Read Online The Curious Steambox Affair by Melissa Macgregor - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melissa Macgregor
Ads: Link
annoy him further, but he did have the grace to answer me.
âDinner,â he said curtly.
My good mood evaporated entirely, and I wished suddenly that I had remembered to pretend the illness. It was far too late now. Clearly, Hyde had rejected my idea, and in turn was ensuring my attendance. I felt resigned to a truly dismal evening, one spent amid the group I abhor. When Hyde is the more pleasant company, then it is indeed a dreary bunch.
We set out into the chilly Edinburgh night. I began to see why Hyde had brought the scarf. The wind was sharper than I expected, and I pulled my coat tightly around me. The rain fell steadily, dripping down from nearby eaves and splattering the narrow bricked streets. The sun had already set, and we moved quickly through the enveloping darkness with illumination here and there by glowing streetlamps.
I say âweâ and I must confess that it was Hyde who moved with agility among the crowd. I do not know if it was his fierce expression that caused the other pedestrians to give way, or if his reputation preceded him. The pavement was a morass of people, and yet when they spotted Hyde, a clear alley was formed amid the busily advancing bodies. I have never before witnessed the power of such a scowl! I hastened to take advantage of it, and was forced to walk with incredible speed to keep up with Hyde at all.
I was concentrating so greatly on not losing him amid the throng that I was surprised when he came to a halt. I blinked owlishly beneath the lamplight, and stared up at the somber building before us. I was expecting to find myself at the address the assistant had made me memorize, the location of the Doctoral dinner, but I saw that Hyde had brought us to a completely different place.
This was a nicer building than mine own, set between a grocer and a haberdashery. It was several stories tall, with two chimneys. Smoke curled invitingly out from a cluster of clay chimney pots. Light illuminated the windows, and against the glass I could see the foggy imprint of steam. My heart leapt at the thought of such warmth.
Above the door hung suspended a smart sign whose lettering was clearly visible beneath the nearby lamplight. W HITCOMB B ROTHERS. R EPUTABLE W INE M ERCHANTS.
Reading it, I could not stop myself from laughing aloud. In my mind, I entertained the thought of an un-reputable wine merchant. The image of that particular sign was a source of great humor. Who would select such advertising?
Hyde spared me a quelling glance, and then he was opening the front door.
Intrigued, I followed him across the threshold. The sudden burst of heat upon my chilled skin caused me to sigh aloud.
Hyde grimaced. âDo try to not advertise your every thought, Purefoy. For Godâs sake, you should procure yourself a warmer coat, or eat enough to thicken your blood. Otherwise, I expect you to turn to ice, come December.â
As usual, I ignored his caustic comments. I was too fascinated by my surroundings. Row upon row of shelving surrounded me, broken only by the presence of an oversized fireplace, set in the far corner. The shelves were filled to capacity with such an assortment of wine! Bottle after bottle! Champagne. Burgundy. Bordeaux.
A long, curving countertop was centermost in the store, turning gracefully amid the shelves. This too was covered with a wide assortment of bottles and a neat stack of paperwork.
An impossibly round man stood before the counter, and he turned at our entrance. He was dressed resplendently, displaying a ridiculous vanity that caused me to struggle against laughter. Long sideburns framed a portly face. At first, his expression was haughty and grim, but it lightened considerably as his gaze settled upon us.
âDr. Hyde!â the man called out. He ran stout, stubby hands against the front of his incredibly florid waistcoat, and then approached us in quick, mincing steps. âI have been expecting you! I see that you have brought a friend to
âDinner,â he said curtly.
My good mood evaporated entirely, and I wished suddenly that I had remembered to pretend the illness. It was far too late now. Clearly, Hyde had rejected my idea, and in turn was ensuring my attendance. I felt resigned to a truly dismal evening, one spent amid the group I abhor. When Hyde is the more pleasant company, then it is indeed a dreary bunch.
We set out into the chilly Edinburgh night. I began to see why Hyde had brought the scarf. The wind was sharper than I expected, and I pulled my coat tightly around me. The rain fell steadily, dripping down from nearby eaves and splattering the narrow bricked streets. The sun had already set, and we moved quickly through the enveloping darkness with illumination here and there by glowing streetlamps.
I say âweâ and I must confess that it was Hyde who moved with agility among the crowd. I do not know if it was his fierce expression that caused the other pedestrians to give way, or if his reputation preceded him. The pavement was a morass of people, and yet when they spotted Hyde, a clear alley was formed amid the busily advancing bodies. I have never before witnessed the power of such a scowl! I hastened to take advantage of it, and was forced to walk with incredible speed to keep up with Hyde at all.
I was concentrating so greatly on not losing him amid the throng that I was surprised when he came to a halt. I blinked owlishly beneath the lamplight, and stared up at the somber building before us. I was expecting to find myself at the address the assistant had made me memorize, the location of the Doctoral dinner, but I saw that Hyde had brought us to a completely different place.
This was a nicer building than mine own, set between a grocer and a haberdashery. It was several stories tall, with two chimneys. Smoke curled invitingly out from a cluster of clay chimney pots. Light illuminated the windows, and against the glass I could see the foggy imprint of steam. My heart leapt at the thought of such warmth.
Above the door hung suspended a smart sign whose lettering was clearly visible beneath the nearby lamplight. W HITCOMB B ROTHERS. R EPUTABLE W INE M ERCHANTS.
Reading it, I could not stop myself from laughing aloud. In my mind, I entertained the thought of an un-reputable wine merchant. The image of that particular sign was a source of great humor. Who would select such advertising?
Hyde spared me a quelling glance, and then he was opening the front door.
Intrigued, I followed him across the threshold. The sudden burst of heat upon my chilled skin caused me to sigh aloud.
Hyde grimaced. âDo try to not advertise your every thought, Purefoy. For Godâs sake, you should procure yourself a warmer coat, or eat enough to thicken your blood. Otherwise, I expect you to turn to ice, come December.â
As usual, I ignored his caustic comments. I was too fascinated by my surroundings. Row upon row of shelving surrounded me, broken only by the presence of an oversized fireplace, set in the far corner. The shelves were filled to capacity with such an assortment of wine! Bottle after bottle! Champagne. Burgundy. Bordeaux.
A long, curving countertop was centermost in the store, turning gracefully amid the shelves. This too was covered with a wide assortment of bottles and a neat stack of paperwork.
An impossibly round man stood before the counter, and he turned at our entrance. He was dressed resplendently, displaying a ridiculous vanity that caused me to struggle against laughter. Long sideburns framed a portly face. At first, his expression was haughty and grim, but it lightened considerably as his gaze settled upon us.
âDr. Hyde!â the man called out. He ran stout, stubby hands against the front of his incredibly florid waistcoat, and then approached us in quick, mincing steps. âI have been expecting you! I see that you have brought a friend to
Similar Books
