Chapter 4 Aurelie #2
She turned to wave at him in reassurance, but her heart was thundering in her chest. Mr. Everard hadn’t moved, but when she
turned back toward him, he seemed to loom even closer. “I’m sorry, sir.” She stepped back until she could feel the cold metal
of the gate against her spine. “You must have the wrong person. I don’t—”
“Don’t worry, Miss Blake. You aren’t in any sort of trouble. On the contrary. I’m hoping you can help me. That we can help
each other.” His eyes, so icy only a moment before, warmed with a smile.
The bells began to toll seven o’clock. The servants would wonder where she was. She should tell this man to go and pray that
her rudeness didn’t get back to Mr. Morel. But something stopped her.
No one had spoken the word invention out loud to her unless it was a warning or a curse. And this man hadn’t said it that way. There had been no caution, no vitriol:
only an undercurrent of wonder.
Two voices were warring in her head now, each urging the opposite of the other. Stop. Go. Progress. Stagnation.
Caution. Invention.
It was no surprise which won out.
“I need to get in for dinner,” she said, glancing behind her at the guard. “Perhaps you’d like to join me?” It was a risk
inviting this man in, but she wouldn’t be alone with him. Her uncle’s servants all knew her well and would make sure she was
safe. She’d ask the guard to escort them to the cottage. Besides, he was a friend of Mr. Morel. Kiara’s family wouldn’t have
anything to do with someone nefarious.
“Oh, I couldn’t impose,” Mr. Everard said, placing his hand on his chest. “Another time, perhaps.”
“It’s no imposition, really. My uncle’s cook always makes too much food. I’m sure there will be enough. Please. I’d like to
hear more about your . . . proposition.” She turned to the guard before Mr. Everard could refuse. “Would you mind escorting
us to my uncle’s house?” she asked him. “Mr. Everard will be joining me for dinner.”
Aurelie sat in her usual place with her back to the window, her gaze focused on the far end of the table. It was the first
time she’d ever dined with anyone without her uncle present, and she had a bizarre, unsettled feeling that this was what dinner
with her future husband would feel like. Two strangers with eight feet of space between them, forced to make conversation
out of thin air.
In the light of the chandelier, Mr. Everard was more of everything he’d appeared to be outside.
Tall, with smooth white skin, thick hair the color of copper, and those piercing blue eyes.
She doubted he was much above thirty, yet she felt like a child sitting across from him, and not only because she was petite.
She had the distinct impression this was a man who had seen things.
Who traveled, yes, but who also had experienced so much more of life than she had.
He hadn’t even spoken since they sat down, but he radiated confidence and purpose.
Aurelie wished she could be a little more like that.
The young male servant flashed an uneasy smile as he placed Aurelie’s soup before her. She offered a reassuring nod in return.
“So, Mr. Everard,” she said when they were alone. “Please, tell me more about why you’re here.”
He left his soup untouched and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “As I said, I know the Morel family.”
Aurelie sat up straighter. “How are you connected?”
“A distant cousin,” he said, which was vague enough to be disconcerting. She’d hoped for a more solid connection. “Mr. Morel
speaks so highly of you. He said you’re an excellent bricoleur, with unique ideas for solving complex issues.”
Aurelie felt a wash of pleasure mingled with surprise. Mr. Morel was a kind supervisor, but he’d never complimented her about
her work.
“The truth is, Miss Blake, I’m in need of someone like you. A forward thinker. A person not constrained by societal expectations.”
The hairs on the back of Aurelie’s neck prickled again. Had Kiara told Mr. Morel about her laboratory? Was this man here to
blackmail her, or possibly even arrest her?
Everard glanced around the room, as if confirming they were truly alone, and leaned forward, his voice dropping. “I need you
to create something for me.”
Create. Such a simple word. And yet to bring something into existence out of nothing was a power so vast it was almost godlike. She’d
had only a mere taste of that power with her inventions. At one time, she had hoped it would satisfy her. But each invention
only left her wanting more.
“Yes?” she breathed.
He rose and approached the chair next to her. “May I?”
A shiver of doubt crawled up her spine, but she nodded, her pulse quickening at the thought that one of the servants could
enter at any minute.
“I should warn you, Miss Blake. There will be considerable danger involved in what I’m proposing,” he said as he sat down
beside her.
She stared straight ahead, afraid that if she met his eyes, she would lose her nerve and ask him to leave. Everything about
this conversation was taboo. “The demon, you mean?”
“Yes, of course, though it’s more than that.” He leaned closer, his mouth just inches from her ear. She inhaled sharply at
the sheer brazenness, noticing absently that Everard seemed to have no scent whatsoever.
“This invention will be near impossible,” he whispered, his breath tickling the loose strands of her hair. “Many have tried
in the past and failed. I know what you’re thinking, Miss Blake. Why come to you, when men with far more experience and education
have failed time and time again?”
At that, Aurelie bristled. Yes, she was young, but she’d been working for over a decade. She squeezed her hands into fists,
prepared to defend herself, but Everard pressed on.
“But the truth is, Miss Blake, it is your youth, your innovation, your potential that have convinced me that you are the person I’ve been seeking. Should it work, should you prove yourself up to the task, my dear . . .” He lowered his
voice to a whisper. “You will be ushering in a new world. One where invention is welcomed, not feared.”
Her eyes flew open as she turned to face him. “What?”
“That’s right,” he murmured. “A world where you can invent freely, for all to see. Imagine the opportunities for a young woman
like you. Imagine the future you could choose for yourself, by yourself.”
Aurelie’s cheeks burned. She felt as though this stranger was peering directly into her soul and laying bare her secret desires
for all to see. “How do you—”
He held a finger to his lips. “No more questions. Not here.” He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a folded piece
of paper, his gaze never leaving hers. She suddenly understood why a rabbit froze when it fell under a predator’s glare; she
could scarcely breathe, let alone move.
“Everything you need to know is written here.” He set the paper on the table between them. “When you’ve had a chance to look
it over, you can contact me at this address.” He held up a business card and waited for her to take it, his long fingers brushing
against hers as he pulled away. They were cold as ice.
“I hope it goes without saying, but don’t speak with anyone about this. Even our dear friend Morel. If you decide against
it, there’s no need to contact me. I’ll assume you’re uninterested if I haven’t heard from you in a week. But, if you are
willing to help me, I am prepared to offer you a hefty sum.”
He rose then, and Aurelie felt compelled to stand, even though her body felt numb from the waist down. Everard began to walk to the front door, and she trailed him like a puppy, his business card still clutched in her hand. Before she could formulate a response, he was donning his coat and hat.
“What about your dinner?” she asked inanely.
“Alas, I’m afraid I have another appointment I must get to. I do hope I’ll be hearing from you shortly.” He reached for the
door handle himself, as no servants had materialized. “Remember, discuss this with no one, Miss Blake.” He flashed that incongruous
smile again, flooding Aurelie with a reassuring warmth despite his warning. “After all, not everyone is a visionary like you.”