Lairs, Caves, & Credenzas Read online

  Mr. Rathburn shared a knowing smile with Louisa and patted Elenore’s knee. “Yes, if it hadn’t been for Elly, I don’t think I would’ve pulled through.”

  Louisa bit her lip to stifle a chuckle. It was terrible, but her mother said all men felt that way after ingesting Heartache. Time helped the poison pass through the system, not love and attention. Still, company, when you’re ill, could make the difference between a lingering episode and a speedy one.

  “The constabulary were not convinced anything was amiss until Elly pointed out my meal and a strange blue tinge to my potatoes.”

  Louisa caught the girl’s appreciative gaze and smiled. They’d agreed it was best if Louisa wasn’t connected to the incident, especially with the break-in and trouble surrounding the cloud-seeding project of late. At least, that’s how Louisa had convinced Elenore not to say anything.

  “And now?” Bennett asked, reaching for his hot tea.

  “Well, they’ve done the best they can, but it’s not like they’re able to interview everyone who attended the races to see if they noticed anything amiss. They looked into Gunnings and his crew, but they were all accounted for. Still, it makes the most sense—and Elly agrees—that it’s related to the debut of Collingworth’s and Gunnings’s engines.”

  “So, they’re at a dead-end then?” Bennett asked.

  “Yes, unfortunately.”

  “Same here. I think our case has gone cold. At least no one else has tried to sabotage this project.”

  “Curious, isn’t it?” Rathburn set his empty plate on the occasional table and picked up his tea. “There’s been a rash of incidents reported of late. What do you make of that fellow Tweed’s assessment of the female vigilante? One moment she’s the city’s new hero, the next she’s wanted as a suspect related to these crimes.”

  Louisa coughed into her tea. Bennett patted her back until she could take in a deep breath.

  “Are you all right, my dear?” Rathburn asked.

  She dropped her eyes, too embarrassed to respond. Louisa looked to Elenore, imploring help with her gaze.

  “Likely just a stray crumb. Happens to the best of us.” Elenore set her empty plate aside. “Dinner was just the right balance of refreshing and satisfying. You are very thoughtful, Andrew.”

  Bennett also set his plate aside and smiled at the girl. Rathburn glanced between the two, his expression a mix of confidence, pride, and a dash of protection.

  Oh, bother, he means to pair them off. Gratitude warred with jealousy. Louisa’s stomach tried to reject the food she’d eaten, and she still had a morsel of sandwich and a square of cake to get through. It was permissible to leave crumbs, but not that much. She swallowed, tried for a steadying breath, and managed to push air past the growing lump in her throat.

  Rathburn coughed slightly. “So, Andrew, your invitation to lunch gleamed with possibility and excitement. Tell me, what is it you have up your sleeve now?”

  Bennett’s entire frame simultaneously relaxed and twitched with eagerness. “We officially have a date for the presentation of the patent. Saturday, November four. With funds from my backers, I can hire a dispersal team of six Minis.”

  “That’s fantastic news, ol’ boy.” Rathburn reached over and clapped Bennett on the shoulder.

  “And I wanted to offer you the opportunity to lead the sky team for the demonstration. The Society has hinted that the Queen might even come to see it rain.” A giddy boyishness took over Bennett’s entire being. He couldn’t sit still.

  “That’s incredible, Andrew!” Elenore leaned forward and clasped her hands with joy as she gazed adoringly at him.

  “Yes, quite.” A frown marred Rathburn’s normally clear visage. “But I do believe I’ll be out of town at the Edinburgh Races, showing off Collingworth’s engine on the circuit until the tenth. It grieves me to have to decline the offer, but he did hire me first. It would be—”

  “Yes, quite all right, Reggie. I completely understand.” Bennett’s tone contradicted his words. “I’ll set my nose to the task of sniffing out another aeronautics expert to—”

  It was Louisa’s turn to clear her throat. “Excuse me for interrupting, gentlemen.” What are you doing, child? Louisa’s mother admonished in her head. Business was not normally women’s concern, but she was Bennett’s assistant and that meant she was just as much a part of this conversation as he. “I do believe we ought to consider Miss. Rath—um … Elly, here, before searching elsewhere. I know, traditionally, an elite representative of the community aids in the presentation of working patents to the Society. Consider Elly’s recent win on behalf of her brother at the Battersea Park Races. Would it not stand to reason that her latest efforts, combined with the renown of Mr. Rathburn, might bring welcome prestige to the presentation along with the trust that comes of a forged friendship—especially now when the constabulary have abandoned our cause and with trust being such a rare commodity?”

