to hurl lit firecrackers in Stanley and Bertâs direction until their terrified forms reached the end of the alley and disappeared. Finally he turned to Camelia.
âMr. Kent,â she gasped, astonished. âWhat on earth are you doing here?â
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 Stanleyâespecially 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.
âIt 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 youâjust to find out if you ever did manage to find your own carriage.â He arched a sardonic brow.
âThank you for your concernâalthough I can assure you I would have been able to deal with those two thieves.â Camelia raised the hem of her skirts and slipped her dagger back into her boot.
âDo you customarily go about with a blade in your boot?â
âLondon can be dangerous,â she remarked. âThat is one of the reasons why my father came to dislike it soâthere are thieves everywhere.â
âThose men didnât strike me as common thieves.â
âOf course they were,â Camelia insisted. Not knowing how much Simon had overheard, she decided it was best to downplay the incident. âAll they wanted was my reticule andâsweet saintsâthey took my reticule!â
âIs that where you put the drawing you stole from me?â His expression was impassive.
âI was only borrowing it. I didnât think you would mind, since you werenât using it anyway. I had every intention of bringing it back to you.â
âAfter 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
âBut you said you werenât interested in protecting your inventions and ideasâyou told me science and technology would never advance if scientists hoarded their discoveries,â Camelia argued. âAnd since you didnât have the time to invest in that steam pump, I saw no harm in borrowing the sketch from youâjust for a little while. But now itâs goneâthis is terrible!â
âIf it makes you feel any better, I donât really need the sketchâthat particular steam engine design is engraved in my mind.â
âBut now they know Iâm in London to arrange for a steam pump!â
âWho?â
âThose two ruffians,â she hastily replied. She did not want Simon to know that she was being watched. âIâm 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
âIâm touched by your concern,â Simon reflected dryly. âWhat I donât understand is