“Isn’t good to stand about in the open.” Edison nudged her toward their borrowed hansom.

Henry sat up behind the passenger compartment like a real driver. When he saw them approach, he jumped down from the driver’s bench to open the door.

Ada smiled her thanks. She’d just gathered up her skirts to climb the steps when she caught her name being shouted out.

“Mrs. Templeton? Mrs. Templeton, wait!”

Before she could react, Edison heaved her up into the cab. Legs tangled in her skirts, she slid across the floor. Her head banged into the far wall, crushing the delectable little chapeau.

“Damnable hell.” She yanked the thing out of her eyes and tossed it on the seat before struggling to regain her feet.

By the time she reached the doorway, Edison lay sprawled across the pavement, a pair of legs in charcoal trousers sticking out beneath him. He pressed his full weight down on the figure he’d flattened, one large hand between the man’s shoulder blades.

He growled. “What do you think you’re about?”

As the man’s face was ground into the pavement, his response was nothing but a low rumble.

“What’s he saying?” Edison asked Henry.

The boy crouched down close to the man’s mouth. “Here now, what are you going on about?”

“F-f-flowers.”

“He said, ‘flowers,’” Henry repeated.

“I heard.” Edison eased his weight off of the man’s back just enough to allow him to turn his head. “What about them?”

“F-for Mrs. Templeton.” The man wriggled a hand beneath him, reaching for a jacket pocket. “… show you.”

“Stop.” Edison shoved him back down. “Could be a weapon.”

A great whoosh of air left the man’s flattened lungs. He groaned. “N-not a g-gun.”

“He says it’s not—” Henry began.

“I heard.” Edison gave the boy a hard look. “I’m going to turn him over. Be ready.”

As Edison sank back on his heels, Henry raised his fists, as if readying for a fight. Edison grabbed the stranger by the shoulder and flipped him onto his back.

“Ouch.” The man winced as the back of his head connected with the pavement.

“Bloody hell!” A voice from the crowd rang out. “He’s got that man—”

“What’re you about there!” Another man yelled.

A group of well-dressed gents gathered around the carriage, shock plain on their faces.

Edison ignored them, his attention on the man he’d just smashed to the pavement.

The scent of roses wafted up from the ground.

Now that he was face-up, Ada could see the poor thing was rather young. Old enough to grow a thin mustache, but with cheeks still plump with youth.

A bouquet of pink roses peaked out between the folds of his jacket, their blooms crushed and torn.

“For the lady?” Edison yanked the ruined flowers from the man’s coat and held them up to the light, squinting at the tangle of wilted blooms as if were a dangerous weapon.

“I’m an admirer,” the slender man offered, but the fear in his eyes suggested he was rethinking his allegiance.

Ada rushed out of the carriage, all but tumbling down on top of the poor, abused dear. “I am so terribly sorry.” She grabbed the ruined bouquet from Edison and pressed it to her bosom. “They’re lovely.”

“They were,” the man muttered.

She set the flowers inside the carriage. “My… cousin is overly concerned about my welfare.”

Edison scooped his hands under the smaller man and set him on his feet. “With good reason.” He glared down at the white-faced man. “You should know better than to come rushing up on people.”

The man’s jaw dropped open. “But I—”

“No matter.” Edison brushed dried leaves from his victim’s shoulders. “No harm done.”

“To you.” Ada glared at him. She reached out and shook the man’s limp hand. “I do apologize most vigorously.”

The man yanked his hand from her grasp and backed away, eyes wide.

Before she could think of anything more reassuring to add, he retrieved his hat from the pavement and scurried off down the street.

Anger rose up in her throat, tightening her jaw muscles until her teeth ground together. Anger at the pig who had turned her life so upside down she was frightened of a kind stranger. Anger at Edison for his hotheaded ways.

The instant he joined her in the carriage, she rounded on him. “Was that really necessary?”

His head jerked as if she’d slapped him. “The man rushed up and reached into his coat. Should I’ve waited for him to shoot you? Plunge a knife into your chest?”

“They were flowers.” The words barely made it past the anger clogging her throat.

