The Importance of Being Wicked. Victoria AlexanderЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter 5

      “Electricity?” Win couldn’t recall ever having stared at a woman as if she was insane before, but then he had never before met a woman one could truly call insane. Until now. “Electricity?”

      “Yes, my lord, electricity,” Lady Garret said as calmly as if she were discussing something of no more significance than whether to paint the entry hall green or blue. She glanced at the drawings and plans she had laid out on the large burr walnut table in the Millworth Manor library. “You have heard of it, haven’t you?”

      “Of course I have heard of it,” he said sharply. “It’s a natural phenomenon. A force of nature.”

      “My apologies, of course you have. I simply meant that perhaps you were not aware of its practical applications.” She smiled pleasantly as if she hadn’t just questioned his intelligence.

      “I am not uninformed about such things. Indeed, I consider myself quite up-to-date on innovation and invention and the like. But because I am amused by a parlor trick, and indeed I have seen several employing the powers of electricity, does not make me wish to run out and have it in my house.”

      “How very interesting,” Gray murmured, studying the plans. Win’s parents had gathered around the table to peruse the designs Lady Garret had presented.

      “One must look toward the future, Lord Stillwell,” she said primly, her resemblance to a governess apparent once again. “One cannot be mired in the past. One must either move forward or . . .” Again she smiled that pleasant smile, as if she were smiling at one who understood neither the topic nor the language. “Step aside.”

      “I have no intention of stepping aside,” he snapped.

      Someone—either his father or his cousin—snorted with amusement.

      “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” Win shot a scathing look at his relations. “Indeed, I consider myself extremely progressive.”

      “My mistake, my lord.” Lady’s Garret’s eyes widened innocently. “And I do apologize once again. But surely you can see how I might think you were not especially concerned with modern amenities as you wanted the house rebuilt exactly as it was originally, some three hundred years ago. I simply assumed you were happy with the building and all that goes along with it.”

      “I am happy,” he said in a firm tone. “I am exceptionally fond of this house and I want it put back the way it was. I don’t think that is too much to ask.”

      “Not at all and we shall do our best although that may be something of a challenge.” She shrugged. “It is not easy to replicate antiquated plumbing and insufficient heating.”

      “Oh dear,” Mother murmured.

      “Blasted plumbing,” his father muttered. “Never does work right.”

      “I don’t want antiquated plumbing and insufficient heat! My God, I am not an idiot.” Although he certainly felt like one at the moment. It was entirely her fault. She made him feel this way and he didn’t like it one bit. “Certainly, the mechanical systems of the house should be modernized.”

      “Excellent.” She beamed at him. “Electricity it is then.”

      He stared at her in disbelief. “I didn’t say that.”

      “It does seem to me that this is an opportunity we should consider carefully,” his father said. “One can embrace tradition without being trapped by the past.”

      Win’s gaze snapped to his father. “You are the most traditional man I have ever known.”

      “Indeed, I do value tradition and Fairborough Hall embodies the heritage of this family. I don’t see that improvements and bringing it up-to-date would be detrimental to that tradition. We do have to live here, after all, as do generations to come. However . . .” His father met his gaze directly. “I am leaving this in your hands. You are the next caretaker of Fairborough and it should be your decision.”

      “Lord Salisbury has installed electricity at Hatfield House,” his mother said helpfully.

      “Lord Salisbury is an idiot!”

      “And yet he is prime minister,” Gray said in a casual manner.

      “I believe you have made my point.” Win snorted. “I hear he has trained his family—even his children—to throw cushions at the sparks his electricity creates to stifle potential fires. If I recall correctly, I heard as well about an unfortunate incident regarding the electrocution of his gardener.”

      “Oh, I should hate to lose the gardener.” His mother’s brow furrowed. “He has such an excellent way with the roses.”

      “I do not wish to rebuild only to have the house burn down again.” Win met Lady Garret’s gaze directly. “Am I clear on this?”

      “Most certainly.” She bit her bottom lip in a nervous manner. “I shall relay your concerns to Mr. Tempest. He will, of course, have to make some changes to the plans. It might take him some time . . .”

      “Oh, but, Lady Garret, there really is no time to waste. The work must begin as soon as possible. We have a ball to arrange, you know. And the queen might possibly attend, which would be lovely. One always hopes for a visit from the queen, even if it is usually a great deal of trouble.” Mother smiled at the other woman in a companionable manner as if they both belonged to some sort of secret, female club, then turned to her son and straightened her shoulders. “I, for one, quite like the idea of being at the forefront of progress. Therefore, I vote for electricity.”

      “I did not call for a vote!” It was hard to believe the woman who had given him birth had now turned against him. “This is my decision. There is no voting about it.”

      “I vote for electricity as well,” Gray added.

      “Et tu, Brute?” Win glared at his cousin.

      “I just think she’s right.” Gray shrugged. “I think it’s the way of the future.”

      Win snorted. “Or it could be a passing fad.”

      “Parts of London as well as New York are already lit with electricity,” Gray said mildly.

      “Father?” Win turned to the earl. “Do you intend to vote against me as well? Not that we are voting,” he added.

      His father shook his head. “I have no intention of voting. I said this was your decision and I meant it.”

      “Well, that’s something, at any rate.” Win looked from his father to Gray to his mother and finally to Lady Garret. “As much as I think it’s wiser to bide our time and see where electricity may lead us . . .” His jaw clenched. “I will consider this and make my decision by tomorrow.”

      “Good.” His father glanced at Lady Garret. “I, for one, quite approve of what your Mr. Tempest has done here. I look forward to seeing these plans come to fruition. Now, I have other matters to attend to. Good day.” He turned and strode from the room. In the back of his mind, Win noted with more than a little relief how much more vigorous his father now appeared than he had in the days after the fire.

      “Uncle Roland.” Gray started after him. “Might I have a word?” He paused and smiled at Lady Garret. “It was my pleasure, Lady Garret. I daresay we will meet again before the last nail is driven.”

      “No doubt, Mr. Elliott. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She smiled what appeared to be a genuine