Read Online The Curious Steambox Affair by Melissa Macgregor - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Melissa Macgregor
Ads: Link
have yet to experience. I am simply too agitated to retire tonight, although the hour is late, and I have a very early morning at the Theatre. Rest would be a good idea, and I know I will be fatigued tomorrow, but I simply cannot wait to tell you the details of what occurred.
This morning began with a rich dread. I noticed on Hydeâs calendar, during my daily routine of preparation for his arrival, that there was to be a Doctoral dinner this evening. I assumed it was for the physicians only. I hoped! But I was quickly proved incorrect. One of MacDougalâs assistants (and again, I am horrific with names) informed me that I was to attend. All workers involved in the Doctoral Council were to be there, and he also instructed that I was under strict instructions to see to it that Hyde got himself there as well.
My dismay was twofold. You can imagine my lack of enthusiasm at being forced to dine alongside my fellow assistants and physicians. Their lack of warmth has extended into a chilly silence, and I was surprised to learn that my presence was required. Why would I possibly need to be there? Surely they would feel more comfortable if I stayed away, considering that most pretend my inexistence.
And to force Hydeâs attendance? My usually good mood soured at the thought. It has come to my realization that I cannot force Hyde to do anything, and if he makes it a habit of not attending the annual dinner, then I was sure that this year would be no different. Why should that be my responsibility? I dreaded his response, and felt sure that it would make my own negativity pale in comparison.
After much thought and debate, I scribbled a note to Hyde, and left it on his desk, atop my research suggestions and the post. The message was simple and honest.
âHyde. I have been instructed to attend the Doctoral dinner. I have been told to see that you do as well. I have no desire to attend. Chances are, I will be overcome with a great fever at around five oâclock, and will probably require a physicianâs assistance that would adequately explain your absence, should you wish to decline the invitation as well.â
I quickly became lost in the depths of my studies, my good mood returning somewhat as I surrendered to my deep love of research. I scarcely heard Hyde arrive in the office, and was roused from my immersion in medical texts by a sudden loud guffaw.
Startled, I turned away from my worktable, only to see Hyde standing at his desk and pouring himself a hefty dose of whisky into a glass tumbler. His expression was impassive as he continued to flip through the post, all humor gone, but I did notice that my Doctoral dinner note had been pushed to the side. As usual, there was no conversation. No comment. No further laughter, and I forgot it entirely as we became involved in the usual research.
It was not until the very end of the day that things took an unexpected turn.
I am normally the last to leave the office. Hyde generally exits an hour before I do, sliding into his coat and gloves with nary a farewell. I tidy up the place and finish up whatever I am working on before I leave, but it is always well after Hyde departs.
Tonight was different. I looked up from my table, expecting to see Hyde disappearing across the threshold, but instead, he lingered at the doorway. His expression was grim as he slid on his hat. He tightened a scarf around his neck, and then glared at me with clear expectation.
âWell, come on then,â he said, when I hesitated. âI cannot wait all evening, Purefoy.â
He tossed my coat to me, and surprised, I very nearly dropped it.
âWe are leaving?â I queried as I donned my coat. Hyde nodded, and turning on his heel, he stormed into the hallway. I scarcely had time to put on my hat and gloves before he was shouting for me to hurry.
âWhere are we going?â I asked, quickly locking up. Hyde waited impatiently at the end of the hall. My question seemed to
This morning began with a rich dread. I noticed on Hydeâs calendar, during my daily routine of preparation for his arrival, that there was to be a Doctoral dinner this evening. I assumed it was for the physicians only. I hoped! But I was quickly proved incorrect. One of MacDougalâs assistants (and again, I am horrific with names) informed me that I was to attend. All workers involved in the Doctoral Council were to be there, and he also instructed that I was under strict instructions to see to it that Hyde got himself there as well.
My dismay was twofold. You can imagine my lack of enthusiasm at being forced to dine alongside my fellow assistants and physicians. Their lack of warmth has extended into a chilly silence, and I was surprised to learn that my presence was required. Why would I possibly need to be there? Surely they would feel more comfortable if I stayed away, considering that most pretend my inexistence.
And to force Hydeâs attendance? My usually good mood soured at the thought. It has come to my realization that I cannot force Hyde to do anything, and if he makes it a habit of not attending the annual dinner, then I was sure that this year would be no different. Why should that be my responsibility? I dreaded his response, and felt sure that it would make my own negativity pale in comparison.
After much thought and debate, I scribbled a note to Hyde, and left it on his desk, atop my research suggestions and the post. The message was simple and honest.
âHyde. I have been instructed to attend the Doctoral dinner. I have been told to see that you do as well. I have no desire to attend. Chances are, I will be overcome with a great fever at around five oâclock, and will probably require a physicianâs assistance that would adequately explain your absence, should you wish to decline the invitation as well.â
I quickly became lost in the depths of my studies, my good mood returning somewhat as I surrendered to my deep love of research. I scarcely heard Hyde arrive in the office, and was roused from my immersion in medical texts by a sudden loud guffaw.
Startled, I turned away from my worktable, only to see Hyde standing at his desk and pouring himself a hefty dose of whisky into a glass tumbler. His expression was impassive as he continued to flip through the post, all humor gone, but I did notice that my Doctoral dinner note had been pushed to the side. As usual, there was no conversation. No comment. No further laughter, and I forgot it entirely as we became involved in the usual research.
It was not until the very end of the day that things took an unexpected turn.
I am normally the last to leave the office. Hyde generally exits an hour before I do, sliding into his coat and gloves with nary a farewell. I tidy up the place and finish up whatever I am working on before I leave, but it is always well after Hyde departs.
Tonight was different. I looked up from my table, expecting to see Hyde disappearing across the threshold, but instead, he lingered at the doorway. His expression was grim as he slid on his hat. He tightened a scarf around his neck, and then glared at me with clear expectation.
âWell, come on then,â he said, when I hesitated. âI cannot wait all evening, Purefoy.â
He tossed my coat to me, and surprised, I very nearly dropped it.
âWe are leaving?â I queried as I donned my coat. Hyde nodded, and turning on his heel, he stormed into the hallway. I scarcely had time to put on my hat and gloves before he was shouting for me to hurry.
âWhere are we going?â I asked, quickly locking up. Hyde waited impatiently at the end of the hall. My question seemed to
Similar Books
