Free The Curious Steambox Affair by Melissa Macgregor Page A

pressed into my hand. Michael Whitcomb spoke quickly to their butler, I suppose informing him to set a place, and then he began a cheerful barrage of questions. His conversation lacked any hint of malice at all, a refreshing change from what I had experienced amid the Doctoral Council. In no time, I found myself easily conversing with him, as we wandered amicably toward the bank of windows.
    He was not visibly affected by my English heritage, and was politely interested in my work alongside Hyde. We sipped sherry and spoke of many pleasant topics, but I must admit that most of my attention was focused on the pair beside the fire. My worries were for Miss Whitcomb, but I should not have bothered. She sat, speaking quietly to Hyde, who still hovered near her. Something he said made her laugh, a nice pleasant sound, and I could see no trace of agitation in her expression. Hyde appeared as thunderous as usual, but Miss Whitcomb seemed to find his presence tolerable. A fantastic concept!
    Mr. Whitcomb spoke in a low tone. “We originally intended for our sister to have acquaintance with Hyde’s brother. A fine man, a very fine man indeed! But, alas, Dr. Hyde has not seen fit to include his brother at any of our dinners.”
    â€œDo you have them often?” I asked, taking a sip of sherry.
    â€œWeekly. It is a usual thing for us, having Hyde in to dine. My sister enjoys his company, and we keep on believing that at some point, he will see fit to make introductions to his brother. Mr. Trantham is very well respected in Town, and it would do my family much good to be in association with both him and Hyde. But it seems not to be, and I suppose being associated with such a fine physician has its own merits, although I am still holding out hope with regard to Mr. Trantham.”
    â€œTrantham?” I asked, confused. I must confess, Miss Campbell, that until now I had held very little curiosity about Hyde’s personal life. It never occurred to me that he would have any family. Whimsically, I have come to believe that he materializes out of the dawn mist, appearing in the office with his dark frown and dislike of all things cheerful. To learn of his courtship? His weekly dinner? His brother? What an illuminating evening!
    â€œOh, yes. Mr. Simon Trantham. He has a very fine town house in New Town, as well as a formidable country estate not far out of town. Elder brother, you know, who will inherit the title of baron at any moment, if gossip is to be trusted. The father is continually on his deathbed, more’s the pity,” Whitcomb said, without a trace of sorrow. “And a baron would be a far more preferable catch for my sweet Olivia, but . . .” He broke off with an expressive sigh. “It is what it is.”
    I wished to inquire over the different surnames between the brothers, but I feared it crass. Needless to say, my curiosity was piqued. Trantham is an English name, which lends itself to its own line of questioning. And then to be a baron . . . well, Whitcomb was a veritable font of information, with regard to Hyde.
    â€œAlthough Hyde is, undoubtedly, the finest physician in all of Edinburgh,” Whitcomb continued. “Quite possibly, all of Scotland. I have yet to hear of anyone who has his credentials, and his medical prowess, as well as his scientific knowledge, is without equal. You must consider yourself very lucky, Mr. Purefoy, to be so closely associated with such a man. It can only help you, you know, working alongside the illustrious Hyde.”
    â€œI have heard of his unusual credentials,” I ventured. I still watched Hyde, but he was oblivious to anyone save the chattering Miss Whitcomb. His smile, as he stared down at her, was positively gruesome. I feared for the lady’s delicate constitution.
    â€œAh, yes. His Crown approval. Well, that can only have to do with his family associations. The Tranthams have always been in the King’s pocket,