“Could have been a weapon.”

“That’s how you think, isn’t it?”

He gave her a wary glance, as if expecting an attack. “It’s how I keep people alive.”

Ada turned her back to him. “By imagining there’s a killer behind every pillar and post?”

“It’s better than the alternative.”

“I don’t agree.”

“What do you mean?”

Ada twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I’m not sure this is worth the price.”

Nor was it worth the torture.

It wasn’t just that poor man, although she rather liked the idea of having an admirer.

It was Edison. It was the way he breathed. The way he moved and talked and... existed.

She couldn’t stand being in the same space with him. Couldn’t stand looking at his beautiful mouth. Couldn’t stand breathing his distinctive scent.

She couldn’t sit across from him for one more second, knowing she’d never spend another night in his arms.

Grief choked off her air. She stretched toward the door handle. “I’ll walk.”

* * *

Edison reached the handle of the carriage before her and held it shut. “You will not.”

With the other hand, he rubbed his freshly shaved chin. What in blazing hell had gotten into the woman?

“Let’s be off,” he called out to Henry. The sooner they got moving, the sooner she’d calm down. He hoped.

With a sharp jolt, Henry guided the horse out into the noontime traffic.

Ada retreated to her corner of the seat, as if his mere presence offended.

Still wary, Edison stayed balanced on the edge of the bench, ready to block her exit, should she try again. Henry had the coach moving now, but they weren’t rolling fast enough to deter her if she got it in her mind to fly out.

The clatter of wheels over cobbles filled the small space.

“That was foolish,” Ada said. “I apologize.”

Edison swallowed the rebuke on the tip of his tongue. It had indeed been a foolish impulse, from a woman not given to them. Clouds scudded across the sun, changing the light from bright to dark and back again, blasting her face with white light, then plunging her into shadow with disconcerting rapidity.

Much like she must feel. He tossed down the fake spectacles and pressed the heels of his hands against his tired eyes. From her life of scholarly reflection, she’d been dropped straight into a fight for her life.

And then some.

Enough to put anyone off their game.

And the worst of it was yet to come. One way or another, she’d come face to face with the monster who wanted her dead.

That couldn’t help but change a person. Facing that kind of evil stripped away innocence.

Once she looked evil in the eye, she wouldn't see the world—or him—in the same way.

Ada was staring out the window, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the handles of her handbag.

If he moved his leg a few inches, he could touch her.

He ached to hold her, to run his hands over her curves, to kiss her while she moaned in pleasure.

None of which would make their parting less painful.

He curled his fingers into fists, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms. His acting skills were superb. She had no idea how hard it was to maintaining his distance.

It was killing him.

The little hat, wire stems of its glass cherries twisted and bent, sat on the seat next to him, radiating disapproval. She wouldn’t believe it now, but she’d find another man, an intelligent, educated man of good breeding. A man who’s station matched her own.

A man whose good nature hadn’t been fractured by a life spent learning to recognize the base, the selfish, the criminally minded.

“It’s hard to believe this time tomorrow we could have him,” Ada mused, her focus still on the passing scenery. “I look forward to having my laboratory back. I can only imagine the Hapgoods will be ready for a break from Grandmama.”

“She’s charming.”

“She’s a trial.”

Edison nodded. He pleated the knees of his trousers between his fingers, searching for a way to keep the conversation going.

“What will you do after all this?” he asked. “You must have other ideas you’d like to develop.”

“Something requiring only calm and quiet,” Ada said, her tone weary. “I could go quite a long time without any more excitement.”

Though it was no more than he expected, her words stung. “Wouldn’t blame you.”

Without so much as a glance in his direction, she nodded in acknowledgement.

He wasn’t good at chitchat. He was bloody awful at it, really, but the silence ate at him, making his nerves jangle.

Edison cleared his throat. “I’m hoping my automatic butler will be stable enough to perform some basic functions with a high degree of reliability. I could do with a few weeks without interruptions myself.”

There was no response from her side of the cab.

Brick-brained as he was about feelings and such, he had the sense even that innocuous topic had put a poor twist on things.

