Page 24 of How Not to Marry a Duke

Another thought came to mind, and Warwick felt a wave of unease. Could his godmother be paying him an unannounced visit? He stood and wiped the grease from his hands on a nearby clean rag. Once again, he was dressed in breeches and a loose linen shirt without cravat, waistcoat, or jacket. The high-pressure engine rested in the middle of his study’s hardwood floor. Tools and mechanical parts cluttered his worktable. He’d been inspecting mechanical drawings and making markings before taking apart one of the engine’s pistons.

“Lord Drake waits in the parlor.” A pained look flashed across Nelson’s face. Along with his housekeeper, Mrs. Posner, they were both disgruntled he hadn’t removed the engine from the study before Adeline’s visit. He had no intention of doing so.

Warwick stood and let out a held-in breath. He may love his godmother, but he was more than a bit relieved that his friend, the Earl of Drake, waited instead. “See Lord Drake here.”

Lord Drake entered just as Warwick returned the wrench to the rest of the tools on the worktable.

Drake approached and eyed the engine Warwick had been toiling over. “Are you still working on that contraption?”

“If by that contraption you mean the high-pressure engine for the first steam-powered locomotive, then yes. Richard Trevithick obtained the patent for it. I’m improving the efficiency of the engine’s pistons.” Warwick folded his arms across his chest and leaned against his worktable. “What are you doing in this backwater?”

Drake’s lips twitched with humor. “What do you think? I miss my sparring partner. No one else at Gentleman Jackson’s has your nimble footwork.”

The two had met as boys at Eton, then attended Oxford together, and were long-time friends. The two were alike but had their differences. Warwick didn’t seek out new friends; he preferred books and tinkering in his workshop. Drake, on the other hand, could be charming and outgoing, but he preferred duty over gambling, drinking, and carousing. They’d shared a kinship. As for their favorite pastime, Warwick considered sparring as a way to exercise the body to help with the mind. Drake looked at it as a way to relieve stress. They were a good match in and out of the ring.

Warwick went to a sideboard in the corner of the study. It was the only piece of furniture not covered by mechanical tools or parts. He poured two whiskies and handed Drake one. “I’d be pleased if I didn’t know better. Let’s try again. Why leave your lovely wife for the country visit?” Drake had married Lady Ana Woodbridge last year and she was expecting their first babe.

Drake accepted the glass. “I’m on my way to one of my estates in Kent to meet with my steward. Since I’m one of the few who have the privilege of knowing of Your Grace’s presence here, I thought to stop by.”

Warwick’s lips twitched at the hint of mockery in his friend’s voice. “I’m flattered.”

Drake took a step closer to peer down at the engine. “I thought you were working on developing a faster burning gunpowder.”

“I was.”

Warwick excelled at mechanical engineering and mathematics, and nothing excited him more than taking an ordinary device and modifying it or designing a completely new device.

“You suffered a burn from that gunpowder invention, didn’t you?”

“Less than a month ago.” Warwick turned over his forearm.

“Those bandages are fresh. Did you burn yourself again?”

“No. I was accosted by a farm animal.”

Drake blinked. “Pardon?”

“You heard correctly. It was a large pig.”

Drake set the whisky on the worktable. “Of all the crazy things you’ve said over the years—about your inventions and such—that might top the list.”

“It wasn’t my fault. My neighbor is a nuisance.”

“Is your neighbor the pig?”

Warwick snorted.

“Ha! Now you sound just like one.”

Warwick’s frown deepened. “I first went over to politely ask her to get her hunting hounds to stop barking and howling. I couldn’t focus on my work.”

“Barking, you say? I thought she owned a pig.”

“She does. Along with two hunting hounds who barked all hours of the day and night. She was treating the dogs for digestive problems.”

Drake’s lips twitched. “That sounds messy. But what does that have to do with a pig exacerbating your injury?”

“She keeps the pig as a pet. She claims ‘Henry’ is overly affectionate and sought only to greet me. I didn’t know this, of course. All I could see was a charging two-hundred-pound farm animal. I acted automatically. I pushed the lady behind me, then defended myself. Do you have any idea how heavy a barreling pig can be?”