Chapter Ten #3
“Maybe we could see this show again later,” she suggested, her eyes sparkling. “I don’t think you learned much this time.”
“I—no, thank you,” Henry said. “I think we have enjoyed enough.”
Her face fell.
“But this is a splendid institution,” Henry added. “I am eager to see the other exhibits.”
She forced a smile. “I’m glad you like it.” He could actually see her muster up her good cheer, like hoisting a patched sail to manage a rude squall, and it made him feel that she was the finest woman he’d ever met.
Besides Charlotte, of course. But putting on a smile as she braved disappointment had been a talent of his beloved wife’s, too.
Rose had said he hadn’t learned much from the show.
On the contrary: he’d learned a great deal.
Despite his bad temper when she’d first met him, she had a high opinion of him.
Higher than he had of himself, truth be told.
She’d developed an affection for him…and what he felt for her had already swelled beyond affection.
But he didn’t have the slightest clue of what to do about it.
—
Two hours later, as they stepped outside the planetarium, the daylight seemed obnoxious to Rose.
They’d wandered through exhibits about the planets, space travel, and the birth and death of stars. It had given her ample time to wonder just what the hell had happened in that auditorium.
She’d been lost in a delirium of passion, romantic images flitting through her mind. She’d felt as though she’d found exactly what she’d been missing. She had been certain that her spell had worked, after all.
And then Henry had immediately regretted kissing her. With just a few words, he’d made that clear.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Miss Novak,” he said to her now, looking around at the lake and the skyline. He cleared his throat. “I fear I must apologize for my shocking behavior earlier.”
“You mean…the kiss?” She wanted to curl up in a ball. Of course that was what he meant. She just didn’t want him to apologize for it.
“Yes.” He met her gaze, and she sensed that took some effort from him. “I do not know what came over me.”
“Well, it was my doing, too,” she said with a laugh, though it wasn’t a joke, and she felt more like crying.
“No, in fact, I do know what came over me,” Henry corrected himself, looking upon the vast lake. A breeze toyed with her hair. “You are a lovely woman with a sweet temper, and I utterly forgot myself and my present circumstances.”
Oh.
Rose leaned her head a bit to intercept his gaze.
“But that’s what I think of you, too. I mean, you’re not a lovely woman.
You’re a lovely man.” That wasn’t exactly the word she was going for, but smoking hot would require some explanation.
“And you don’t have a sweet temper, exactly…
” He raised an ironic brow. “But you’re honest and really smart and I like you a lot,” she added in a rush. “So you don’t need to apologize.”
He was looking at her lips again. “An amorous entanglement would be wrong,” he said soberly. “If there is any way I can return to my time, I will.”
She didn’t ask the question her mind shouted: But what if you change your mind? Of course he wouldn’t stay here on purpose. He was a duke who lived in a palace.
“Besides,” he said, “I am certain I can never truly love any woman but my late wife.”
Rose’s spirits sagged. That was very romantic of him…unfortunately for her.
“Thank you for being honest with me,” she said. If they weren’t going to get involved, it was better to know sooner than later. “I suppose we can be friends, though?”
“I know you did not mean to bring me here, and you have done much to befriend me,” Henry said. “I am honored if I am counted among your friends.”
She managed a smile. “Okay, pal.”
As they walked back to the train station, she looked at the skyscrapers reflected in the aqua water. In her own time, in her own big city, there had to be someone who was right for her.
Fleetingly, she thought of Aaron Coleman. He would be in one of the hotels right around here. After he’d found out he’d be in town longer to investigate an apparent vandalism, had he thought of her? Had he already decided there was no point thinking of her, since she’d flat out told him that?
On the way home, Henry had questions about how the skyscrapers had been built, but she wasn’t much help. Once they’d gotten home and she’d taken Andy War-Howl around the block, she found a Wikipedia page on the topic.
“Here, you can read at the table while I figure out something for dinner,” she said, setting the laptop down. “Are turkey and cheese sandwiches okay?”
“Of course.”
“Oh! But we should learn about Victor Reuter.”
“Is there a way to do so?”
“Of course.” She picked up her plate, got up, and circled the table to take the chair right next to him. “Look, we’ll do Wikipedia.” Henry’s sharp gaze traveled from her fingers to the screen as she typed the name in the search bar. “That’s him.”
Henry raised his eyebrows. “First, can you show me again how you found that?”
“Sure.” She scooted the chair closer to him and angled the laptop. “What’s a topic you’d like to know more about?”
“Refrigerators,” he said promptly.
It took a few minutes to show him how to search, and when she put her hand over his to place it on the trackpad, little fairy lights seemed to sparkle along her nerves at the touch, even though she let go of him again immediately. They pulled up a detailed page on refrigeration.
“My God,” Henry said, as though he’d witnessed the explosion of a star. Well, his brain was probably exploding, right about now. “How long would it take to read this Wikipedia?”
“You can read it now if you want,” she said, figuring he really was curious about refrigeration. He looked at her askance, and then she realized she’d misunderstood him. “Wait, you mean…how long to read all of Wikipedia?”
He nodded.
“Well, you can’t. I mean, it’s impossible. There’s too much for one lifetime.”
“I see.” His elbow on the table, he pressed his knuckles to his lips thoughtfully, contemplating the screen. “What a remarkable resource.”