  No one spoke for a moment. Gazes flickered from Louisa to Elenore and back while the girl stared openly at Louisa with wide eyes. Mirrored in their depth Louisa’s own emotions roiled between jubilation and fear. Elenore as pilot made perfect sense, but the longer the woman was around, the more opportunity she’d have to spend time with Bennett—and that churned Louisa’s stomach more than she wanted to admit.

  He’d been so kind to her this past month, treating her with respect and an openness and familiarity she’d never experienced. Louisa couldn’t afford to lose that.

  Elenore turned to her brother but spoke to Bennett and Louisa. “While I appreciate your consideration, I travel with Reggie because we have no one else to set roots down with. It would be improper for me to remain here alone, unchaperoned. My place is with my brother.” A thread of uncertainty and wistful pleading undermined the truth of her words.

  “Why, if Reggie agrees, you could stay here. I have a guest suite down the opposite end of the hall on the second floor. Missus Courtright stays in the Nanny suite on the third floor, and Isabel lives with her husband on the lower level.” Bennett took up Louisa’s suggestion as if it was his own.

  Pride blossomed in Louisa, radiating out. Rathburn pursed his lips in thought, but he still wasn’t convinced. His sister’s honor might be at stake as Bennett was an eligible bachelor.

  “And Lou can stay here too. The room is large enough and she can keep Elly company.”

  Louisa blanched. What now?

  He turned to face his assistant. “It would work out perfectly, don’t you think? Not only would Elly have a chaperone, but you wouldn’t have to travel late in the evenings after working on the orbs. You’d be less at risk with the recent rise in crime.” He looked between the three of them, his excitement infectious—at least, for the Rathburns.

  “I think that’s a fine idea. Elly, dear, would this be something you’d like to consider? It would mean reinforcing to the world your status as a pilot and your intent to present yourself in court as an independent woman. Is that what you want?” The pure affection radiating off the man made Louisa’s heart fill her chest. He’d asked his sister, not told her. He truly respected her decision and proved himself a modern nineteenth-century gentleman.

  Elenore took hold of Rathburn’s hands. “Yes.” She looked at Bennett. “Yes, I would be honored to act as lead pilot for the dispersal team.” She faced Louisa, tears threatening to breach her eyes. “Thank you. This means the world to me.”

  Bollocks. What just happened here? How in blazes would Louisa be able to act as guardian to both Elenore and the city while trapped in Bennett’s residence for the next three weeks?

  “It’s settled then. Courtright!” Bennett called for the head housekeeper. She bustled through the door in record time. “Prepare the upper suites for tomorrow. We’ll be entertaining guests for the next three weeks.”

  Double Bollocks.

  Out of the Frying Pan

  N ight wrapped its shadowy embrace around Louisa, but it was cold. So, Louisa folded the long leather drivin
g duster around her too. Steam Landaus and traditional carriages lined the estate’s half-moon drive just as they had the first time Louisa found herself here—at the foot of the Syndicate’s door. Something squished underfoot. A foul odor accosted her. She gagged.

  Bloody horses.

  Louisa shook her foot, pulled farther back into the bushes, and dragged her boot over the dewy grass. The leaves rustled. She stilled.

  Was that me?

  Louisa listened carefully but only the faint strains of a waltz radiated from the manor house. Lamplight flooded the front, and tiny gas lights hung from the trees and the various vehicles, giving the place a fairyland or pixie feel. Elegant lengths of gauzy fabric fluttered about the grounds, pulling Louisa’s usually vigilant gaze astray. She slipped through the dim side yard toward a soft beacon of light glowing from the contours of the blacked-out glass on the old conservatory. Louisa remained in the deeper shadows to the side, reached a black-clad arm out, and knocked.

  “Come in,” said a distracted, muffled voice.

