Every Duke Has His Day by Suzanne Enoch EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Suzanne Enoch
- Language: English
- Genre: Novels
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- Size: 2 MB
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Michael Bromley, the Duke of Woriton, set the thin, round-trimmed sheet of
zinc on the halfpenny, then pulled a circular piece of paper from the bowl of
salted water on the table in front of him and placed it atop the two metals.
Another piece of zinc went on top of that.
“Your Grace?” Huston rapped a knuckle against the door.
“Working,” Michael said, and placed another coin on the stack.
Mumbled conversation from beyond the door tickled at his
concentration. Rolling his shoulders, Michael continued stacking—
halfpenny, zinc, saltwater paper. Seven layers ought to suffice for his
purposes today; he only needed a spark, and that didn’t warrant pulling out
the troughs or the larger zinc plates.
“I understand, Your Grace,” the butler’s voice came again, “but your
aunt is here. Lady Mary wishes to speak with you.”
“The sign is on the door, Huston.” Michael looked up for a moment.
“The sign is on the door, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Ha. He’d remembered it—or more than likely, neglected to take it
down yesterday. “And what does it say?”
“It says, ‘Do not disturb,’ Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Huston. I’ll take luncheon at one o’clock.”
More hushed conversation whispered through the closed door of his
study. His aunt knew he was generally occupied in the mornings, so she had
no one to blame but herself for choosing a morning to call on him. Michael
lifted the stack enough to place the end of a copper wire between the
bottom coin and the wooden disc beneath it.
The door opened. “You will ruin your eyesight, spending all your time
looking at such little things,” Aunt Mary stated, swishing into the room and
leaving the door ajar behind her.
“The world is composed of little things,” he returned, finishing off the
stack with a last piece of zinc, another copper wire, and a top wooden disc.
“Smaller even than most people realize.”
“That sounds impressive, Michael, but it looks as if you’re just sitting
there counting money.”
“This,” he said, sitting back to look at his aunt and noting that she was
dressed rather fancily for a cup of tea with her nephew, “is a voltaic pile. A
‘battery,’ if you wish to go by Benjamin Franklin’s definition.”
“And what does a voltaic pile do, then?”
“It makes electricity.”
“Hm. Much more practical than attaching a key to a kite and flying it in
a storm, I suppose. Silly Americans.” She removed one glove to slap it
against her hand. “I won’t be back in London until mid-June, at the earliest.
I’ve left instructions about Lancelot with Huston, as I don’t imagine you’re
listening to anything I’m saying, but for God’s sake take him for a walk
once in a while.”
“I am not going to take my butler for a walk,” Michael countered,
frowning. “He can damned well walk himself. And be careful of that
receiver. It took me an hour to fill it with hydrogen.”
“For heaven’s sake, Michael. Not your butler. Lancelot. My poodle.”
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