Powder of Love (I)

by Summer Devon

  For a moment, unfamiliar resentment seethed through her. Why did everyone think she had solutions? What if she got the answer wrong and ruined something important? Rosalie had barely understanding or determination enough to run her own life.

  But Hawes looked so bereft, she had to speak. She managed to smile. “Perhaps you should come calling properly. Like a suitor.”

  “Front door, you mean, ma’am?” He sounded almost outraged.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I could send her on errands and ask you to use the open carriage. That might be a way for you to conduct a conversation.”

  “Streets are too dusty and noisy for a lady like her.”

  She gave up, though she was glad he had argued with her. He might be a servant, but he had his own strong mind. “You’d best drive on, Hawes. I think those shouts and whistles are being directed at you.”

  He carefully slid the door shut.

  When they arrived at the doctor’s office, Rosalie didn’t wait for Hawes, but at once jumped out of the carriage and ran to the entrance. A maid opened the door and led her to the sitting room, where the doctor stood, the gray parrot on his shoulder. Rosalie thrust the hatbox at Dr. Leonard.

  “Here,” she said. “Inside this is the box. I have decided to allow you to keep the whole of it for yourself.”

  He beamed at her. “Your generosity is astounding. Thank you.” The smile faltered slightly. “But I have been thinking and believe you are right to want a formal contract. I went so far as to draw one up.”

  He put the parrot in the cage, rummaged around one of the piles of paper on his desk, and handed about five pages to her. The document looked like a fairly straightforward receipt with her conditions added in pencil. She felt relief when she saw he would store the powder in a safe.

  “May I see the safe?”

  “It hasn’t been delivered yet. The manufacturer promised to install it in four days. It will be as secure as a bank vault.”

  She felt the pressure deep inside her release slowly, like steam from an overheated engine. He was taking the matter of the powder seriously enough to calm her fears.

  “Thank you,” she said. She’d put down the hatbox with the powder to read the contract. Now she pushed it toward him with her foot rather than touch it again. She’d been thinking about Mr. Reed so much lately, perhaps it had something to do with just being close to the thing. “And there you go.”

  “We’ll have to weigh this.” He opened the box. And then began to open the other box.

  “No.” She put out a hand. “That’s a bad idea. You’ll want some sort of protection for your skin and maybe your face so you don’t breathe it in.”

  He frowned at the box, then at her. “All right. I am a trained scientist, you know, so I don’t want you to worry about a thing. Would you like to see the laboratory again?”

  She nodded and followed him down the hall to a back room.

  “The university has agreed to allow some of my students to work on this project,” he said as he donned a pair of glasses and pulled on thick cloth gloves. “I hope you don’t object to the students?”

  She had no idea what she should say and settled on, “As long as they’re well-informed and well protected.”

  He laughed. “Oh yes, we err on the side of too much information.” He opened the first box and drew out the second. Turning the small dark inner box around and around with his gloved fingers, he held it up to the light and close to his face. Too close.

  His hands stilled. At last he put the box down, but she wasn’t ready to relax yet.

  He patted it. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” When he looked over at her, he wore a dreamy expression, as if listening to some sort of faraway music. The expression sharpened as he examined her.

  “Doctor? I, um, wonder if you’re feeling something different?” she asked. “I think you’re not wearing enough to protect you from the effects.”

  His smile broadened. “Yes, I can feel the effects. Very interesting.” He stripped off the gloves and pulled off the glasses. “Peculiar. It is as if I can feel every bit of my body.” He put his hand palm down on the little box. “Mm. And now I can feel that as if it were a jolt. Have you ever touched electricity, Miss Ambermere? Felt the small, prickling sting of it?”

  He rubbed his hands together and took a step toward her.

  “No,” she said. “I have no desire to, though my mother swears by the treatments.”

  “Does she get the stimulating treatments?” He drew in a huge lungful of air—she could see the way his nostrils flared. “Do you know what those are for, Miss Ambermere? What they accomplish for a woman who ignores her needs?”

