Obsidian Eyes (27 page)

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Authors: A.W. Exley

BOOK: Obsidian Eyes
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Allie and Eloise took up their seats under a window, with a small table between the two of them. Over the next twenty minutes only a few more people joined them. The beast gave a shrill cry once unfettered and it sensed freedom. It clawed its great bulk along the line. As it gathered momentum, its cry became a roar of triumph; its metal body gave full flight and it pulled its many segments, hurtling through the countryside.

With their journey under way, the tea trolley appeared, emitting a discreet hiss as it rolled down the aisle with an accompanying smartly dressed waiter. The strange pair stopped at the girls’ table and the waiter draped an ornate lace cloth over the top. The side of the trolley rose on silent castors and the waiter set to work, grabbing from the multiple compartments. Another door dropped open with a reptilian hiss to spit out a plate of sandwiches and petite fours to accompany Eloise’s pot of tea and Allie’s coffee.

Once the waiter and trolley moved on to the next passengers, Eloise picked up the pretty pink and yellow floral porcelain teapot and poured out her tea before dropping in a slice of lemon. Allie poured cream into her coffee before picking up the cup in two hands, and lifted her feet to curl them under her on the plush seat.

Eloise made a sharp noise in the back of her throat and shook her head at her friend. Allie glanced around, hoping no one noticed her faux pas. She placed her booted feet back on the carpeted floor and let out a sigh of frustration. Yet another tiny example of the many ways she showed her lack of breeding.

“So,” Eloise said as a precursor to the upcoming conversation topic. “Disregarding Madeline, what exactly is the situation between you and Jared?” With pinkie extended, she took a dainty sip of tea.

Allie choked on her coffee, practically snorting it back out her nose in surprise. She came up spluttering from her cup. “Situation? There is no situation, except possibly the one where I stick him with my knife.”

“Exactly,” Eloise said, as though Allie neatly demonstrated some point for her. “But there’s something unusual between you. The air crackles like my electrodes whenever you two are together. And I assume he kissed you at the dance, although you won’t admit it.”

Taken aback by Eloise’s bluntness, Allie resisted the urge to poke her tongue out. “He didn’t really kiss me. Only sort of, well, very briefly and mostly not on the lips.” She couldn’t believe it, colour edged up from under her collar just at the thought of that night.

Eloise is right, whenever he’s around, there’s a constant buzz like her electrodes running over my skin.

“And anyway, he belongs to Madeline. How could you have missed the display as we left?” Allie stared into her coffee.

“I don’t like her and she doesn’t suit him. As I said previously, we can disregard her.”

Eloise had such conviction, Allie couldn’t help smiling. If only conviction could make society change their mind about her acceptability.

“Jared is the heir of a duke and what am I?” Eloise opened her mouth to respond but Allie held up her hand. “Some say I aim too high already, by simply being at St Matthews and having an education. What would society say if I dared to chase after the marquess?” She dropped her tone. “I am common-born and guild-owned. Doors will always be closed to me, Eloise.”

Eloise shook her head, causing her curls to bounce. “It shouldn’t be like that. Things will change when Victoria takes the throne, wait and see.”

“But society is like that and nobody even sees Victoria, let alone knows how she will rule. Some say she will be the puppet of her mother and her lover.”

Allie frowned and chewed the edge of her cup. Thinking of her close encounters with Jared, she was in no doubt about what he wanted. However, he never offered anything in return. The splintered part of her heart fractured a little more, sending an ache through her torso. She wanted something he could never offer. “He’s seventeen and he wants a physical distraction, nothing more. There’s no intention on his part, except to make Madeline jealous.”

Eloise’s brow knitted in concentration. Allie could imagine her marshalling her inner thoughts for another attack.

“Leave it, please?” Allie asked of her friend, before the next wave of assault came.

Eloise reached out and patted Allie’s hand. “All right, I’ll save it for another day. But I do intend to give Jared a piece of my mind when I see him in Edinburgh. He has no right to play with you like that.”

“Well, at least we agree on that.” Allie reached out for a crustless cucumber sandwich, mentally noting not to be around when Eloise finally tackled Jared. She wondered, given the choice between her dagger or a lecture from Eloise, which would he choose?

The two friends passed the rest of the journey with either light-hearted chatter or companionable silence, watching the scenery speed past their window. When they did talk, they carefully avoided any mention of Jared. Something else preyed on Allie’s mind, and she decided to say it aloud.

“What have you told your aunt about me?”

Eloise regarded her with a steady gaze. “That you are a school friend.”

“An impoverished bastard one, of no family, and a thief?”

“I told Aunt Melda your parents died when you were young and you have been raised by your grandfather. I told her Alfred Donovan is an Oxford scholar and highly regarded abroad and in England.”

Eloise’s words did little to reassure Allie. She felt incredibly out of place in a world where virtual death awaited those who used the wrong fork to eat their foie gras.