  Louisa opened the door and slipped into her enemy’s lair—well, his daughter’s. Ryn leaned over the large dining-sized work table, wrestling with something. The hair scarf, which matched her cherry and silver saree, kept falling in front of her eyes. A fresh henna decorated her hands. Louisa shut the door, hurried over, and drew back the two lengths before they became entangled in the gears of the device.

  The mechanism gave way. Ryn’s arms relaxed and she set the two pieces down on the table before sniffing the air. Louisa let the scarf fall back into place. She shifted to the side, not only to give the engineer room but also to hide the lingering odor she’d brought in with her. The princess didn’t thank Louisa, but she did reward her with a mischievous smile.

  Louisa laughed. “You know, you might have ruined your outfit doing that.”

  “Perhaps, but not today. So, how is the pistol performing?”

  “Better than I am, I’m afraid. I can’t seem to hit a target while moving.”

  “How far away are you?” Ryn shifted to the opposite end of the workbench to collect a set of brass springs and several small fittings.

  “Some closer, some farther. I’m out of practice ammo.” Louisa dug into the pocket of her long leather duster and withdrew a cheesecloth baggie containing two large bricks of wax and set them on the table.

  “Remember what I said about distance—it’s not a sharp-shooter weapon. The closer you are to your target the better, and as long as the bullet hits the hottest part of the flame, it will work. This isn’t a precision piece. Have fun with it.”

  “Fun … right.” Dancing with Bug’s flames was not Louisa’s idea of a grand time. The spark-bug pyromaniac Ryn’s father employed had little regard for what he scorched. “Speaking of which, it looks like you’re holding quite the gala tonight. Shouldn’t you be enjoying yourself instead of working? Your attire is more dazzling than usual—are you hiding from the festivities?”

  “I’m not hiding. It’s Diwali. I’m praying.”

  “Praying?”

  “Yes, praying that I won’t be disturbed. This is fun for me, and I can meditate on any number of important things while I’m back here working. Once I’ve been presented, I’m allowed to disappear. In fact, everyone prefers it. Besides, it’s just another of my father’s excuses to bring all the bigwigs together. It’s not like he actually cares.”

  “Cares about what?”

  “My mother. He insists on ‘observing’ her traditions as well as his own even though she’s dead.”

  “My condol—”

  “She died when I was four. I hardly remember the woman.” Ryn’s disinterested tone spoke more to her emotional detachment than anything else. Part of Louisa wished she too could separate logic from emotion as easily as Ryn did. But the other part of her knew it wasn’t healthy.

  The princess pointed to a tool near Louisa and wiggled her fingers. Louisa grabbed the metallic item and passed it to her.

  “Why so glum? A lack of blanks for your gun is disheartening but not one to mope about. I’ll have more bearings for you in two days once I’m done this project. Now, what’s really the matter?” She held out her hand for a spring that had rolled across the table toward Louisa.

  “It’s nothing.” Louisa wasn’t sure if this was Ryn’s version of being nice or if she just liked to gossip.

  “Okay. Delude yourself.”

  “What does it matter?”

  “Nothing, except that it does to you.”

  That was an odd thing to say for someone emotionally disconnected. Maybe she had feelings but only for stuff she deemed important. Am I important to her?

  “I’ve gone and agreed to something at my day job that will help my employer, but it means I’ll have a bully of a time getting out at night to help keep the city safe.”

  “No, that’s not it. That would be annoying, but you’re resourceful enough to find a work-around. What’s really the matter?” Ryn never once looked at Louisa as they spoke and yet her acuity to the situation was unnerving.

  “I—um … I think I might have feelings for my boss, but he’s placed me in charge of a woman who clearly dotes on him … and is—”

  “His equal?”

  “I’m his equal.”

  “Are you? He’s your boss, right?”

  Louisa sighed. “Yes, but it’s not like that. He respects my mind, my abilities. He doesn’t talk down to me even though his schooling and stature are above mine.”

  “And this other woman is of similar pedigree to him?”

  “Yes. She’s a lady.”

  “And you are a woman. Well, if you ask me, it sounds like you need to prove something. Not only to him but yourse—” Ryn cocked her head to the side and stared at the door to the house.

  Louisa followed her gaze.

  The knob turned.

  Muffled voices slipped between the door and its frame.

