Seven Minutes in Heaven(87)

“Gumwater is loyal to the bone. He would never tell anyone, and he controls the household.”

Hopefully, that was true. “I shall depart tomorrow morning,” Eugenia said.

He visibly flinched. “I don’t want tonight to be our last together.”

“You received the duchess’s letter yesterday, so you were already aware of that,” Eugenia pointed out, head high. “I think I would feel more comfortable if I left as soon as possible.”

His jaw tightened. “We just agreed to take the children to the fair.”

Eugenia bit her lip, willing tears not to come. Part of her wanted to flee, but another, larger part, couldn’t bear the idea of leaving. Not just Ward, but Lizzie and Otis. “In that case, I shall leave the following morning,” she said, somehow managing to keep pain out of her voice.

That evening Eugenia fell asleep waiting for the soft click of the door opening, the rustle of sheets being pulled back, the touch of callused fingers on her cheek. She woke in the night to find that she was panting, trembling with desire.

“May I?” Ward’s voice was soft in the darkness, so tender that she could fool herself into thinking she heard love.

She pressed a kiss on his mouth by way of answer. Her nails dug into his rock-hard arse as he held her steady, hands clamped on her hips as he pumped into her, driving her to euphoria, letting her rest for a moment, before silently driving her higher again. And again.

He came one last time with a desperate groan, his eyes raking her face in the faint light of early dawn.

He left without words. Perhaps there were none to be said? Her feeling for him was irrelevant.

The four of them swam that morning as if nothing had changed, and after luncheon, set out for the fair in Wheatley. Within moments of arriving, to Eugenia’s dismay, they split into pairs. Lizzie wanted to visit the animal pens and Otis was interested in—if offended by—a game called bat-a-rat.

Eugenia would have liked them to stay together. She was shot through with anguish at the idea of her coming departure. But Ward merely bowed and left with his brother.

She and Lizzie examined all the hens for sale, while Lizzie pointed out the fact that blood went right down into their feet. Apparently in some breeds, you could see the veins.

“Some people eat chickens’ feet,” Eugenia told her. “Or consider them a good-luck token. My father has a large collection of curiosities, among them a necklace of chickens’ feet worn by a tribal chief in the American wilderness.”

“I would love to see that,” Lizzie told her, tugging her on to the next tent.

Eugenia nearly said, “You shall, some day,” but she stopped herself.

“Let’s go to that lecture,” Lizzie cried, pointing.

A placard outside a tent read, A Discussion of Chemistry in Proof of the Scientific Sublime, being given by a Famous Scientist and Diffuser of Useful Knowledge.

“Diffuser?” Eugenia said dubiously.

“Come on,” Lizzie said, tugging at her hand. “It’s already begun!”

Eugenia looked around for Ward, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The tent was small and crowded with men who frowned at them, but when met with Eugenia’s most peremptory stare, quickly vacated two seats in the last row.

Ten or so lines of chairs were arranged in a tight semicircle facing a man with a shock of ferocious black eyebrows.

“It’s Mr. Gumwater!” Lizzie squealed.

Ward’s unpleasant butler, it seemed, had a secret life in which he diffused useful knowledge for the royal sum of tuppence a head. Famous scientist, indeed!

“I can learn whatever he has to say at home for free,” Lizzie hissed. “Let’s go.”

Eugenia whispered back, “It would be rude to leave now, as it would make a commotion. If possible, a lady should never hurt people’s feelings at the expense of a small inconvenience to herself.”

Lizzie subsided with a sigh. “Being a lady is tiresome. And I can’t see.”

Eugenia pulled her onto her lap. “How’s this?”

“Better,” Lizzie said, leaning against Eugenia’s shoulder. Ruby had pinned Lizzie’s veil against her shoulders as if it were a cape and rolled it up under her pelisse, so her little frame felt particularly bony.

These days the veil, like Jarvis, was ever-present but mostly invisible.

Gumwater was holding forth about the composition of water, something about the affinity of oxygen for elements other than hydrogen.

Eugenia let her mind wander. She was trying to decide whether she and Ward should speak again, more frankly, before her departure.

But what could she say? “Why don’t you want me to stay?” sounded plaintive and humiliating. It wasn’t the right question.