It was a padded box with a round opening in the top, rather like a closestool. But instead of a removable chamber pot inside, there was a permanent alabaster bowl. “Back here,” Ford pointed out, “this copper pipe leads down from it.” The pipe disappeared into the wall. “The system works as a siphon.”
They all nodded, since he’d explained siphons to them years ago, along with other scientific marvels.
“I suppose it empties into the river?” Rose asked, demonstrating her intelligence.
“It does. And there will be more pipes—eventually all over the house. I mean to put a water closet in every bedchamber. And my laboratory.”
Leaning to pick up Beatrix, Lily hid a smile. The man practically lived in his laboratory.
Another pipe ran up from the back of the seat, ending at a tank affixed to the wall. “The water,” Ford said, gesturing toward a third pipe that disappeared into the ceiling. “It’s fed from a cistern on the roof.”
“How does it work?” Lily asked.
“Well, first you use it—”
“No need to demonstrate that,” Rose rushed to say.
“Of course not.” Though her brother-in-law rolled his eyes, it was a good-natured roll. While Lily suspected there’d been a time he’d disapproved of Rose’s forthright nature, those days were long past.
Rose was Rose, and all the family knew it.
“After you use it, you pull on this lever.” Ford grabbed a handle attached to the tank. “It releases the water to wash the waste out to the river.”
He pulled, and there was a rushing sound. Startled, Beatrix leapt from Lily’s arms and streaked from the room. Nearly bumping heads, everyone leaned over the alabaster bowl to watch the water flow down the pipe.
“Goodness,” Lily said. “It’s wonderful. There’s nothing to take out, nothing to clean.”
“As though you’ve ever scrubbed a chamber pot,” Rose teased.
“Oh, hush.” Lily playfully shoved her sister’s shoulder. While it was true they had no lack of servants at Trentingham Manor, that was beside the point.
Used to their squabbling, Ford simply pushed back up on the lever. “When it’s clean, you stop the water.”
“That’s it?” Mum asked.
“That’s it,” Ford said with a smile. “To deal with the, um, unpleasant odors in the pipes, I’ve curved the one below the bowl into an S shape. Clean water fills it and forms a seal.”
Chrystabel beamed. “Brilliant, as usual.”
“Very impressive,” Rand allowed.
The demonstration over, they all squeezed through the narrow doorway into the pale green bedchamber. Luggage—Rand’s, Lily assumed—sat in a corner. “Why did you build the first one in here?” she asked Ford.
“I wanted to make certain everything worked right before I started punching holes in the walls of rooms we regularly use.” He waved them back toward the corridor. “Come along, now. I want to show you the pipes outside, and others are waiting for a demonstration.”
“Everyone will want to see it, I’d wager.” Rose maneuvered to descend beside Rand. “I wish they’d all leave. I cannot wait to use it.”
Rand appeared to be smothering a laugh.
Mum released a sigh but let the improper comment pass. “Me, too,” she whispered to Lily as they followed the others downstairs.
“Me three,” Lily murmured.
Once outdoors, Ford hurried them through the garden and around the side of the house. Bright new copper pipe shone in the sun, making its way down the white wall before disappearing into the ground. A tidy trail of newly turned earth traced the pipe’s path to the nearby Thames.
Amusement glittering in her eyes, Rose raised one perfect brow. “I see you’ve become handier with a shovel.”
“Harry did the digging,” Ford said, referring to his ancient man-of-all-work—and apparently either taking Rose’s observation as a jest or failing to recognize her subtle sarcasm.
Probably the latter, Lily decided. The man was known to be rather oblivious.
An orange kitten came up and wound around her, ducking beneath her skirts to tickle her ankles. With a giggle, she bent to fish it out. “This is all so very clever,” she told her brother-in-law, smiling as she stroked the kitty’s fur and felt it begin to purr. “Can you put some water closets in Trentingham, too?”
“And have pipes running down the outside of the house?” Now Rose’s perfect brows drew together. “That wouldn’t look well at all.”
Mum shrugged. “I could accept the unsightliness for the convenience.”
“Father would never allow it,” Rose said.
To the contrary, Lily doubted their father would even notice—he rarely took note of much beyond his beloved flowers. If a thing didn’t grow, he wasn’t apt to pay it much attention.
“What’s your cat’s name?” Rand asked.
Lily gazed down at the ball of fluff vibrating against her middle. “This isn’t my cat. I’ve never seen it before in my life.” Still stroking the soft apricot fur, she looked up at Ford. “Is it yours?”
He shrugged. “Not that I’m aware.”
Of course, he wasn’t apt to pay much attention to anything that did grow, unless it was some sort of muck in a beaker in his laboratory.
“Cats just come to Lily,” Rose told Rand.
He grinned. “They must be able to tell she’s the nurturing sort.”
Lily’s cheeks heated. “I adore animals,” she said. “All animals.”
“She’s the mothering sort.” Rose sidled closer to Rand.
“Rose,” Mum said softly.
But that didn’t deter Lily’s sister. “Men don’t care to be mothered,” she purred, laying a hand on Rand’s arm and narrowing her eyes until she looked rather catlike herself. “Do they, Lord Randal?”
“I cannot speak for other men,” he said tactfully, leaving it at that. In keeping with the careful wording, he gently extricated himself from her grip by crossing to his friend. “Ford, I do believe your other guests are getting impatient.”
“And Violet asked if you’d freshen some of her floral arrangements,” Chrystabel reminded Rose.
Although Rose enjoyed turning flowers into towering works of art, she looked reluctant to leave Rand’s side. “Violet can wait awhile.”
“Now, dear, that’s not very sisterly.” Mum smiled at the men. “Please excuse us,” she said as she took Rose by the arm and led her off.
“I must give others the tour,” Ford said and
