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He offered her his arm as they headed for the building. “Perhaps it’s your conscience telling you to release some of your inhibitions.”
He could feel her glance sharply at him, but he kept his focus perfectly straight. “I doubt that is the case. I shall just have to be more careful where I place my weight from now on.” She smiled tightly. “You won’t always be there to catch me when I fall.”
“No.” He kept his tone even. “I suppose I won’t.”
Chapter Six
Isadora had a terrible time pretending a cool indifference when they walked into the Ironworks. Again, she was assaulted by the overwhelming heat and the sounds of clanging metal. If she had to endure this day after day, no doubt she would suffer from the megrims that most ladies of thetonwere wont to complain about.
Unfortunately, she had more pressing matters to attend to—like the fact she was starting to allow the slight interest she’d formed for the marquess to turn into those dreaded butterflies in her stomach. She had thought that he was going to kiss her earlier, and she wasn’t certain she would have turned him away. Unnerved by the encounter, she hadn’t realized her knees were still weak, so when she tried to climb down from the carriage, they buckled underneath her. Of course, she couldn’t say that was the reason, so her own awkwardness had been to blame.
Nevertheless, she had to limit how much time she spent in Lord Osgood’s company, because the danger she would find with him would be worse than anything she might encounter in one of these iron factories.
Unlike Mr. Stephenson, Isadora and the marquess had to seekout Mr. Longridge, but they were quickly led to his office, which was infinitely more put together than that of the locomotive engineer. But it could be that the Bedlington Ironworks wasn’t trying to invent something that could alter the very nature of travel. Instead, they were merely supplying the means by which the engines would run upon. It took long hours of labor and patience in order to change the world, and as Mr. Longridge gave them a tour of his ironworks, as promised, Isadora developed a new respect for the workers. They toiled tirelessly to ensure a better way of life. Already, the rail system had managed to ease the shipment of coal to collieries and boats in the harbor for transport. Not only was it easier on the men here, but it was also an ease on the horses who had originally transported this precious commodity.
She glanced at Lord Osgood to gain his reaction to certain points along the way, and although he continued to remain silent for the most part, she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. She knew he was an intelligent man, so no doubt he was considering ways that the workload might yet be improved. She recalled how Grey had always spoken very highly of the marquess, and that was the reason Grey had approached him with the prospect of a joint business venture on the Stockton and Darlington line.
After just one day in Newcastle, Isadora could certainly see how the age of industry could be very exciting. It was the progress that most had been yearning for and were finally seeing put into place.
As their time with Mr. Longridge came to a close, he bid them farewell but not without an invitation to a small local assembly that evening on Mosley Street. “Granted, it won’t be quite so grand as what you might be used to in London, but the Geordies in Newcastle know how to treat their guests.”
Isadora had inclined her head. “I should be delighted to attend.”
“As will I,” the marquess proclaimed.
When they departed, Isadora realized that with all the excitement of the day, she had yet to eat any luncheon. “I can’t believe I’ve missed afternoon tea,” she noted as she settled herself in the seat after the marquess had joined her.
“Well, we shall just have to remedy that, won’t we? And I know just the place.” He winked good-naturedly at her and flicked the reins.
He led her toward a pub in the center of town. “This has become a favorite of mine in recent days. They have the best fish and biscuits you will ever eat.”
As they ate, Isadora ensured that the conversation centered around the events of the day, while keeping it strictly professional. She tried to pretend that it wouldn’t be any different were Lord Somers here in her place.
But that would be a dreadful lie.
She sipped her tea and couldn’t help but notice the oddest things about her companion, like how strong his hands appeared when he did something so simple as cut his fish. Or the tantalizing way his mouth looked when he sipped his coffee, or the way his jaw looked impossibly chiseled as he ate. It was infinitely difficult to remain aloof when so many aspects of his character tempted her beyond reason.
Isadora was almost relieved when the meal came to its conclusion and they returned to the inn.
As they climbed the stairs to their separate rooms, he said, “Should we meet downstairs at around half past nine?”
She glanced at him curiously, and then recalled the dinner that they were both invited to attend. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea for them to continue spending so much time alone together, but it would be foolish to refuse his offer and make her appear ungenerous. “That shall be fine with me.”
She watched him walk down the hall toward his rooms,admiring the confident way he moved, before shaking her head and disappearing inside her own.
The momenthis door shut behind him, Remington leaned against the hard wood with gritted teeth and clenched fists. He had been tantalized by the way Isadora had done something as simple as eat. However, when her pink tongue would dart out to lick her lips, or her eyes sparkled with that mysterious brilliance, he’d had to look away to regain his equilibrium.
Even now, his cock was pulsing with the urge to return to her side. But since he knew it would be a fruitless endeavor, he was forced to satisfy his own needs. When he’d relieved himself of some of the torment, he decided that it wouldn’t hurt to take a cool bath to keep him in check for the rest of the evening. No doubt it would be difficult to watch her casually flirt and mingle with some of the most prominent men of Newcastle, knowing that he couldn’t firmly stake his claim to her. He was a casual acquaintance and nothing more. Her actions had made that perfectly clear.
Again, he bemoaned the loss of such a beautiful and intelligent woman, but perhaps it would be for the best if he resigned himself to the fact.
After his bath was prepared by the inn’s staff, he undressed and sank down into the restorative water. He could almost understand why his mother and sister liked to hie off to Bath for most of the year. It really was quite relaxing.
He stayed in the bath until it began to get particularly cold, and then he dried off and prepared to dress. He hadn’t employed the services of a valet for most of his adult life, much to his mother’s chagrin. “Your father was grateful for his services when he was alive,” she would say. “And it’s within your right to ensureyou are always looking your best. You are a marquess, Remington. You should comport yourself as one.”
Naturally, he would ignore her scolding. He was a grown man and figured that he could decide what he needed, and having another grown man help him dress was not it. Not only that, but the maids had done perfectly well with pressing his attire at the townhouse in London. Of course, most of the items he’d packed for his journey to Newcastle had been simple attire for his stay in an industrial village, but he had packed something a bit more suitable in the chance he would be attending an event that might be a bit more formal.
Thus, he donned a pair of black trousers and a jacket with a white cambric shirt and cravat. The waistcoat was black with silver threading, and when he glanced into the mirror to ensure everything was neatly tied and even, he saw a London gentleman staring back at him. It might have been too fanciful to wear even now, but it was good to remind those gathered that evening who was helping to fund most of their efforts in getting this new rail line established.
