“So that is an engine,” she said, trying to sound interested in the horrible-looking conglomeration of mechanical bits that apparently held more allure than his bride.

“No, madam,” Dare replied, reaching for a dirt-encrusted cloth to wipe the grease from his hands. Charlotte made a mental note to have his engine cloths replaced at the soonest possible moment. “This is an air pump, condenser, and boiler. It is part of my steam engine.”

“That’s what I said, it’s an engine. It all looks so very”—Awful. Dirty. Boring.—“fascinating.”

Dare stopped scowling and gave her a long, considering look. There was something in his eyes that suddenly had her anger melting, replaced with an odd, and hitherto inexperienced, desire to please him. She struggled for a moment with this strange new emotion.

“It is fascinating,” Dare replied gruffly, giving her another long look before noticing the man standing behind her. “Ah, there you are, Batsfoam. You have yet to finish the drawing of the revised boiler. I’ll need that before we run the first trial. Er…Charlotte?”

Charlotte, having just come to the decision that her tender feelings for her new husband were due to novelty and nothing more, remembered just why she was standing in a smoky, ill-lit room, and so did not notice the note of hesitancy in her husband’s voice as he spoke her name.

“Did you want me to show you what I’m working on?”

She opened her mouth to make a scathing comment, but the strange need to please him grew within her. Somewhat abruptly, she realized that Dare was no longer scowling, that his voice was warm and caressing, and his eyes were glittering with some glad emotion. She glanced at the machinery. She truly had no desire to hear about it, no desire in the least; she simply wanted to complain to her husband about his servants, get his approval to make the changes she deemed necessary, and have someone undress her so she could go to bed and enjoy the benefits of being married to a man who stole her breath every time she looked at him.

“I…I…” The last of her annoyance evaporated as his eyebrows rose in hopeful expectation. How could she refuse such an offer? She couldn’t. Something inside her melted to a warm, satisfying emotion as she answered. “Why, yes, Alasdair, I would very much like for you to show me your project.” Still maintaining a hold on Wills, she moved over to stand next to Dare and peered down at the open row of cylinders. “It looks very complicated.”

“It is complicated. Marine engines are infinitely more difficult to design than traditional engines because of the problem of deterioration due to the constant exposure to salt water.”

Charlotte eyed the engine with misgiving, tugging Wills over to examine the back side of the machine. “Is it dangerous?”

“There is always a danger when working with engines, Charlotte,” Dare answered calmly. “However, I am confident I have located and fixed any flaws that might result in disaster.”