Chapter 5
air. His palms still warmed her thighs. He told himself he maintained that grip to steady her, but in all truth, his knees were too weak to stand. As she pushed her body to a more upright position, he studied her movements. Fluid. Calm. Like the ocean. Just as he had seen and felt the first day when he met her in the park. Yet he knew that something magnificent had just raged beneath the surface.
“Who are you?” The question popped out.
A smile tugged at her lips, and he could see her struggling to keep it at bay.
“I’m Lady Bridget Harrington. Though I suspect you’re asking an altogether different kind of question, perhaps regarding the metaphysical nature of my being? Or maybe I’ve got it wrong, and you’re sustaining an epistemological crisis, and you’re unsure how it is that you’re come to know me, or anything? Am I correct?”
“Yes.”
“Which one is it?”
“Both.” Arthur found some strength in his legs and pulled himself into the desk chair. Noticing her legs still wide, he took his handkerchief and wiped her delicately.
“I can do that.” She tried to nab his square, but he pulled it out of reach.
“I’m sure you can,” he mumbled, thinking back to how she had directed him according to her own pleasure. A shiver crawled up his spine.
“There,” he said as he pulled her skirts over her legs. He needed to cover those up so he could think straight. Or least attempt to.
He watched as she pushed herself off of the table. She appeared to not be as affected as he was by the encounter, for she turned her back on him and began to search for his bag full of her papers.
When she placed it on the desk and opened it up, he stood up. He was so curious to see the treasured papers that he almost missed the quiver of her body as his chest pressed gently to her back.
So she was not unaffected. He smiled.
When she bent over her notes, he slipped a hand on her left hip, as if it were the most natural thing to do. “Tell me why they’re so important,” he whispered into her right ear, his body encased around her.
If he hadn’t seen the tremble a moment ago, he might have mistaken her pause for mild chagrin, but now he realized she was trying to compose herself. It was not vexation, but resolve.
Perchance, this woman who embodied a free mind and spirit could be attached to something.
“They’re just my notes.”
“I also write notes, but I doubt I would have risked my reputation to retrieve them.”
“Perhaps your notes are not as good as mine.” He saw the corner of her mouth curl.
“Ostensibly, my note taking abilities are deficient.”
She pulled out a few sheets, and he saw some drawings of the contraption she had been riding the other day.
“Where did you get those from? How did you hear about that thing?” It was nearly impossible for an unmarried woman to attend a conference or symposium of any kind where she could glean such knowledge as to draw that. Though he wouldn’t put it past her to dress as a man, he wasn’t sure she could get away with it.
“The Glider?”
“That death trap you were gliding around on should not be called something as innocent as a Glider.”
“That’s what I call it.” She tapped some papers into place. “And it’s not a death trap.”
“It nearly killed us both.”
“Hardly.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You just didn’t know I was coming, or you would have gotten out of the way.”
She had a point. Obviously a person would make way insofar as they knew the Glider was approaching.
“You didn’t answer my question though. How did you come about the knowledge for those drawings?”
“Well, now, that is a good question. I’d rather not pit my parents against each other.” She tapped her fingers on the drawings. “If I were pressed to give you an answer, which you seem to be doing, I’d like to trust you wouldn’t let it slip. But I’m not sure I can trust you.” She peeked at him over her shoulder, behind those gorgeous gold spectacles. “Can I?”
He was stunned by the blue that held his gaze.
A few moments must have passed because she repeated the question he thought he had answered.
“Can I trust you?”
Yes. Yes, you can trust me. Even though I hardly recognize myself anymore. You can trust me fully with your body, heart, and mind. That was his answer. In his mind. Aloud, he offered something simpler, “Yes.”
“Even still, I can’t decide between the two. Unfortunately I’ll have to disappoint you in this regard.”
But he wasn’t disappointed. Shocked. Baffled. Addlepated. A few more similar feelings, but mostly curious.
“You mean to say the Glider is your invention?”
“Yes.”
Well, now he understood the importance of the papers. She was an inventor. An engineer. The bluest bluestocking he had ever met. She came up with ideas in her mind, drew them, and brought them into being. So he uttered a word he seldom did.
“Wow.”
“Am I to understand that you’re impressed?”
“Yes.” His hand gripped her hip tighter, wanting to be closer to her and know her more. “Tell me, Blue, what else has your brilliant mind invented?”
She chuckled. A soft flutter bounced on the air around them.
“I can’t share all my secrets.”
“Just one more.”
She was shuffling through the papers when he saw a drawing or a strange-looking necklace next to a naked body. It wasn’t sexual in any way. It looked…medical. Of course, his attention was grabbed.
“Wait. What’s that one?” He placed his hand over the paper before she could shuffle it behind another one.
“It’s preliminary.”
“What is it?”
“It’s for…well, it’s for listening to heartbeats and breathing.”
“Why would you use it?”
“Physicians will use it to treat their patients. Listen for irregular heart patterns or breathing. I would use it with my future children. I’d want to learn what to watch for. I’m not a physician of course, but with some attentiveness, I could better care for my children.”
Arthur’s heart was pumping so wildly that he was sure Bridget did not need a device of any kind to hear its irregular beating. She was free. But it didn’t mean she was careless. Why had he ever equated the two in his mind before? She cared. She cared too much. She cared to risk her reputation for her future and her future children.
He dropped his forehead against her shoulder.
“Blue, Blue, Blue. Through and through.”
“I hate to bring this to your attention, as my intention is not to expose all of your deficiencies, but I’m afraid either your compliments or insults are in need of improvement.”
“Mmm…I’m sure you are correct.” With that irrelevant segue, he asked, “May I call on you tomorrow?”