche falling into Laxton’s arms was the plan all along.”

So he hadn’t been interested in Lady Blanche. Why did that make her heart lift? “So you’re not angry with me then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

The carriage halted in front of a huge brick building on New Road. Several chimneys and one very tall column rose from the roof, belching black smoke into the air.

A groom opened a gate and they rode into a paved courtyard.

He tossed his reins to the groom and helped her down from the curricle. She tried not to notice the way he lifted her so easily.

He was upset with her, so she was upset with him. Tit for tat.

“We’re here,” he said.

“We’re where?” she asked, though she’d already guessed.

“The Vulcan.”

“If you dispose of my body in your place of business, someone’s sure to find me. Hadn’t you better drown me in the Thames, instead?”

His tall black hat blocked out the sun for a moment as he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “What I should do is bundle you right back to your registry and ask for a new governess.”

Mari’s heart sped. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

Maybe she’d pushed him too far.

“Didn’t I hire you on a trial basis?” he asked.

Hell’s bells. She smoothed out her skirts. “One minor wrinkle in an otherwise perfect record of employment—”

“Minor wrinkle, you call it? My offspring were telling fortunes and charming snakes in the middle of Hyde Park during the fashionable hour.”

“First of all, the season is finished and so there were few witnesses, and second, we were not in the middle, we had chosen a quiet, grassy area, and third—”

“You don’t understand. My foundry stands on the brink of a major innovation in high-pressure steam engines. We’re making history here.”

“Oh I understand perfectly, Your Grace. You care more for your reputation than your children’s happiness.”

She pushed open the door of the foundry and swept inside.

“That’s not true.” He followed her, raising his voice over the sudden noise of clanking hammers and whistling steam.

“It’s not?”

“Do you see these men, Miss Perkins? These apprentice founders, journeyman founders, assistant engineers, and pattern makers?”

“I see them.” There were men everywhere, some in leather aprons and gloves, feeding coal into chimneys. Some with barrows filled with sand.

“Every single person in this foundry is relying upon me to build the railway so that our engines will have somewhere to roam. They are also relying upon me to win a contract with the fire brigades for a new kind of fire engine. My name, my offspring, my governess, and every last thing associated with my foundry must be upstanding and beyond reproach. Synonymous with strength, power, respectability, and reliability.”

She stopped walking abruptly. “You’re aduke. Isn’t the battle already won?”

“My reputation was tarnished by—”


Tags: Lenora Bell Historical