A Skeleton in Every House by Isabella Duke

Author:Isabella Duke [Duke, Isabella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Upon arriving at the office and spotting the thin line of red lamplight spilling from the darkroom, Catriona realised an encounter with Nate was inevitable. She felt numb and thought she must simply turn around and go home. But part of her knew he had already heard her enter.

Occupied with something on the far table, moving with an agitated sort of energy, he did not turn to face her as she stood at the threshold of the darkroom.

“You can come in, you know,” he finally said, then did turn to look her up and down. “Had a good evening?”

She ignored his comment. In her rush to leave the Café Royal, she had not buttoned her overcoat up over her pale green evening gown. “I wondered where you were off to this afternoon,” she said. “Working on something interesting?”

He wore no jacket, his sleeves rolled up. “Etching a copper plate,” he said. “Your father wishes to experiment with a photogravure process that would allow us to print at full speed.”

“May I see?” she said, stepping towards him.

“The plate is submerged in ferric chloride now,” he said, his gloved hands tilting it back and forth in a basin of dark liquid. The subject of photography was, to her, mundane and grounding. “After the etching is complete, it can be inked and printed.”

“How did you learn all of this, the chemistry and everything?” Catriona said. “I’ve never known you to be so…”

“Competent?”

“No,” she said. “I know you can be competent in whatever you wish. But you’ve never cared to apply yourself.”

“My years at Cambridge were not entirely wasted, you know, whatever Father might have suspected,” he said. For a moment, there was only the sound of the liquid lapping in the basin. “And I had time enough on my hands in the country.”

“Not time enough to write, of course,” she said.

“You say that as if you would have read my letters.”

“I would have.”

He withdrew his hands from the basin and turned to face her, his dark eyes fathomless in the red glow of the lamp. “What more was there to say?” he said. “I suppose you wanted me to beg for a scrap of your affection.”

She took a step back from him, suddenly utterly conscious of the closeness of the room. “Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about it,” she said, “if you wish to turn it into a quarrel.”

“Are you going to be cold to me forever? I know it was my fault, trying to force your—your decision…” His mouth twisted with something like regret, but before she could interrupt him, he cut himself off, swallowed hard, and grasped the table, his posture flagging all at once. “Sorry,” he said then. “I feel unlike myself.”

Her anger faded immediately. “Are you all right?” she said. “Let me fetch you some water, or I could open a window.”

“No, just give me a minute,” he said. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You’re very pale,” she said.

“I’m fine.” He straightened. The strength had returned to his voice. “Really, I’m fine now.

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