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ash from the grate. His white cravat had been powdered by the stuff, too, though his black jacket looked none the worse for wear.
    “He was just here.”
    “Who, Grandfather?” But, of course, Anna knew exactly who’d gone missing. What was more, her grandfather didn’t seem to notice he stood right behind her. Bother it all.
    “That man,” he said, looking as befuddled as a bird knocked from the sky. “I was demonstrating the Colossal Air Current Creator, only once the cataclysm hit, he disappeared. Poof. Gone.” He stiffened, well, as much as he could with somewhat stooped shoulders. “Good lord, you don’t think he’s been blown out the door, do you?”
    And his look of horror, quickly trailed by excited curiosity, had Anna saying, “He’s right here,” lest her grandfather begin a mad search of London’s streets for one airborne gentleman. He’d gone that batty in recent years, Lord love him.
    “Where?” he asked.
    Anna turned to Mr. Hemplewilt, who stepped forward in the secondhand clothes that didn’t quite conceal the gentleman beneath. “Here, sir,” he said as he straightened. “Your granddaughter wanted a private moment with me.”
    Which made Elijah Brooks look between the two of them blankly. “You know Anna?” he asked.
    “Yes, Grandfather, he does. Fact is, Mr. Hemplewilt here is going to take you down to the pumps to get you cleaned up.”
    “I am?” she heard a deep baritone ask.
    “You are,” she said, placing her hands on her hips, all but daring him with her eyes to contradict her. If he did, she would use it as an excuse to…
    What?
    God help her, she really could use the money he would bring them.
    But that didn’t mean she’d have to like it. And that was when she got her first inkling of what it would be like to live with a man who made her feel like butterflies kissed her skin. Who made waves rise within her, and naughty thoughts enter her head. She would be living with him for a night—she would allow him no more—but she had a feeling that was all a man of his ilk would need to charm the skirt off of her.
    Her heart began to flutter like those butterflies were rushing at her ribs in panic.
    So when he said, “As you wish,” with an inclination of his head that looked almost regal, she used it as an excuse to turn away, remove her cloak as she did so and not look up as she began to pick up the debris from the floor. Under normal circumstances the state of the room would fill her with exhaustion. So much to do. Always. Work, work, work. But today she was so self-aware, so angry at this latest turn of events, that she hardly paid attention.
    “Come, Mr. Brooks,” she heard Mr. Hemplewilt say.
    “Come?” her grandfather said. “Do not tell me to come, sir. I am no dog.”
    But with a soft, soothing voice—gentle, even—he convinced her grandfather to follow him from the room. And though she told herself not to look up, though she told herself to concentrate on her task, Anna still turned—still met Mr. Hemplewilt’s gaze as he led her grandfather out. Their eyes met, and for some silly reason she blushed. He smiled. She blushed even more—
her,
a woman who’d had her bubbies squeezed by passing ruffians, who’d put up with every type of sordid comment that came along with selling items at Covent Market, who prided herself on the fact that she could mince bawdy words with the best of them and never think twice. She looked away, and when she reached for the next item on the floor, she noticed her hands shook.
    When Rein returned a half hour later, he felt as driven to the edge of madness as Mr. Brooks apparently was.
    Lord help him, the man was as crackers as old King George.
    “Why are you following me?” the daft fool asked, turning back to him.
    Rein thought about explaining to him—yet again—that Anna had sent him along to help, but a half hour of having his hands batted away, his ears blasted and his legitimacy questioned at every turn had given him