Henry insisted on doing the search for Victor Reuter, which took hunting, pecking, a muttered Damnation, and the introduction of the backspace key.
They read it together. She felt hyperaware of his presence, so close to her they were practically touching.
If she had been anyone else, would he have moved a little farther away?
“I only knew Reuter as someone who gives to charities,” Rose said. “I didn’t know about all the lawsuits.”
“Yes. Organized crime, real estate fraud, breach of contract, and more real estate fraud.” Henry pointed to the photo of him grinning, in a heavy parka, while on a trip to Antarctica. “And yet, for seventy-two years of age, he seems remarkably hale and spry.”
“He does.” He obviously stayed fit, and a superrich guy could probably afford to have excellent work done, if he wanted to. Rose wouldn’t have judged him for that—his face was his business—but she definitely judged him for all these accounts of him screwing people over.
“Clearly, the charities are a feint,” Henry said.
It was Rose’s turn to be confused. “What’s a feint?”
“If you are boxing, it is a motion that makes your opponent believe you will do one thing, and then you do another. Let me demonstrate.” He got to his feet.
“For instance, you lunge forward and pretend to be about to throw a punch”—he moved his fist a few inches forward—“but as he blocks it, you change your angle.” He raised his elbow and mimed a hook.
“Got it.” As Henry sat down again, she asked, “You go to boxing matches?”
He shrugged. “I have been to a few.”
She wasn’t surprised. He was interested in literally everything. Well, except her, as it turned out, but no point dwelling on that.
Henry frowned thoughtfully at the laptop. “Can you learn about anyone on here? Including people from my time?”
“If they were rich or famous.”
His shoulders sagged a little. “Of course.”
“Why? Who did you want to look up?”
“Uh…my butler, for one.”
She hadn’t expected that. “Why? Oh! Are you worried he wouldn’t have a position?”
“Well, yes. If I disappeared unexpectedly, my sisters might have dismissed many of the staff. But also…” His face colored slightly.
What was he embarrassed about? “The fact of the matter is, I intended to settle a goodly sum on my butler’s daughter, so that she might make a fine marriage, and I was not able to do it. ”
“Oh, wow.” Rose leaned back in her chair, impressed. “Did he know that?”
“Of course not,” Henry said crossly. “I was dreading having to tell him, though I could figure out no way around it.”
She laughed. “Why were you dreading that?”
“No doubt he would feel the need to express his appreciation,” he grumbled. “It was going to be irretrievably awkward.” Rose found that adorable. A lot of people would’ve basked in that kind of gratitude.
Henry pressed his knuckles to his lips again, deliberating. “Moreover, I worry that my sudden disappearance may have cast undue suspicions on him. Or anyone in the household, truly, but butlers are often suspected in such cases…and a valet tried to kill his master, not long ago.”
Rose hadn’t even thought about that. “They couldn’t arrest him, though, could they? Without any evidence?”
“No, I should think not. But even suspicion could besmirch his reputation, and then who would hire him? How would he provide for his wife and family? And he has been with my family since I was a boy.”
The stressed note in his voice touched Rose’s heart. She’d gotten the wrong idea about him before, thinking he didn’t care about anyone who worked for him.
“What was your butler’s name?”
“John Brady.”
Rose sighed. “That sounds like a common name. But we can try.”
For the next half hour, with Henry watching intently over her shoulder, Rose tried and failed to find any record of Henry’s butler.
“This is a fool’s quest,” Henry finally declared, pushing his chair away from the table. “There is nothing else for it. I must get back home.”
Andy War-Howl had come to sit next to Rose’s chair, giving her doleful looks. “I need to walk him,” she said.
Henry nodded. “Can you first direct me back to Wikipedia?”
“Sure.” She pulled it up. “But you can’t believe everything you read online, okay?”
Henry frowned up at her. “Are you saying that people use this”—he gestured toward the laptop—“to circulate lies?”
“It’s mostly for lies,” she admitted.
“But why?”
“There’s a lot of money in lying. Plus some people think it’s funny.”
“That’s appalling.” He drew back a little in his seat, as if the Internet might infect him.
Henry really was honest. More honest than she’d like, sometimes, but she still admired it.
He asked doubtfully, “I don’t suppose you are acquainted with anyone who owns a substantial science library?”
“Uh…Chicago has libraries. You could take my card and check out books.”
A faint line of puzzlement appeared between his brows. “You are a member of a library?”
“Yeah. The big one’s not far from the museum.”
“I have heard of such library clubs and societies, but they are far too dear for common folk.”
Rose laughed. “Yes, it’s very exclusive, but you can be my guest. In the meantime, I think Wikipedia is mostly accurate.”
“Thank you. Might I trouble you for a pen and paper?”
“Sure. Hang on.” She grabbed a notebook off the end table in the living room, found a pen in a kitchen drawer, and set them next to him. “Here you go.”
He peered at them. “Might I also trouble you for some ink?”
“It’s right in the pen. You don’t have to dip.”
“Ah. How convenient.” He flipped it open—and then froze, looking down at the words on the page. “What is this?” He flipped the page over.
“Oh, I forgot I wrote in there.”
Henry’s stare was dark and intense, as if he was trying to see right into her soul. “Why did you write this?”