The Golden Spider (The Elemental Web Chronicles Book 1) by Anne Renwick Page B

her head. “No.”
    Lord Edward, Ned, might be heir to a dukedom, but if it was suspected he could not produce an heir, no decent father would approve a match. Despite the availability of numerous artificial solutions to cope with such leg injuries, a young lady’s family preferred her affianced to have an unaltered, intact, and fully functioning human form.
    If this procedure succeeded, there would be no surface trace of the repair beyond a scar. Ned would be considered “cured”, and young ladies would throng to his side, hoping to be asked for a dance.
    Dance.
    That was something he himself could no longer do. Not that he wished to attend a ball. The opera and the theater were risky enough, but to attend an event where mothers herded flocks of young available women in the direction of the nearest eligible title…‌ Well, his limp and his cane would only provide him a modest amount of protection.
    Lady Amanda cleared her throat and spoke, seeming to read his mind. “If the neurachnid can fully restore a spinal nerve, its Babbage card can be programmed to restore a partially damaged nerve.”
    “Thank you for your consideration, but the procedure would likely fail.”
    She looked up, meeting his eyes as she pulled the goggles from her face. “Why?” Her direct approach‌—‌where others tiptoed‌—‌was almost a relief.
    So he told her. “The German cutlass that cut through my leg was coated with a particularly virulent bacteria. Its toxin immediately began to destroy my nerve.” Her eyes grew large with concern. “Henri does what he can to stop the damage from spreading, but I’m not certain if enough intact nerve remains for your neurachnid to trace.” Not that it would stop him from trying.
    “Oh, Sebastian,” she murmured.
    The sound of his given name on her lips shocked them both so much they jumped as the clock on the wall chimed the hour.
    Eight o’clock.
    “I must go,” she said, leaping to her feet and hastily arranging her work space. “Father extracted a promise that I would attend the Whitmore’s ball.”
    He reached for his cane. “I’ll see you to your steam carriage.”
    “No, please.” She glanced at his leg. “I must hurry.”
    He cringed. He hated being viewed as damaged, as requiring repair. But before he could force his stiff leg to bend against the weight of the metal brace, he found himself alone. Staring at his great iron door.
    ~~~
    Amanda turned sideways, admiring the brocade gown she wore in the mirror. The bodice, the draped overskirt and bustle might be black, but the teal underskirt with knife pleat ruffles provided a dramatic flash of color. Yet the color wasn’t the reason she’d chosen this gown. She’d pulled it from her wardrobe because of its bodice. The décolletage was deeply cut, yes, but the eye-catching feature was that it was only held in place by a black silk cord laced through tab accents in a pattern reminiscent of corset lacings.
    It was a stunning gown designed to snare a man’s attention. Unfortunately, the one man whose dark, tortured glances she craved wouldn’t be in attendance at tonight’s ball.
    Simon would be there, of course, and Amanda would try to feel something more for the man than mere friendship. A proposal would not be long in coming; she would soon need to make a life-altering commitment to a man who did little to evoke strong emotion.
    Not long ago, such a marital prospect would have suited her. Now, her thoughts and emotions were in such a tangle, she wasn’t certain she’d be able to work the knots free.
    It had been easier when she’d thought Thornton a soulless, if darkly beautiful, scientist, but there was more‌—‌much more‌—‌beneath the composed exterior he presented to the world. Unless she missed her mark, he too fought to untangle instinct and duty where she was concerned. She wanted him , not Simon.
    Earlier in the laboratory this evening, she’d felt his stare, felt that intense blue gaze on her