Chapter 10

CHAPTER10

“Do you know what this is?” Lewis held the oil lamp up to a contraption he’d uncovered. When he’d attempted to show Ellie the intricacies of the mechanism beneath the orange tree, they’d discovered that the electric bulbs in the basement lacked the necessary brightness.

Ellie stood back and put her hands on her hips. “A small wooden box on top of a larger wooden box on top of a wooden tripod?”

“Ah, but what do you suppose is inside the wooden boxes?” The light flickered off Lewis’s white silk evening cravat and vest and sparked a challenge in his eyes.

She folded her arms, taking her inspiration from the orange tree. “A mechanized bouquet of flowers?”

He shook his head. “Something far more wonderful. The ability to capture life—and replay it.”

Ellie sucked in a breath. “A kinetoscope?”

“A cinématographe.” Lewis opened the main box to reveal a crank and a variety of strange mechanisms. “Patterned after Edison’s invention, yes, but meant by the Lumière brothers to show films to a wider audience than a single person at a kinetoscope parlor. This machine functions as a camera, a developer, and a projector.”

“How?” Ellie gasped.

Lewis pointed out different parts—an eccentric cam, claws, a frame, and a winding ramp—and explained their functions. That Ellie could grasp only part of what he was saying both frustrated and intrigued her. But the way Lewis’s passion and proximity drew her attention to his eyes and lips rather than the gears and parts really made her brain spin out of her head—a place she decidedly did not like it.

She forced herself to focus. “But how do film and magic intersect?”

“The possibilities are limitless. Professional magician Georges Méliès was the first to pioneer in this area. When the Lumières would not sell him a cinématographe, he purchased a British animatograph and reversed its mechanical principles. He’s been making hundreds of films on his property. Stop-motion photography allows him to add or remove something from a scene, allowing objects—”

“To appear and disappear.” Ellie brightened.

“Or transform.” His face glowing, Lewis separated his hands with a sweeping gesture—missing only a theatrical puff of smoke.

“Will this be part of the show at the ball, then?”

“You’ll have to wait and—”

A knock on the locked door interrupted him. Ellie flushed from head to toe. Lewis’s invitation had given her not a moment of concern on account of his reputation, but hers would be ruined if they were discovered alone together in such a spot. He held out his hand, urging her to stay back while he went to answer the knock.

He cracked the door open. “Yes?”

The voice of a messenger boy piped up, and a hand with a paper pushed through the opening. “From Nurse McMullan.”

“Thank you.” Lewis read the note, then fished in his pocket for a coin. “Tell her I will be right there.”

As soon as their privacy was restored, Ellie stepped forward. “Is everything all right?”

Lewis returned to close up and recover the camera. “Cora’s had a nightmare.”

“Oh no. About the accident?”

“Likely. She’s asking to finish the story from your father’s book that we started last night.” Lewis cut a pointed glance at her.

“Oh. Of course. I can return to my room.”

“No…she’s asking for you to read it.”

“Me?” Ellie’s hand fluttered to the chest of her beaded navy evening dress.

“That’s what the note said.” Lewis shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile. “Do you mind too much?”

That if someone saw her going into Lewis Thornton’s rooms at night, she might as well pin a scarlet letter to her chest? Or that if she didn’t, she’d disappoint a most beguiling, child-sized version of herself? Hard choice, that. She smiled back. “Not at all.”

Lewis checked that the hall was clear before extinguishing the lamp and locking up. “Are you the only one with a key? Since, naturally, The Great Gaspachi would have no need of a key.” Ellie chuckled.

“Naturally. The head porter also has one. That way, he can let the necessary workers in leading up to the show. We travel with our own crew of stagehands.”

“That makes sense. But something else doesn’t.” She balled her fist as she followed him down the hall.

He glanced back. “What’s that?”

“It’s clear that you love this part of your life, yet you’re so secretive about it. Why?”

Lewis didn’t reply at first as they mounted the stairs. “Let’s just say that not everyone reacts as you have.”

A sudden suspicion stunned her. “Were you testing me with the birthday show?”

