A Lady's Formula for Love (The Secret Scientists of London) by Elizabeth Everett

Author:Elizabeth Everett [Everett, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-02-09T00:00:00+00:00

3

VIOLET SAID GOODBYE to Grey one last time, closed the door, and slumped against the wall. A pair of sinumbra lamps stood on either side of a large mirror in the foyer, their glass shades casting an eerie orange light across the black-and-white tiled floor.

When Violet’s husband was very ill, she would wander the house at night in between bouts of nursing him, hammering out the details of complex formulas in her head as death hovered in the background. Here in Beacon House, the night was never silent, and she was intimately familiar with the origin of every click and squeak.

Therefore, she addressed her remarks to the large shadow in a corner without having to see him.

“You are awfully quiet for such a large man. How do you do it?”

Arthur emerged from a shallow indentation beneath the staircase. Flickering light brushed the hollows of his sun-browned cheeks.

“I have had twenty years of practice,” he answered. “It pays to be quiet when one is a counterassassin. Even when hired at a discount.”

Violet chuckled. “I don’t expect you bargained for the three of us when Grey approached you,” she said. “He calls us ‘the coven,’ you know. Did they scare you?”

“Yes,” he said dryly.

Violet laughed in appreciation, happy a real person resided within the stoic figure. “Grey described the nature of your service before he left. He said the Queen offered you a medal ceremony after you saved Lord Dickerson, yet you refused.”

Appearing unimpressed by the Queen’s gesture, he moved away from the wall. Although his gaze remained fixed on her, Violet wouldn’t have been surprised if he had memorized the exact position of the cut-glass bowl on the entry table and how many sconces were attached to the wall behind him.

They regarded each other in the dim hallway without awkwardness, an odd familiarity between them after the strange events of the night. She’d learned the shape of him before she’d even learned his name.

“Although he failed to warn me of your friends,” Arthur said, “Grey did say you have a habit of collecting ladies under your wing.”

“Letty and Phoebe are founding members of Athena’s Retreat, not wounded birds. Although he complains when they are around, he misses them when they are not.” She leaned toward Arthur with a conspiratorial air. “He’ll never admit to it, however.”

“You care for Grey.”

“Yes,” she said.

Ah. With his tone, Arthur had asked a question without asking the question—an estimable talent.

“Grey’s father, Daniel, swept me off my feet the first month of my debut season.” A familiar ache began in the pit of her stomach as she explained. “He was the epitome of sophistication and romance. He made every other man seem slow and callow in comparison, despite his age.”

The low light kept Arthur’s reaction to this confession a mystery—if he had one.

“Grey mentioned his father was charismatic,” he said.

Violet tilted her head as she considered the word. “He projected such certainty—as if he had the answer to everything. As a young woman whose brain was filled with nothing but questions, I found this quality incredibly compelling.

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