Page 23 of An Inventor and An Inconvenience (Gentleman Scholars #5)
J asper's candle burned low as he hunched over his workbench, surrounded by scattered drawings and half-assembled mechanisms. The mining device sat neglected in the corner, while his newest invention—a system of carefully calibrated bells and triggers—consumed his attention.
"It has to be silent until needed," he muttered, adjusting a delicate spring mechanism. "Completely unnoticeable..."
The basic principle was simple enough—a series of pressure plates connected to hidden bells that would warn of approaching footsteps. But making it discrete enough to avoid detection while remaining reliable? That was proving considerably more challenging.
His latest letter from his father lay unopened on the desk, its seal gleaming accusingly in the candlelight. There would be questions about his progress with the mining device, demands for updates on the investor meetings. How could he explain that he'd found something more urgent, more meaningful?
The prototype clicked softly as he tested the pressure plate. Too loud—it would draw attention. He needed something quieter, perhaps using the same distributed force principle that had worked so well in his mining device...
"Of course," he breathed, reaching for a fresh sheet of paper. If he adapted the pressure distribution system, spreading the weight across multiple smaller triggers instead of one large plate...
His pencil flew across the page as the design took shape. This wasn't so different from his mining work, really. Both required careful consideration of force and movement, both aimed to make dangerous situations safer. The only difference was the scale—and the motivation.
A memory surfaced: Faith's face as she described her students' progress, the way her eyes lit up when discussing their achievements. How could he focus on anything else when she and her girls were in danger?
The clock struck midnight, startling him from his work. He'd been at it for hours, missing dinner entirely. Lucy had tried to remind him earlier, but he'd waved the maid away, too absorbed in solving this puzzle.
Jasper stretched, his back protesting the long hours bent over his workbench. The prototype was coming along well, though it still needed refinement. He'd adapted one of his gear assemblies to create an almost silent warning system, using counterweights to maintain perfect balance until disturbed.
His eyes fell on the mining device again. Lord Ashworth would be expecting progress before releasing any funds. His father would be demanding results soon. Everything he'd worked for, everything he'd promised to achieve as the third son determined to prove his worth...
And yet, when he thought of Faith's students—girls like Lucy and Annie, fighting so hard just for the chance to learn—his father's approval seemed less crucial somehow. What good was winning the Marquess's respect if it meant turning his back on those who needed help?
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. A servant entered, bearing a fresh candle and a concerned expression.
"My lord, a message arrived from your father's steward. He'll be here tomorrow to review your progress with the mining device."
Jasper's stomach clenched. "Tomorrow?"
"Yes, my lord. He specifically mentioned the importance of having substantial improvements to show, given the investment opportunity with Lord Ashworth."
After the servant withdrew, Jasper stared at his workbench—at the warning system he'd spent days developing instead of refining his mining device. The practical choice would be to set aside Faith's project, to focus on what his father and the investors expected.
Instead, he found himself reaching for his tools again, determined to complete the prototype before morning. He could work on the mining device after, find some way to satisfy his father's demands. But this—protecting Faith's school, supporting her mission—this couldn't wait.
His hands moved surely now, assembling the delicate components with practiced care. Each piece had to be perfect, had to work flawlessly. Faith was trusting him with not just her safety, but the safety of her students, the future of her dream.
As dawn began to paint the sky outside his workshop windows, Jasper held up the completed prototype. It looked innocent enough—just a decorative brass fixture that could be mounted near a door or window. But inside lay an intricate system of triggers and silent alarms, ready to warn of approaching danger.
He began carefully packing it away, intent on showing it to Faith as soon as possible. The steward's impending visit loomed in his mind, along with all the expectations and pressures that came with being the third son of a Marquess. But for the first time in his life, Jasper found himself caring more about something else—someone else—than his father's approval.
The morning sun caught the brass fittings of his mining device, still waiting for crucial improvements. Jasper paused in his packing, the weight of his choices pressing down on him. Everything he'd worked for, everything he'd promised his father...
And yet, as he secured the warning system in its case, he felt more certain of his path than ever before. Some things were worth risking everything for.