His lopsided, fleeting grin jogged her heartrate. “Perhaps partially.”

He cared enough for her opinion to matter? That notion attracted examination about as much as a seven-foot python, so she redirected. “If something brings such wonder and joy to others, shouldn’t you be proud of your part in it? Just be yourself, and don’t worry about the naysayers.”

“Sage advice, but easier spoken than heeded.” Lewis drew her to his side. “Besides, couldn’t I say the same of you?”

Her face warmed. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of taking risks from a position of power.”

“I don’t know. Good opinion can be just as quickly lost as gained.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Ellie breathed easier when they emerged onto the hotel’s main floor—a good opportunity for a change of topic. “Which story are you reading to Cora?”

“The first one…about Ridge Torn.” His gaze—not lightening in the way she’d hoped for—measured her reaction.

“Oh, the boy genius whose invention synchronized all the clocks in the world and who traveled globally implementing his device. That one was always my favorite.”

“Why was that?”

She laughed and flushed again. “Oh, a silly, personal reason, really.”

“Do tell.” Lewis paused outside the suite he’d taken her to the evening of the accident, and again yesterday morning, when Cora’s bird sketches had delighted her.

Clearly, he wasn’t opening the door until she answered. Ellie flipped her hand down. “Father always told me that only a man like this Ridge Torn, someone who shared my intense curiosity and sharp eye for detail, would make a proper match for me.”

“Did he, now?”

“It’s quite embarrassing, seeing as how, well…” She lost her thought when she intersected his intense gaze.

What was Lewis waiting for, with that strange smirk dancing among his laugh lines? It made her stomach feel as though a million carbonated bubbles fizzled inside.

The door flew open. Nurse McMullan’s head poked out. “There you are!” She fairly pulled Ellie inside, tugging her through the sitting room toward a bedroom. “She won’t settle until Miss Ellie tucks her in.”

Lewis followed, chuckling.

“Ellie!” Sitting up under her coverlet with the book of Tall Tales on her lap, Cora flung her arms open.

Ellie bent to hug the child, then sat beside her. She smoothed the tousled braids. “What’s this I hear about bad dreams?”

Cora leaned her head on Ellie’s shoulder. “I keep seeing the car coming at me, and I startle awake.”

“Oh no! Well, Jesus would want you to sleep peacefully, and we got good news from the hospital today that the gardener will recover just fine. So why don’t we say a prayer that Jesus takes away your fears?” Ellie glanced up, her heart skipping a beat as Lewis seated himself at the end of the bed. His nod affirmed her more than any words.

“Okay, but first, can you finish the story?” Cora opened the pages to the place marked with a ribbon and plunked the book on Ellie’s lap. “We were just to the part where Ridge went to Russia.”

“Very well.” Ellie focused on the spot indicated by Cora’s finger. “‘After Ridge set all the watches in Russia, the emperor could lay tracks from Moscow to the frozen wilds of Siberia on the Pacific Ocean. Then he decided he would connect the railway to China. To express his gratitude to the young clockmaker, he gifted him with a precious box made of amber from the Baltic Sea. The first place Ridge went when he returned to Washington was to the Patent Office where it had all started. He placed the amber box on the desk of the man who had approved his invention…’” Ellie’s voice dwindled as something clicked into place in her mind. Lewis watched her steadily. It couldn’t be…

He took the book, read the last few sentences, and laid it on the table. “And that concludes the adventures of the young Ridge Torn.”

“Aw…” Cora’s protest trailed off when Lewis tweaked her nose.

“Time for bed.” He lifted the covers.

“First, Ellie has to pray.”

“Oh…yes.” Ellie collected her thoughts and folded her hands. “Dear Jesus, as…amazing as the words of this story are, they lack the power of your Word. The psalmist tells us that he sought the Lord, and you heard him and delivered him from all his fears. Please do that for Cora tonight. May your angels guard her, that she might sleep peacefully. Amen.”

“Amen,” Lewis echoed.

Ellie bent to kiss Cora’s head, but the girl grasped her arm. “Will you stay a while?”

When she hesitated, Lewis answered. “Perhaps Miss Ellie will sit with me on the balcony until you fall asleep.”

