Midsummer Moon Read Free Page B

it's much too soon to experiment with a human being. Perhaps if you could wait another few months—"
    He leaned over her suddenly with one hand on the back of her chair and the other covering her fingers in a hard grip. “Miss Lambourne—my dear Miss Lambourne—please try to understand. This is no trifling matter. A week ago a man was found dead. His throat cut. He was trying to reach my office with messages of the greatest importance. They were in cipher, Miss Lambourne, but one of them mentioned you and this—invention. It is very possible—probable—that the code was broken."
    He looked at her with an intensity that made her feel hopelessly stupid. “Is that very bad?"
    With a harsh laugh he let go of her. “Only if you value your life and your country. I intend to remove you and this invention of yours to a safe place, Miss Lambourne. Immediately."
    "Remove me! Oh, I'm afraid that is impossible, Mr.—um—"
    "Duke,” he suggested. “Please don't tax your mind with trivialities. Just gather your things and let us be on our way to a safer place."
    She stared at him. “You cannot be serious. I can't leave now, just on the verge of perfecting my wing!"
    "For God's sake, we'll take your wing with us. In fact, we'll take everything with us. I don't know what my agent meant by a revolutionary despatch apparatus, but he was no fool. I'll swear it wasn't a bloody fantastical flying machine."
    Merlin rose instantly in defense of her dream. “I'm sure that was exactly what he meant, sir! What better way to deliver despatches than by air? Why, if it is military despatches you have in mind, just think! You could have orders across the Channel in a matter of hours."
    "Nonsense,” he said. “More likely I could have a broken head in a matter of seconds."
    Merlin stood up, deeply affronted. Finding herself nose-to-chest with his muscular form was somewhat daunting, so instead of tossing him on his ear as she had desired to do, she said coolly, “Shall I see you out?"
    "I'm not going anywhere, Miss Lambourne. Not without you."
    "But that's—But you—” She spread her hands. “Oh, this is quite stupid. There is only the aviation machine. Why should you insist on my going with you if you think it's worthless?"
    He leaned against the cluttered laboratory table and crossed his arms with a casualness that aggravated her temper. “Disabuse yourself of the notion that it was your flying machine which so impressed my late colleague. I don't employ agents who are prone to hyperbole. If man had been meant to fly—"
    "Thank you very much, Mr. Duke, but you needn't repeat that old adage. I'm familiar with the sentiment."
    "Falconer,” he said.
    "Pardon me?"
    "Ransom Falconer. Fourth Duke of Damerell. Most people call me Your Grace, but really, I believe I could come to like Mr. Duke just as well. Shall you ring for tea while I take a look round?"
    Merlin drew in a dignified breath. He appeared to have every intention of standing there against her laboratory table forever. With what she considered to be freezing politeness, she said, “Please look all you like, but you will have to move aside a step if you would like tea."
    "Certainly.” He straightened, with a brief flash of that smile that had pleased her in the hallway below. It softened Merlin's annoyance and made her feel suddenly shy again.
    She ducked her head and reached for a large box on the table, taking hold of the crank and sending it whirling. After a moment, she leaned over as she was cranking and carefully closed a small metal flap between two wires. A blue arc of light crackled inside a glass jar. Merlin stopped turning the crank and put her mouth close to the cone-shaped depression in the box. “Thaddeus!” she called. “Thaddeus, do you hear me?"
    From the box came a faint, steady hiss as she waited. She tapped nervously on the table, aware of her guest's eyes upon her back. The duke would be wanting his tea, she thought, and hoped that Thaddeus would