*

Kevin Radnor might never be enthralled by women, but this machine obviously captivated him mind and soul. She had demanded a viewing and an explanation, and he gave her one. At length. She would say her presence became secondary, except she could tell he added little asides for her benefit, lest she not comprehend his lesson.

Which she did. Mostly. At the least, he convinced her that the enterprise was not built on air. The peculiar piece of machinery he’d invented seemed capable of great things.

She kept one eye on him the whole time. Not that he noticed. She watched how talking about this endeavor enlivened him. She found that charming, and she experienced a kinship with him through it. She’d been just like this when she made her Richmond millinery shop a reality. Nothing else had mattered after she took the first step. She’d worked tirelessly to get it all done just right, and her first day of business had been one of triumph.

He had devoted himself to this invention. He had even proposed marriage because of it, to a most inappropriate woman. No one could say Kevin Radnor was not single-minded in his ambitions.

When his monologue finally waned, she jumped in before he found his second wind. “What is the enhancement you want to procure? How will it improve this?”

“It connects here and adds a valve that will allow pressure to also be read and mapped.”

She dared not ask how it would do that. If she did, she might be here all day. She strolled away from the table. “So it is indeed an enhancement, but not necessary.”

“Not essential, no.”

“I think that if you can’t settle that in the next month, we should move ahead on our own.”

Silence near the table. Utter stillness. He looked at the machine, not her. She braced herself for another row, one in which he mocked the opinion of a milliner on such important matters.

“We are in agreement,” he finally said. “You are more generous than I am. I think two weeks is enough. One more try at it, then turn away and give it up.”

He surprised her. From the way he looked at her, she suspected the reaction was mutual.

“To that end, I will go to France on Monday’s packet,” he said. “I’ll meet with the other party and see if that part can be salvaged.”

“France?” She suddenly felt light-headed. “Where in France does he live?”

“Paris.”

Paris. Minerva had said that Charles lived in Paris.

She forced restraint on her exploding excitement. “You will need me to sign documents if an agreement is reached.”

“I was going to bring them with me, already signed by you.”

“What if some small change is made? The slightest one will make what you bring useless.”

“I’ll have new ones drawn up, signed, and return with them. After you sign here, we can post his copies back to him.”

That would never do.

She pretended to be thinking hard. “It would be better if I went to Paris too, so it can be settled at once, if it is settled at all. We don’t want to risk a change of mind once we have reached an agreement. I am coming with you.”

His gaze sharpened. “What about your lessons? Your shop?”

“I will inform my tutors that my lessons must wait. Mrs. Ingram has come up from Richmond and can deal with the shop for a while.”

“Traveling together—it isn’t done, Miss Jameson.”

“We will not travel together. We will travel at the same time, but independently. I can’t object if you are on the same packet as I, or staying at a nearby inn.”

His expression revealed misgivings—but also a vague amusement and—could it be calculation? “It would be more appropriate for you to travel with a companion or maid.”

“Nonsense. I am not some girl. Besides, it is really not your decision. The timing is fortunate. I will be able to see the new styles in Paris and adapt them to my own hats and bonnets. I had intended to journey to Paris in the summer, but now will be more pleasant anyway, and I won’t be totally on me—my own.”

He shrugged. “It is not necessary, but . . . to avoid another row, I will allow it.”

“To avoid another row, I will not say that it is not for you to allow or not allow.” Relieved that he had not argued more, she gave the engine another good look, then eyed the invention. All the while she reveled in fantasies about her imminent reunion with Charles. She itched to be alone with her memories and plans.

“I should leave now. I have much to do before Monday,” she said.

He escorted her out. They waited in the portico while a servant went to procure a hackney carriage.

“Hotel Le Meurice,” he said. “That is where I will be staying. It is attuned to English tastes. There are others, of course. Minerva can probably advise you.”

She pushed aside her daydreams and considered the man standing beside her. He was behaving extraordinarily well, considering the way this visit had started. Her presence ever since had probably been a trial for him, yet he never showed that.

“I am sorry about how I reacted to your proposal. My response was not gracious.”

His only answer was a slight nod of his head.

The hackney arrived. After the servant handed her in, she spoke to him through the window.

“I am curious about something, Mr. Radnor. You said that the enterprise was one reason for your proposal. What was the other?”

He stepped up to the carriage window. She found herself gazing into his eyes, unable to look away.

“Marriage was an honorable way to have you in my bed. Now I’m left with the alternative.”

The carriage rolled just then, leaving her gaping at the open window.

Chapter Eleven

“What do you think?” Mrs. Ingram asked while she and Rosamund sorted through a delivery from one of the warehouses. This one consisted of ribbons and notions, along with some expensive silk flowers. Another included an assortment of ostrich and capon feathers.

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