Every Whispered Word by Karyn Monk Read Free Book Online

to hurl lit firecrackers in Stanley and Bert’s direction until their terrified forms reached the end of the alley and disappeared. Finally he turned to Camelia.
    â€œMr. Kent,” she gasped, astonished. “What on earth are you doing here?”
    Simon stared down at her, swiftly taking in the dark smudges on her face, the wild tangle of her hatless hair, the tear in the shoulder of her gown, fighting to control the fury coursing through him. When he had first ventured down the alley and seen that enormous ox holding Camelia captive while that puffed up piece of filth threatened her, he had been consumed by a rage unlike any he had ever known. Fortunately, his customary logic had kept him from racing in like an idiot. He was alone, he had no weapon, and he did not flatter himself by imagining that he would be able to single-handedly take on a giant like Stanley—especially with little Bert waving a pistol in his direction.
    Then he remembered the firecrackers stored in the coat he had put on before leaving his home.
    â€œIt suddenly occurred to me, Lady Camelia, that the carriage you had climbed into bore the crest of Lord Hibbert, who happens to be one of my neighbors. I was somewhat perplexed by this, especially when I looked outside again and found the carriage was still there, apparently waiting to drive Lady Hibbert to visit one of her friends. Lord Hibbert told me that you had mistakenly climbed into his carriage and then bolted down the street. My curiosity was sufficiently aroused that I decided to go looking for you—just to find out if you ever did manage to find your own carriage.” He arched a sardonic brow.
    â€œThank you for your concern—although I can assure you I would have been able to deal with those two thieves.” Camelia raised the hem of her skirts and slipped her dagger back into her boot.
    â€œDo you customarily go about with a blade in your boot?”
    â€œLondon can be dangerous,” she remarked. “That is one of the reasons why my father came to dislike it so—there are thieves everywhere.”
    â€œThose men didn’t strike me as common thieves.”
    â€œOf course they were,” Camelia insisted. Not knowing how much Simon had overheard, she decided it was best to downplay the incident. “All they wanted was my reticule and—sweet saints—they took my reticule!”
    â€œIs that where you put the drawing you stole from me?” His expression was impassive.
    â€œI was only borrowing it. I didn’t think you would mind, since you weren’t using it anyway. I had every intention of bringing it back to you.”
    â€œAfter you had given it to someone else to copy and use as the basis for your steam pump? I believe the law would rule that removing my drawings from my home without my consent is stealing, Lady Camelia, however you may wish to paint it otherwise.”
    â€œBut you said you weren’t interested in protecting your inventions and ideas—you told me science and technology would never advance if scientists hoarded their discoveries,” Camelia argued. “And since you didn’t have the time to invest in that steam pump, I saw no harm in borrowing the sketch from you—just for a little while. But now it’s gone—this is terrible!”
    â€œIf it makes you feel any better, I don’t really need the sketch—that particular steam engine design is engraved in my mind.”
    â€œBut now they know I’m in London to arrange for a steam pump!”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThose two ruffians,” she hastily replied. She did not want Simon to know that she was being watched. “I’m just worried that now they will sell your invention to some other scientist, who will build it and take the credit and make lots of money from all your hard work.”
    â€œI’m touched by your concern,” Simon reflected dryly. “What I don’t understand is