Page 37 of Duke of Eccess (Seven Dukes of Sin #4)

“Yes,” James added. “And there have been no more incidents with pistols. Your clock mechanism occupied me for days, Your Grace.”

“I’m pleased to hear that.” Enveigh’s expression softened as he regarded the children. When he looked back at Octavius, however, that warmth evaporated. “It seems you have an affinity for taking what doesn’t belong to you,” he murmured, just loudly enough for Temperance to hear.

She stiffened. She didn’t belong to either of them. The very suggestion made her stomach knot with indignation.

“I take only what is freely offered,” Octavius replied, his eyes darkening to near black. “Perhaps you should consider why your offers go unaccepted.”

The air between the men crackled with tension. Before either could speak again, the footmen dimmed the lights in the room further.

“Attention, attention,” called the host with a slight German accent, who, according to the program, was a Herr Schultz. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Marvels of Electricity.”

The knot between Temperance’s shoulder blades loosened as the host’s announcement drew all attention to the front of the room. She could once again breathe after the charged exchange between the two dukes, though she suspected their confrontation would probably resume after this pause.

“This is a simple piece of amber,” said Herr Schultz as he took a large piece of amber and began rubbing it against a piece of fur.

“He’s creating electric fluid,” Temperance murmured softly to the children.

The demonstrator then lifted the amber over the pieces of fluff and feathers and they rose and stuck to it. When he lifted the amber higher, they didn’t fall. A light applause came around the room, though she was aware this was a simple trick. Most people were familiar with this one way or another.

Then the man rolled out the electric machine. It was a wooden apparatus with a large glass orb that was connected to a handle, and there was a brush attached that touched the glass orb. If there was mercury inside that orb, it would glow when the man started spinning it.

An assistant of Herr Schultz began spinning the handle and the glass orb spun with it as well.

In a few moments, it began to glow, the room dark enough for it to be seen.

A collective intake of breath swept through the audience, followed by scattered murmurs of “Remarkable!” and “Extraordinary!” Temperance explained in a low voice to the children that it was electric fluid, an invisible force drawn out by the rubbing of the glass with the brush.

Then Herr Schultz positioned a brass rod with a round metal knob near the spinning glass.

This was the conductor and was going to collect the electric charge.

As the machine spun, sparks flew between the glass and the metal rod, and James gave a little gasp of excitement when a tiny blue spark snapped in the air.

Delight filled Temperance at the children’s fascination.

“Like lightning,” whispered Margaret, and Temperance quite agreed.

After several more demonstrations, including one where a boy was suspended above the stage, Herr Schultz announced, “And now I would like to make the demonstration of Aphrodite Electrificata,” called Herr Schultz as he walked close to the spectators. “I need a pretty young lady.”

Before she knew what was happening, before she could hiss that it was quite impossible, Margaret had softly pushed Temperance between people so that she burst out of the crowd right in front of Herr Schultz.

“This pretty young lady,” called Margaret excitedly, and Temperance’s face was completely red and hot.

“Very well, she will do.”

Herr Schultz grasped her hand and tugged her after him, even though everything in her was desperate to return to Octavius’s side.

A round of applause exploded around her.

Herr Schultz had already pulled her onto the stage, and she physically couldn’t wrench her hand from his.

This wasn’t good. If her stepmother’s men had followed her here, they would see her very clearly.

Herr Schultz placed her on the insulating platform made of resin. “In this demonstration,” he announced, “the lady is turned into an electric Aphrodite, charged full of the invisible energy.”

Aphrodite … She remembered the wonderful way her body had felt when she put on that mask in Octavius’s room of sin. Her gaze met his across the crowd, as though he had read her thoughts. It was easy to find him, as he towered at least a head higher than most people.

“And here,” continued Herr Schultz, “she will be charged with electric fluid. After that, a gentleman will attempt to kiss this young lady.”

Children in the audience giggled at the mention of a kiss.

“It will not be a regular kiss, mind you,” said Herr Schultz, looking sternly at the children. “There will be no improprieties here. It will be an electric kiss. No danger to the virtue of this lady will happen.”

He gave Temperance the metal rod, which she held close to the spinning glass.

She knew what to do, had felt the charge many times.

As the assistant began spinning the wheel, the few loose pieces of hair that had pulled free from her usual tight chignon began to rise and a tickle spread across her skin.

An electric charge was building up in her.

“We will now need a willing gentleman to try to kiss this electrified Aphrodite,” called out Herr Schultz.

The crowd moved and at first, Temperance could see Enveigh making his way to her, but someone larger and bolder elbowed Enveigh away, pushed his way through the people, and burst through the crowd to her.

Octavius.

Temperance couldn’t breathe. She did not want anyone else but him to kiss her, especially not in public, and her heart leapt in her chest at the sight of him so determined, his eyes dark, his honey-blond eyebrows drawn together as he made his way to her in quick steps.

Behind him, Enveigh stood with his fists clenched and a deep scowl on his face, his upper lip drawn up in a sneer. He looked insulted. Murderous, even.

“Now, sir, please step forward and attempt to give the lady a kiss on the cheek or the lips. The lady will try to avoid the kiss if she can, and we’ll see what happens.”

