Midsummer Moon Read Free Page A

light eyes were alert and piercing. “And what have you made that does work?"
    Her shoulders drew down. Of all the questions he might have asked, that one was the least welcome. She looked at his shiny boots amidst the dustballs on the floor. “Nothing, I'm afraid. It's very discouraging. I believe the whole problem is weight and propulsion. And stability, of course. The models are so difficult to upscale. The wooden struts are too heavy, you see, and that makes the wing proportions far too—"
    "Quite,” he interrupted, just as she was gaining momentum in her explanation. “And you've had no progress in anything besides aviation?"
    Merlin raised her eyes in surprise. “Oh, no. I've devoted all my thought to the flying machine. And truly, I have had some little success with my models—"
    "Yes, of course.” He was frowning at various objects in turn around the room. “But nothing else? What is that, for instance?"
    Merlin looked at the carved mahogany piece that had caught his attention. He was scrutinizing it with an intensity that suggested he hoped it might hold the secrets of the universe.
    "Uncle Dorian's old wardrobe,” she said timidly. “I keep an extra cloak in it."
    His mouth flattened into annoyance, and she added in hasty self-defense, “It gets quite cold in here in the winter."
    "No doubt.” The duke lowered his brows, glowering at her in a way that made her feel quite giddy. “Miss Lambourne, I must be truthful with you. I've come here in the utmost secrecy on behalf of His Majesty and the Lords of the Admiralty. It has come to our attention that you are in possession of a device which could be invaluable in the defense of your country."
    "I am?” Merlin asked in a small voice.
    His half-smile returned, this time with a much more unpleasant hardness to it. “I had hoped that you would not be so foolish as to deny it. I can provide you with every necessary evidence of my identity and my position with the government, so you need not fear that you are dealing with the other side."
    "Oh, no!” she said. “Of course not.” She put her forefinger to her lower lip, just remembering in time not to bite her nail. “What other side is that?"
    His gaze lingered a moment on her hand. She quickly lowered it and folded her fingers in her lap.
    "The French, Miss Lambourne. You are aware that we are at war?"
    "Well, yes, I—” She met the cold disapproval in his eyes and added humbly, “I'm afraid I don't go out much."
    "So I apprehend. Let me assure you that we are, indeed, at war and in need of every patriotic effort which our citizens can provide."
    A heavy silence filled the room as Merlin tried very hard not to drop her gaze like a chastened child. She had a notion that the duke would not like such craven behavior. She wished that he would smile at her again as he had in the passageway below—an honest smile and not this ironic curl of his lips.
    "Miss Lambourne,” he said, “will you not help us?” She swallowed and nodded. He looked at her expectantly. Another long pause followed while the waiting lift of his brows gradually drew down into another frown.
    "Miss Lambourne, I beg you not to play games with me. Where is the invention?"
    "The invention,” she repeated, her eyes widening in comprehension and distress. “ My invention? Oh, dear, but it wouldn't be of any use to you at all. It's far from ready—the wings aren't at all satisfactory, and the body from the model won't work in full size. I have to put all the stabilizing and maneuvering equipment at the aeronaut's feet, and there's very little space. I haven't even tried it myself yet."
    He gave a huff of impatience. “I don't mean your damned flying machine!” He swept the room again with a frustrated glare. “There must be something else—haven't you anything else?"
    "No, no, I told you—I haven't wasted a minute! I've worked on the aviation machine since Uncle Dorian died. And I'm very close. Truly I am. I'd like to help you, but