Nothing for it but to plow ahead. The alternative was painful, icy silence. “Once we get the power regulation correct, your battery’ll make an outstanding power source. I should like to commission one as soon as possible.”

Ada shrugged. She pressed a finger to the glass, tracing a line back and forth across the bottom of the window. “If things progress as intended, Stanton should be able to spare a battery or two. Production was scheduled to begin within the month.”

Edison winced at her flat tone. The happiness—the pure elation of discovery—no longer vibrated in her voice.

With a rustle of silk, she turned toward him. Her expressive mouth was pressed into a flat line as rigid as her shoulders.

It killed him a little, the tightness in her posture. It was as if he could actually see the fragile new skin of cynicism that had grown over her heart.

She gave him a cold smile. “However this… adventure turns out, it’s been quite a journey.”

He wanted to say something profound, something heartfelt and soul-baring, but he couldn’t make the words pass his lips.

He pressed his fists into his thighs. When it came to feelings, he was a craven coward.

A coward who didn’t deserve a lion-hearted woman like Ada.

Better that she run now.

The cab rumbled forward, tilting sharply as Henry took a corner at speed. Ada fell toward him, her knee brushing his. She pulled back as if the contact burned.

Once again, she closed in on herself, like a flower closing up at sun set. “I shall look forward to returning home,” she said stiffly.

“I imagine so.”

“Sooner rather than later.”

“Another day or two, and we’ll have the bastard. No reason you can’t go then.”

“I mean today.”

“It’s too dangerous—"

“I’ll hire protection.” Her hands fisted in her lap, she gave him a hard look. “If you don’t have any recommendations, I’m sure Inspector Burke can suggest some officers who’d welcome the extra income.”

Edison stiffened. “There is no one as good as we are.” No one he’d trust with her life.

“Good enough, I’m sure.”

He tried to tamp down the spurt of anger that made his heart hammer against his ribs. “I don’t leave a job unfinished.”

“It isn’t up to you.”

Edison threw her a look.

“But then you make your own rules, don’t you, Mr. Sweet?” She laughed, an ugly, bitter sound. “How fortunate for you.”

“Fortunate isn’t the word I’d use.”

Ada turned away. “Nor would I.”

That cold, heavy silence filled the coach again. It swirled between them like a winter fog, freezing everything it touched.

And Edison didn’t have the least idea how to thaw it.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time,” the words tumbled from his lips, taking him by surprise. “I’ve enjoyed your company.”

Ada’s sad smile jabbed him in the chest, making his breath hitch in his throat. “I was hoping for rather more than enjoyment.”

“That wasn’t what I meant, exactly.” Edison’s mouth worked. Open. Closed. Rather like a fish flopping about on the banks of a creek.

She shrugged. “I know what you meant.” She turned to face him. “Despite what you must think, I’m not completely ignorant. I never expected our… liaison to mean as much to you as it did to me.”

“That’s not what I want you to think.”

A short, sharp laugh tumbled from her lips. “You may control a great deal, but you don’t control my feelings.”

“No, of course not. I—"

The carriage jerked to a stop. The boy had found an open spot at the curb in front of their offices. He climbed down from his box and opened the door.

“We’re not done.” Edison glared at the youth. “Go away.”

Eyes wide, Henry moved to close the door, but Ada stuck her hand out. “You’re mistaken, Mr. Sweet. We’ve said everything that needs to be said. Twice over, at least.” Her dark eyes bored straight into him, daring him to contradict her.

Henry held the door wide, waiting.

Ada slid off the bench and stumbled out of the coach. Once she was on the pavement, she turned back toward him, her gaze distant. “There’s an old saying about rubbing salt into a wound. It’s unnecessary. And cruel.” She slammed the door behind her.

The small space reverberated with the clang of brass against wood. Edison rocked back against the cushions. He watched her follow Henry into the building, his heart curiously numb.

He’d meant to ease their parting bit by bit.

Instead, he’d dumped too much accelerant onto too much flammable material and incinerated the whole blasted thing.