  “My mother doesn’t ignore her needs,” she said and backed away.

  When he looked at her again with eyes far too bright, she glanced around for something heavy.

  He rubbed his hands through his dark brown hair. “What were we talking about? Ha. Does it matter? Talk barely matters at this point. Now is the time to take action.” Another step closer. She decided to head for the door.

  “Do you know the experiments should not just be about the makeup of the material?” His voice was a low croon. “We should also test if the special powder changes perceptions for not only the affected persons, but for anyone with whom they have contact. Shall we see if the electricity could pass from my body to yours? You have an inquiring mind, Miss Ambermere.”

  “Yes, but not at the moment.”

  “And a most suitable body.”

  “Do excuse me, Doctor. I must be going.” She skittered through the door and walked rapidly to the sitting room, where she collected her hat and the hatbox. Too late to take other steps. She’d escape and then look for help.

  As she turned to leave, she gasped. The man moved quickly.

  He filled the doorway. “Miss Ambermere, I think in the interests of science you should kiss me. Or allow me to kiss you. I see you don’t like that idea. How about just a touch of my hand to your body? Exposed skin would be best, I believe.”

  “I think perhaps you should consider going to your bedroom and locking yourself in for a while.”

  He gave a broad, bright grin. “Wonderful. Yes, wonderful. Come along.”

  “Alone!” she said.

  The smile faltered. “Oh, I see. You don’t understand, do you? It’s what we’re made for, Miss… What is your first name? It’s our only purpose.”

  “Dr. Leonard—”

  “Phillip. Call me Phillip.”

  “Dr. Leonard, the effects will take a couple of hours to pass. You should probably spend that time alone.” She backed away. “Wait. Since you’re already affected, maybe you should put the toad gland powder back in the box. Sir! Listen to me.” For the first time, she shrieked. “Put it all away. Now.”

  He pursed his lips and seemed to sway, as if he was concentrating. “Yes, you’re right. I shouldn’t leave it lying around. Come with me, and I’ll put the boxes back together.” He tilted his head toward the laboratory. “Well? Are you coming with me?”

  She probably should make sure he put the one box into the other without inhaling any more powder. “I’ll follow,” she said. “I promise.”

  He walked slowly, looking over his shoulder at her and beaming. He looked at her too often, because a second later, she heard a small cry and a crash. He’d run headlong into the maid.

  He laughed and put his hands on the maid’s shoulders. “Steady now, dear?”

  “Yessir. I apologize, sir. I didn’t see y—mphm.”

  He’d bent and kissed the maid, and was now pulling her roughly against him. The maid didn’t move, just stood, arms at her sides, tight in his grip, eyes open. She didn’t pull away.

  “Stop,” Rosalie shouted. “Dr. Leonard, you shouldn’t be doing that. You’re not in your right mind.” But shouting didn’t seem to work this time, and now the maid’s hands were creeping around his waist. He groaned and tightened his grip.

  “Dr. Leonard. You must sto
p.” Rosalie yanked at his arm. The maid wiggled and twisted at last.

  “Excuse me. You’re right.” Breathless and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he stepped away. “I need to ask, dear, for research purposes. Was that better than usual?”

  Usual? Oh Lord.

  The maid turned a bright scarlet and fled.

  He turned his unfocused, dreamy smile on Rosalie again. “Why don’t you try? Just for a minute?”

  “No. You’re putting the boxes away. Remember? The boxes.”

  “Of course. Yes. Wouldn’t want poor Mary to find those.”

  “Who?”

  “The maid. She didn’t answer my question. But I am certain that was better than my usual kiss. Of course, there is a routine, and that kiss broke the pattern, so it isn’t a fair comparison,” he said as he walked to the table and deftly pushed the smaller box into the larger, then slapped the lid on. His fingers stroked the outside box.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Routine doesn’t equal passion, Miss Ambermere. And I don’t do anything with Mary during the day or standing up. So that would add spice, of course. But really, it was better—more passionate—than I recall. Even that first time, of course, when she came to my room because she’d heard a frightening noise.”