  Ryn whipped around, eyes flashing, and pointed to something at Louisa’s knees. Louisa dropped to the floor as the voices clarified and the door opened. Her heart launched into her throat. She flattened herself and searched for a way out. Ryn pointed again then turned her back to the room to face the intruder.

  Louisa glanced over her shoulder—a small credenza sat with one door slightly ajar. Blast. She choked back a sob, pushed a crate aside, opened the cabinet, and took a deep breath before folding her body into the tight space. The door wouldn’t close all the way. A three-inch gap left her vulnerable, but she didn’t care. The wooden walls and ceiling breathed when she breathed, moving in and out but always drawing closer. She squeezed her knees tighter and held her breath.

  “Brynna, my dear, you didn’t stay at the festivities long.”

  “You know how I feel about being on display,” the princess’s voice deadpanned.

  A second pair of highly polished wing-toed shoes joined the white slacks of the Judge. The complimenting maroon attire drew Louisa’s gaze closer to the crack. The warped walls quieted enough to let her concentrate.

  “Yes, and the less ruffled you are the better.” His tone implied more than just the standard need to placate one’s female heirs.

  I knew it. There is something different about her.

  The steward cleared his throat, prompting the Judge.

  “Yes, yes, I know I need to get back. Ryn, be a dear. I need a new weapon.”

  “Oh?” The princess’s voice perked up. He played to her weakness.

  “Something that will disrupt a Wentworth mechanism. And not just the simple stuff for windows. The disrupter should have several settings, including kill. Are you up to the challenge?”

  Louisa shifted. The muscles between her shoulder blades pressed against something hard and thin. She shifted but the confined space left no room to maneuver. Louisa’s knee clipped the credenza’s door. It swung out just as Ryn’s device clattered to the floor. The engineer shifted between the men and Louisa, blocking their view.

  “Clumsy me.”
Ryn crouched on the far side of the table and shot daggers at the dark crack through which Louisa stared.

  Ryn collected the main device and several pieces that had detached on impact. The mauve-clad steward kneeled down and retrieved a cog near his shoe. The man’s hooked nose and piercing coal-fire gaze locked onto the slightly open credenza. Ryn stood. He sniffed, looking around before rising.

  “It seems you might have a rat infestation,” came the steward’s dry, imperious voice.

  “What’s that now?” the Judge asked, his feet shifting toward the man … closer to Louisa. Fear ignited every nerve adding to her already roiling stomach.

  “I do not have rats.” Ryn’s cold tone frosted the air, sending a chill up Louisa’s spine. The venom lacing her words sent off alarm bells. Sure, they’d had words before, but Louisa had never seen her like this.

  The steward’s feet drew closer to Louisa’s hiding spot. She tried to squeeze into a tighter ball, forcing her back into the sharp metal, fighting to keep from screaming. Dear God … not like this. Not like this.

  She tried to swallow past the dry lump in her throat, tensing every muscle, readying her body for the last stand, for freedom. Ryn’s delicate red slippers trimmed in silver slid around the corner of the table and pivoted to face the steward’s heels.

  “If you so much as breathe on anything in my private workspace”—the air rent with ice-flamed words—“I’ll cut your hands off myself and mount them above the door as a warning. You are here as a courtesy to my father. I don’t take kindly to insults or trespassers. Leave.”

  Heavy metal slid over the table, grinding and clattering. The sharp ring of two pieces connecting punctuated the air.

  “That’s quite enough now, Brynna. McEvoy, stand down. I know you mean well, but my daughter is possessive of her space, and likely her feminine sensibilities have overruled logic. As for the weapon, my dear, I hope three days is challenge enough for you. Goodnight.” Heavy footsteps tromped away followed by the slick slide-slap of the wing-toed shoes.

  Louisa’s lungs burned. Pain jolted through her but she dared not breathe, dared not move. A metallic clunk followed a rattle across the table startling a gasp from her. The too-warm air contradicted the frost of the exchange. Still, Louisa dared not move. Not just because it was prudent to wait and be certain the Judge did not return but also to avoid fracturing Ryn’s space while the girl remained volatile. The princess’s tone belied an emotional reaction under its icy exterior and not because of Louisa. Boarding school mates might cause a diversion like she had, dropping the device Ryn had been working on, but something or someone in the exchange had triggered a deeper hatred in the girl.