Octavius stepped to her. Even though Temperance was on a little platform, he was still towering over her.

He leaned in to give her a kiss, and she avoided him with a smile.

She could feel her skin tingle the closer he came, partly from the electrical charge in her body, but partly from the wild thrumming beneath her ribs she felt whenever he was near.

He tried from the other side and she moved away again.

A mischievous grin spread on his face as the crowd laughed and murmured.

He leaned in once more, and she remained still, mesmerized. But just before their lips could touch, a sharp snap lanced between them and pain jolted through her lips. Applause erupted around them.

Octavius didn’t move, his lips mere inches from hers. He looked into her eyes as he murmured, “Miss Fields, you were never made for the life of a spinster. You were made to be a woman who knows her own worth, to enjoy all the pleasures life has to offer.”

She couldn’t breathe, but just then Herr Schultz asked them to leave the stage. As they walked back to join the spectators, movement at the corner of her eyes caught Temperance’s attention. Someone was making their way through the crowd while the demonstration continued.

Enveigh fell upon Octavius with heated words, but she didn’t hear them. All her attention was dragged to three men moving towards her.

And one of them was Mr. Finch.

All warmth drained from Temperance’s face. Cold and numb, she backed away, feet stumbling. She turned and pushed through the crowd as quickly as she could.

“Stop her!” cried one of the men, but she kept running.

One of the men’s fingers grazed her sleeve just as Temperance spotted the Leyden jar, which must have been set up for the final demonstration. Surely the jar would be fully charged for the highest dramatic effect? If so, it would be storing enough electric fluid to cause a strong shock.

Careful not to touch the metal, Temperance snatched the jar up by its glass base. As the investigator lunged for her, she thrust the jar forward.

The brass knob connected with his bare hand.

A bluish spark snapped between metal and skin, and the man convulsed as the force threw him backwards into his accomplices. All three tumbled into the crowd of spectators.

People around the room gasped and screamed as everyone turned towards the commotion. Temperance panted hard, her heart pounding as she saw Margaret and James watching her close by. She moved through the astounded crowd towards the children and hissed, “We have to go.”

Enveigh, next to the children, walked towards Mr. Finch and his men. As they tried to get to their feet, he stood over them, his back perfectly straight, his face an icy mask.

“What is the meaning of this? What do you want with the young woman?” he asked imperiously.

Octavius, clearly confused and furious, stood by his side. “What happened?”

“They were following Miss Fields,” said Enveigh darkly.

“Why?” Octavius barked, glaring at the men.

Temperance’s heart pounded so loudly she feared everyone could hear it. Mr. Finch would tell him and all of them who she really was, and she couldn’t let that happen! “They were after my money,” she said quickly. “I—I caught one trying to steal from me earlier.”

Her excuse sounded flimsy, even to her own ears. There were people here who looked much wealthier than her, with real jewels and expensive pocket watches. She knew her explanation made little sense.

Octavius’s eyes narrowed fractionally as he studied her face, boring straight into her soul. He’d shared so much of himself with her—his secrets, his fears, his vulnerabilities. He’d made her body sing, his mouth was… oh, God, where she’d never thought a mouth could be.

“Is that so?” Octavius asked Mr. Finch, his voice dangerously soft.

The man looked at Enveigh, then back to Octavius. “I…yes. A misunderstanding. I mistook the lady for someone else.”

Temperance’s knees felt weak with relief, though she most certainly was far from safety.

“You intended to pickpocket someone else?” asked Octavius sternly. “Thieves must be punished.”

“No—please…a mere warning is enough.” Mr. Finch was backing away, his gaze darting between Temperance and the dukes. “Christmas is a desperate time for many—surely you understand?”

Octavius’s face slackened in a helpless expression of hurt. Oh, Mr. Finch was smart. Had he done his research on the man? “Fine. Just leave.”

The men retreated, and Temperance wondered why.

Surely by now they knew she was in the Duke of Eccess’s house and protected by the Duke of Enveigh.

They must be afraid of their power. Though Temperance suspected they wouldn’t give up so easily.

Her birthday was approaching fast and her stepmother must be growing desperate.

She felt Octavius’s penetrating gaze on her face and forced herself to meet his eyes.

How much longer could she maintain this deception?

Every lie she told dug her deeper into a hole she might never escape.

Moreover, she risked taking him down with her.

He was defending her without knowing what danger he might be inviting upon himself, and any connection to the Mad Heiress would destroy his chances of securing the presidency of the Board of Trade he’d worked so hard to achieve.

The thought made her stomach twist with guilt.

As they collected the children and hurried towards the exit, Temperance could not help but shake.

By some miracle she had bought herself another day’s safety, but at what cost?

Mr. Finch and his men must have suspected she was under the duke’s protection, but now they had witnessed it publicly.

Octavius had placed himself directly in the path of danger without even knowing why.

Worst of all, she caught the calculating look in his eyes as he helped her into the carriage. Octavius, the Duke of Eccess, was no fool. The inconsistencies in her story were becoming impossible to ignore. With each passing day, her secrets were unraveling strand by strand.

Nine days until Christmas. Nine days until freedom.

But would her heart survive what she must do to secure it?