  Add loose, careless talk to the list of symptoms. Emily certainly had indulged in that. Only, come to think of it, Mr. Reed had barely spoken. He’d fought the symptoms. Dr. Leonard clearly did not.

  “Now I have taken care of your boxes, I must see if the passion extends to other females. Science,” he said cheerily as, with surprising strength, he yanked her hands up and over her head.

  “No,” she said as he marched her backward and wedged her against a wall.

  He pressed his still kiss-dampened mouth to hers.

  She turned her face to the side. “Stop it.” He licked along her neck, slurping and sucking wetly.

  Rosalie bent sideways to get away. “No, I don’t think the passion extends. I’ve answered your question. Stop.” With a huge tug, she pulled one hand from his and shoved him. He barely moved.

  He held her in place with his body and scowled at her. “This is important,” he said. “This is research. I need to know. I need to feel you properly.” The playfulness was gone, and now he pushed his body against hers in a marked, rhythmic manner. She wiggled and squirmed, and as he grabbed at her hands, one of Johnny’s lessons came to mind.

  She lifted her knee up sharply between his legs.

  “Jesus.” He let go of her and bent over, gasping.

  She swept up the box and turned to run out of the room. Someone grabbed her. “You’re stealing! You hurt him!”

  “Ow! Stop! No, I didn’t,” she said. “He hurt me.” Rosalie pointed to her neck, where she was certain a red patch showed.

  “Put that down,” the maid shouted, and rather than argue, Rosalie put the box on one of the workbenches lining the room.

  “Sir, sir, she’s trying to steal from you.”

  The doctor had recovered, though he remained slightly bent. “It’s fine, Mary. I overstepped my bounds. Shall we return to the sitting room?” He gazed happily at Rosalie, apparently a forgiving sort of a man—or perhaps the powder muted pain.

  She had to remind herself that it was the powder speaking, not him. And he was her one chance to get rid of the substance. She had to work with him. “Yes, all right. But I will walk behind you and at a distance. I’m sure you understand, Doctor.”

  He spoke over his shoulder again. “I will be more careful, Miss Ambermere, and make sure you enjoy the experience.”

  They’d been walking through the narrow hall, but she stopped at these last words and started to back away. He moved quickly and was close to her again. How did he manage that, she wondered, and then he rested his hand on the back of her neck. His thin fingers squeezed just a little. Threatening or just a touch, she wasn’t sure, but she squirmed and tried to duck away.

  The maid put her hands on her hips. “Sir. You’ll do her? She don’t want to. You got me.”

  He allowed Rosalie to escape and turned to face the maid, the too-broad smile on his face. “Two at once might not be a bad idea. One could be the control, and the other might have the same exposure I had to the glandular powder. You’d be the control, my dear Mary. Miss Ambermere, since she is more reluctant, will be the subject of the test.”

  He grabbed Rosalie’s wrist. He certainly seemed less interested in controlling himself than Mr. Reed had been. Under her growing panic was a twinge of annoyance at both men.

  The maid shouted, “Hey, no.” The small woman came forward and tried to pry his fingers off Rosalie’s arm—as did Rosalie.

  “Enough.” Rosalie tugged uselessly. The doctor was stronger than he appeared. “You must use your mind as well as your brain.” No, that made no sense. She tried again. “You must think about what you are doing. Stop. This isn’t right. Sir!”

  The door crashed open.

  Mr. Reed didn’t say a word as he shoved the maid and Rosalie behind him with a sweep of his arm. Reed then twisted and punched the doctor in the jaw. The doctor collapsed in the doorway of the sitting room and lay still.

  “You killed him,” Mary squeaked. She knelt down next to the doctor and stroked his hair.

  Mr. Reed rubbed his knuckles. “I doubt it,” he said with a touch of regret, then sounded more cheerful as he added, “unless he hit his head going down.” He turned to Rosalie and hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she said briskly and fought a sudden, ridiculous urge to laugh. “He opened both boxes. And gloves and glasses weren’t enough protection.”

