at the laboratory. And she hasn’t even begun her experiments.”
Damn Grey’s chatty footman. “That . . . um . . . wasn’t her fault. While helping her put things away, I knocked off a jar of something called phosphorus. Apparently, it bursts into flames when it’s not kept under water.”
Grey eyed Thorn closely. “Then she shouldn’t have put the jar where it could be knocked off.”
“She didn’t.” Thorn took a large swallow of brandy. “That too was my fault. I pushed some other items around on the table, which moved the jar to the edge and then off.”
“Some other items, eh? Let me think what those might be—perhaps Miss Norley herself?” When Thorn’s gaze shot to Grey, his brother burst into laughter. “I knew you liked her.”
“Very amusing,” Thorn muttered. “You’re a regular Punch and Judy, you are.”
“Don’t forget. I’ve been where you are, and I know how easy it is to get carried away with a woman.” Grey sobered. “But I must remind you that she’s not to be dallied with. She might not have her stepmother around to look after her, but Beatrice and I are happy to step into the breach and make sure you don’t get her into trouble.”
“Trust me,” Thorn grumbled, “she can take care of herself.”
“No doubt that’s true in a chemistry laboratory. But I’m not so sure she can do so in the rarefied world of rakehells. You do have a way with women.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, I wish people would stop saying that. And I don’t have a way with Olivia, trust me. She refused my offer of marriage, remember?”
“So it’s Olivia now, is it?” Grey probed.
Thorn glared at him. “Think what you want, but what I told you last year is still true: I would never ruin a woman. You were the one to warn me years ago that one must beware of matchmaking mamas and scheming daughters. And I learned my lesson—avoid getting the scheming daughter into a compromising position.”
“I see. So the accident in the laboratory showed how you’d learned your lesson.”
“Damn it, Grey, I told you I don’t want to discuss Miss Norley.” Thorn set his half-empty glass on the table and stood. “I’m tired. I think I’ll retire early.”
Grey merely laughed. “Coward.”
“Sapskull.”
His brother narrowed his gaze. “Roué.”
“Bloody arse.”
“Well, if you’re not going to play nice,” Grey drawled, “good night.”
“Well, if ‘good night’ is the best you can do . . .” Thorn headed for the door, then paused there. “By the way, I’m going with you to the exhumation. I’d like to see how it works in case I should need to exhume my own father’s body, though I doubt it could tell me much about his accident.”
“You never know. And it’s fine if you want to come, but I’m meeting the coroner at ten, so don’t sleep too late, slugabed.”
“I won’t, scapegrace.” He fully intended to be up with the chickens, if only to see if he could catch Olivia at breakfast.
But the next morning when he came down at a much earlier hour than was typical for him, Thorn discovered Olivia had already headed off to the laboratory. Devil take her. Was it asking too much to have a few moments alone with her?
Apparently it was, because after Grey and Beatrice came down, the footman informed them all that Miss Norley had asked for a tray to be sent to the laboratory that evening for dinner. She said she would be too busy with her work to join them.
Thorn told himself he wouldn’t have time for her anyway with the exhumation going on. But the truth was, he’d spent half the night digesting everything she’d said and done, both yesterday and at their first meeting years ago, and he’d realized he might have been hasty in his assumptions. It was time they had a frank discussion about what her stepmother had held over his head years ago. But how could he do that when she avoided him?
At least the exhumation proved more interesting than he’d expected. The body of Grey’s father had been remarkably well-preserved in the tomb, partly because of the thorough job someone had done of embalming him, and partly because of the limestone tomb his coffin was in. Or so the coroner had explained.
Although unburying the dead was a grim task, he and Grey had been relieved to find that certain organs of Grey’s father had been preserved in lead-lined chests. Apparently that was sometimes done for the interment of nobility, especially