Storing Up Trouble, стр. 66
“Harvey’s looking rough,” Norman said, nodding to Harvey. He was standing beside Theodosia, who’d retrieved her book from the ground and was, peculiarly enough, reading it again.
“The poor man got headbutted by James McCaleb, the one and only criminal we captured, who then made a rather spectacular escape.”
“He got away?”
“He did. Theodosia and I tried to go after him, but Harvey, unfortunately, intervened. He apparently thought that we, as women, had no business pursuing a member of the criminal persuasion.”
Norman’s hold tightened on her arm before he nodded. “Odd as this may seem, for once I find myself in full agreement with Harvey.”
Chapter 24
For some unfathomable reason, the second after those words left his mouth, Beatrix’s nose shot into the air. She then sent him a glare, shrugged her arm free, and stomped away. Mort, to Norman’s surprise, trotted past him a second later, not bothering to spare Norman a single glance.
Finding himself more than a bit bewildered, Norman strode after Beatrix, catching up with her in no time. “Forgive me, but I get the distinct impression that I’ve somehow annoyed you again.”
She stopped in her tracks and plunked her hands on her hips. “Of course you annoyed me. Here I was beginning to believe you were coming around in regard to how you view women, but apparently, I was wrong about that.”
“What do my views on women have to do with any of this?”
“You just said you agree with Harvey, after I told you that he took Theodosia and me to task for wading into the fray.”
Norman blinked. “I agree with Harvey because the two of you could have been grievously injured, and that would have distressed me more than I can say.”
Beatrix blinked back at him. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh, but I do apologize if what I said came out wrong.” He smiled, and then winced when the action reminded him he’d recently taken a blow to the face. “The only excuse I have, though, is that I fear I’m not myself at the moment, not after what just happened, and what happened earlier today.”
“What happened earlier today?”
“Someone broke into my home, but—” Norman looked up and gestured to the officers still milling around—“perhaps now isn’t the moment to get into all that.”
“I’ll expect you to tell me everything at some point,” Beatrix said, moving into motion again until she reached Theo’s side, Mort stopping directly beside her, where he proceeded to nuzzle Beatrix with his nose.
“That’s an interesting animal you’ve got there,” Harvey said to Beatrix, dabbing at a small trickle of blood running down his cheek with a handkerchief.
“He’s Norman’s.”
Harvey sent a nod Norman’s way. “Ah well, I suppose you have your reasons for owning a donkey, Norman, and I must say it does fit your reputation as an eccentric about town.”
“Mort’s a mule,” Norman pointed out. “I purchased him at an auction because he’s rather odd, quite like myself, and he was being overlooked because all the horses at the auction were prime specimens.”
Harvey frowned. “You bought him because he’s odd?”
“That, and I overheard a man say Mort was destined for the glue factory if he wasn’t sold that day, which made it impossible for me not to buy him.”
Beatrix moved closer to him and placed her hand on his arm. “You saved him from the glue factory?”
The touch of Beatrix’s hand on his arm sent a jolt racing through him, one that left him feeling as if his brain had been scrambled as well.
“He did,” Theo said, looking up from where she’d been riffling through an etiquette book and pulling Norman from a state of what could certainly be considered shock. “I think it speaks to Norman’s sensitive nature.”
Not certain he was comfortable with Theo delving into his sensitive nature, because from what he’d read, sensitive natures in gentlemen left ladies with the impression they were not manly men, Norman opened his mouth, but swallowed the argument he was about to make when Beatrix sent him a smile.
It was a lovely smile, filled with genuine warmth, which made him think that perhaps he’d been wrong about the whole sensitive nature business.
“Oh, lovely, you still have my pistol purse,” Beatrix said, interrupting his thoughts as she nodded to the small pistol he was clutching in his hand. “Were you able to get it to fire again?”
Before Norman could answer, Harvey stepped forward. “What do you mean, fire it again?” He nodded to Norman. “Did you shoot at those criminals?”
“I didn’t. Beatrix did. Hit one of them in the shoulder.”
Harvey’s eyes went wide as he considered Beatrix. “You shot a man? How did I miss that?”
“You were preoccupied,” Theo returned. “And before you start lecturing Beatrix about the inadvisability of her shooting a man, she had no choice in the matter. If she’d not pulled out her pistol and taken action, Norman could very well be dead right now.”
Harvey turned to Norman. “Why would anyone want to shoot you?”
Having no reason to avoid the question, Norman shrugged. “Someone’s been trying to steal my research pertaining to double electrical currents. The danger has apparently escalated, what with how my home was burgled this morning and how I was just set upon by some of the same men who tried to divest me of my research when they held up a train I was recently on.”
Harvey blinked. “Who would possibly want to steal your research? Seems a curious thing to want to steal, and most scientists, myself included, take pride in making new discoveries on our own.”
“I’ve narrowed down my list of suspects considerably of late, although given recent events and the unexpected intelligence of the person evidently behind the attempts to steal my research, I’m going to have to rethink that list.”
Harvey tilted his head. “Who do you believe is trying to steal your research?”
“I originally thought it could be any of the men who