Her chest squeezing, Ellie nodded.

Again Cora stopped her from rising. “I have to tell you something.”

Ellie fought amusement at the girl’s dramatic whisper. “What’s that?”

“I was wrong about the ending to your story.”

“Oh?”

Cora nodded, her braids sliding over the pillow. “The brown indigo bunting shouldn’t look for a whole other species of bird to make its family.”

“Why not?” Ellie held Cora’s small hand.

“Because even though they might look alike, they wouldn’t be alike inside.” She tapped her chest. “If God made the bright-blue indigo bunting to be the plain brown bunting’s mate, who is she to argue?”

Ellie couldn’t speak past the sudden lump in her throat. She patted Cora’s head. “You are a very smart girl.”

Cora beamed, then spoke as she turned to her side. “Besides, she’s pretty in her own way, and no other bird has a sweeter voice.”

Lewis kissed Cora and turned off the lamp, then followed Ellie into the sitting room, where Nurse McMullan sat with her knitting. They passed through the open door to the balcony.

“Can you still hear me?” Cora’s faint question made them laugh.

“Yes,” Lewis called back. “We can hear you. Now goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

“She’s a peach.” Ellie shook her head, then rested a hand on the railing. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Faint lights twinkled between the hotel and the bay, where a soft golden glow remained on the horizon. The first stars began to appear in the velvet dome of sky. Lewis stood beside her, his presence a palpable force even when Nurse placed an oil lamp on the table behind them before retreating.

“Do you know now why I wanted to borrow your book?” His low question made her heart flutter.

Her fingers tightened on the railing. “I can’t believe it, but…you knew my father?”

Lewis nodded. “My father brought me to Washington when I was in my teens. We presented my design for temperature-compensated balance wheels for watches to Mr. Blake Hastings. He was amazed, supportive, but the next day, I returned and asked him to withdraw my application.”

“Why?”

“There was a small flaw. I needed to make an adjustment.”

“But then, how…”

“I received a letter in the mail not long after. The patent had been granted. Your father learned someone else with an inferior design was applying, so he put mine through.”

Ellie gasped. “I can’t believe he did that.”

“His letter said he never doubted the credibility of my design. And he was right. I had already made the adjustment, and with the patent in hand, was able to approach the railroad.”

“So you really are Ridge Torn.”

“I sometimes went by the nickname Ridge as a boy. Ridgely is my middle name.”

Her breath choked off when she recalled her admission earlier in the hallway, and she raised her hand to her throat. “I promise, I had no idea.”

“And I had no idea your father had made me the subject of one of his stories.”

“I’m sorry, Lewis. It never occurred to me to seek permissions. And Father always used fictional names for his characters.”

“I’m not upset, Ellie.” Lewis reached for her hand. “If your father hadn’t believed in me, my life would be very different. It all seems like fate now, that you and I would meet like this.”

She couldn’t breathe, standing so close to him that she could smell his spicy scent, feel his warmth. The last time a man had gazed at her like that…

Alarm bells began to peal in her head.

“You’ve been so kind to Cora—and now to find out we already share this connection. Your father insisted I owed him nothing, but I’ve always felt a debt I wanted to repay. That I might be able to at least express my thankfulness to you…” He drew her hand to his chest. “Ellie, will you attend the ball with me?”

The breath left her in a rush. He wanted to discharge his debt to her father by taking his poor, spinster daughter to a dance? The same shame washed her as the moment she’d caught her supposed beau, Will Howell, riffling through her uncle’s desk. Ellie pulled away and stepped back. “If my father said you owed him nothing, then you owe nothing to me. Please, consider yourself freed of any obligation to my family.”

“That’s not all it is, Ellie.”

The sudden weight might make her chest cave in. Will had used almost those same words. She’d never be made a fool of like that again. “It’s been my pleasure to learn about your inventions and get to know Cora. There’s no need to make anything else of our friendship than that.” Ellie backed up, looking away from Lewis’s stunned expression. “I’ll…save you a dance at the ball.” She headed for the door as fast as her feet could carry her.