Page 49 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

“I don’t want to try on frocks,” Thisbe protested, but she let her sister pull her up and lead her toward her bedroom.

“Then we’ll just spend the afternoon vilifying Desmond Harrison.”

“I don’t want to even think about the man.”

Unfortunately, Thisbe found that it was impossible not to think about him. Even burying herself in her work didn’t help. Reading a paper about the use of the spectroscope in the discovery of rubidium made her think of Desmond. In the midst of an experiment, her mind drifted off to memories of their time together. She wondered what he was doing, if he missed her or regretted his decision. She remembered his kiss, his touch, the feel of his arms around her, and every thought brought that now-familiar ache to her chest.

More than once, she decided that she would go talk to him, but her nerve failed her. Surely she had more pride than to chase after a man who didn’t want her, which was, she was convinced, the real reason he parted from her. Desmond couldn’t actually believe that being with him would kill her. It was too absurd, too superstitious. Why, he had told her how little he believed in superstition. He was a scientist, and even if he was engaged in Gordon’s spiritual research, he did it out of scientific interest. It didn’t mean he believed in dark omens or deadly birthmarks.

No. Desmond simply was not interested in her. It had been an infatuation, and it had ended. Thisbe could only hope that her grandmother was right, and it had been an infatuation for her, as well. In a few days she would stop thinking about him, stop missing him, stop aching to feel his lips on hers.

She was sitting in the laboratory, idly spinning a glass stirrer on her table, going over what Desmond has said for the hundredth time, when Olivia burst into her room, breathless and braids flying.

“Thisbe! Theo came home.”

That lifted Thisbe’s spirits. She popped to her feet. “Good. Where is he? His room? The sultan room?”

“No. That’s the thing—Grandmother told him about Desmond, and Theo went charging off to find him.”

“Blast it! Why did she have to do that?”

“She wanted to tell Theo about her moment of triumph, I imagine. But that’s not the problem. Theo will flatten him—you know he will. He took honors in boxing at Eton.”

“He doesn’t know where to find Desmond. Theo will charge about for a while, and that will calm him down. He’ll return and—”

“He was going to talk to John the coachman,” Olivia replied in a voice of doom.

“Thompkins? My God.” Thisbe ran for the front door. Grabbing her coat from the rack by the door, she darted out, not pausing to put on a hat.

Theo had taken the carriage, she assumed, so she had to find a hack. Lifting her skirts more than was maidenly proper, she ran for a busier street. Where would Theo find Desmond? In the past, this was about the time he would come to call on her. Since he was no longer engaged in that occupation, he probably went to work at a normal time. He would still be at the optical shop.

She stopped a hack by running in front of it. It was only after she got in that she remembered she had also run out without taking any money. Oh, well, she’d make Theo pay him; he deserved it.

When they reached the shop, Thisbe sprang out and ran for the door, which was standing open. That wasn’t a good sign. She had been counting on Thompkins not knowing the shop’s address, since he’d never taken her there. Behind her, the driver of the hack let out a roar, but she paid him no attention. Her heart was racing, her stomach sick with dread.

The front of the shop was empty and the curtain to the back was half-ripped-off and dangling. She ran through the opening. A large group of men was clustered at the other end of the room, mouths open, watching the scene before them. They blocked her view, so she could see only Theo’s head rising above everyone else. Oh, God, where was Desmond?

“Damnation!” Theo’s voice rang out as Thisbe rushed toward them. “Fight back, would you!”

“No.” It was Desmond’s voice. “You’re right. I am to blame.” His head rose above the others, too, now; he had obviously gotten to his feet. Blood streamed down one side of his face.

Thisbe let out a cry of distress at the sight of him. “No! Theo! Stop this!” She started to push her way through the men. One or two fell back, startled, but she had to hit another with her fist to get him to move. She emerged behind Theo.

Her brother was already turning around at the sound of her voice. “What the devil are you doing here? Stay out of this.”

“Thisbe!” Desmond’s voice was only a whisper, but she felt it all through her.

She didn’t look at him as she grabbed Theo’s arm. “Don’t. Stop this right now.”

Her twin glared at her mulishly, jaw set and eyes lit with a green fire. “Go away. It’s nothing to do with you.”

“Ha!” She stepped between him and Desmond, setting one fist on her hip and pointing the other at Theo. “It’s precisely to do with me.” She poked her twin in the chest. “You cannot run about hitting people just because they’ve done something you don’t like.”

“For pity’s sake, Thiz...” Theo grimaced, but his fists were no longer clenched, and she knew she had won.

Still, she gave him another poke just to emphasize her words. “I can fight my own battles, thank you. I’m not a child you must protect. I am a grown woman, and I have to face the consequences of my own mistakes.”

“I know, I know. Stop doing that, would you?” Theo raised a hand to deflect another thrust of her forefinger.