  “Where is the stuff?”

  “He closed the boxes up again, and it’s in his laboratory.”

  In the sitting room office, the parrot whistled and shouted, “Bad girl,” over and over.

  Mr. Reed pulled a watch from his pocket and looked at it. Why on earth would he do that? Did he have a schedule? Eleven o’clock, knock out a man? The sight made the laughter inside her threaten to bubble up again. Mr. Reed tucked away the watch and said, “We’ll fetch the box, and then let’s get going.”

  Rosalie stepped over the doctor and sank onto a chair. “Give me a moment. I need to think.” And calm down, she didn’t add. “Perhaps you’re right, and we should take it away, but I’m not certain. This would happen to anyone when first opening the container. At least now he’ll know how serious the problem is. And he did seem to consider the scientific aspects of it. During the rest of…of his response.” She felt her face redden. What if Mr. Reed had plastered himself against her in that manner? She knew from the ache that held her now—an ache that spread to her very toes—that she might have protested, but not for long. She wondered if the doctor’s actions had aroused her, and decided no; it was Mr. Reed’s presence.

  “He’s waking up,” Mary said and clambered to her feet. “Thank the good Lord. I’m going to go get a cold compress for him, poor Dr. Leonard. Don’t you touch him, or I’ll yell for the police, and I got a whistle for just such a thing.”

  She glared at them both and left.

  Mr. Reed pulled something else from his pocket.

  Irons. He hoisted the doctor by the armpits, dragged him over to the desk, and locked him to it. The casual, experienced way he’d punched the doctor and now handled the shackles and the unconscious man shocked Rosalie almost more than the doctor’s behavior had.

  Mr. Reed was not a gentleman.

  “Do you carry those everywhere you go?” she asked.

  “Only lately,” he said. “Once I understood about that powder. And sometimes, during the full moon, Clermont can become more aggressive than usual.”

  Mr. Reed rose to his feet and looked down at the man who was now groaning. “So even though he attacked you, you’re willing to let him have the aphrodisiac?”

  The maid returned with a basin and a towel. She gaped down at the doctor. “Hey, you can’t le
ave him attached to the furniture like that.” The water sloshed as she slammed down the basin and dropped to her knees next to the man again.

  “Excuse us for a minute.” Rosalie grabbed the empty hatbox. “We’ll be right back.”

  She was glad to hear the footsteps of Mr. Reed as he followed her down the hall to the laboratory. The box lay on the workbench, innocent-looking and small.

  Chapter Five

  Reed still shook with anger, but if Miss Ambermere could remain calm after what had happened to her, he could at least pretend to follow her example. He pointed at her hatbox. “Should I put it back in there?”

  Miss Ambermere shrugged, a small, hopeless gesture. The calm was perhaps only because she was overwhelmed. He wanted to go to her and gather her into his arms and croon meaningless phrases until she lost the dazed look.

  “I don’t know what to do. The thing is, my mother has been searching for it. And my mother…” She shrugged again, even more hopeless.

  “Ah.” Now he understood why she had hurried away secretively to get rid of it, and it cheered him far too much. Nothing to do with a lack of trust in him.

  “We should decide what to do and then leave here soon,” he said. “Your mother and Clermont will be waiting. I think he’s at your house.”

  She nodded. “All right. I’ll take it with me. But we can’t just leave the doctor in shackles like that.”

  Reed wasn’t sure that was a bad idea, but he said, “I can wait another ten minutes. That might be enough time to decide what to do about him. Clermont is so determined to find the powder, I needn’t worry that he’ll cause any other sort of trouble.”

  “How would he do that?”

  “You do have females working for you?”

  “Yes, of course, but… Oh. Never mind.”

  Reed went to the box and held his breath as he scooped it up, using his handkerchief to protect his fingers. He dumped the box and handkerchief into the hatbox.

  He went to a water basin, washed his hands, then let his breath out with a whoosh. “I hope I’ll notice if my behavior changes, but I think I’m safe. Tell me if I start to behave badly.”