“You forget, my family value education; otherwise I would never have been sent to Saint Matthews in the first place. Your grandfather being a scholar is prized as highly by us as other families feel if they have an earl seated at their table.” Eloise gave Allie’s arm a quick squeeze and Allie felt able to relax for the remainder of their journey.

The journey from York to London took only a few hours thanks to the speed of the new railway, and they soon pulled into the London Bridge station. The station was unfinished, with parts of it still under construction. That didn’t stop the railway, which opened regardless. The station was taking form as a gorgeous ornate red brick building with a massive arched wooden roof. It was mainly the construction of the complex roof structure which attracted a large number of curious bystanders. Many also came to gape and swoon at the monstrous engines.

Already there were rumours swirling as to the viability of trains as opposed to the airships, but plenty of people preferred terrestrial travel. Plus, the airships remained exceedingly expensive, making them the sole domain of the upper classes, whereas the new steamers put travel within the grasp of the middle classes.

The shuddering beast came to a halt, heaving steam from underneath its hot flanks after its long run. Temporarily subdued, mechanics and porters quickly swarmed its sides, restraining it and making it safe for the passengers within to alight.

Once their door swung open, Allie emerged on the top step and paused. More than three years had passed since she was last in London, and that was under very different circumstances. A shadow passed over her and ran through her body.

“Is everything all right?” Eloise asked from behind, her progress hindered by her friend, frozen on the step.

“Yes, fine.” Allie shook off the chill and hopped down with a bounce in her stride. Eloise took her place and stood demurely, waiting until she was handed down. Allie rolled her eyes, yet another reminder she was not gently bred, although really, who could be bothered having to wait at the top of stairs for someone to hold your hand?

A porter waited for them with a small cart containing Eloise’s large trunk and their two carpet bags. She came up next to Allie and they linked arms.

“Adventure lies this way,” she said, pointing forwards with her parasol and a twinkle in her eyes. She gestured for the porter to follow them and they strolled along the platform, avoiding the passengers streaming in either direction.

“Aunt Melda!” Eloise cried. Forgetting all appearances of decorum, she rushed toward a portly woman, dressed in deep maroon and bearing a startling resemblance to a Christmas plum. A gaggle of young children surrounded her, swarming like worker bees tending their queen.

“Eloise!” went up the cheer from the little people. She was soon swamped by a wave of laughter and joyous cries.

Allie watched and laughed at the apparent chaos until Eloise reached out a hand and dragged her into the melee.

“This is my friend Allie,” she said. The youngsters bombarded Allie with a thousand different questions all at once.

“Lady Bainbridge,” Allie started to say to the large plum like woman, only to be waved off.

“You must call me Aunt Melda, I’ll not stand on formality with any friends of my darling niece,” she said with authority and Allie heaved a sigh of relief.

Eloise’s aunt gave the porter instructions and slipped some coins into his palm to ensure their scant luggage was loaded into an awaiting buggy, large enough to hold the entire Bainbridge family.

Once Allie become accustomed to the brood and their rapid movement she counted six children, although at times she swore they made enough noise for ten times that number. It was an exciting ride in the steam carriage, made even more so by the continual bouncing of the children over the axle. Allie expected to see flaming missiles shoot out of the rear caboose, as fiery lumps of coal were dislodged by the children’s activity.

Eloise and Allie fielded questions about the train ride and St Matthews. The boys were particularly interested in the train and wanted to know the minute details of what it was like inside and how fast did it go.

The Bainbridge London town house was in a respectable, although slightly shabby, part of Soho. Allie was relieved to find it wasn’t high end or she would never have relaxed. She would have been constantly on guard from making some social faux pas, like putting her feet up on the furniture. A house with worn edges and scuffmarks was far more welcoming than a pristinely maintained show home.

As soon as Allie walked up the red brick steps and over the green-painted threshold she felt at home. Toys and books lay scattered across the entranceway and the most divine smell wafted up from the kitchens. The children swept her into the reception room, which doubled as their playroom, so they could more closely interrogate her. She backed into a sofa. Children dove to claim books, balls, and dolls before she sat down and one of the youngest children clambered up into her lap.

“Is it true that you’ve been to Egypt?” one of the older twins asked wide-eyed.

“Yes.” Allie was happy to talk about her time there and it must have seemed terribly exotic to the youngsters. “I lived there for over three years, while my grandfather helped uncover ancient treasures and translated hieroglyphics written on the monuments.”

A collective cry of awe came from the children at the thought of living somewhere so mysterious. They drowned her in further questions: where did she live? What did she wear? What did people in Egypt eat? What toys did the children have? Did she climb the Sphinx or ride a camel?

Eloise scooped up the youngest child from her place on Allie and resettled the child on her own knee, while Allie set about answering the multitude of questions to the best of her ability. To the delight of the boys, she told them the story of Osiris, betrayed by his brother Seth and torn apart by crocodiles. His wife, Isis, scoured Egypt, searching for his pieces to put her lover back together again. Soon the gong rang to announce dinner and Allie was relieved to have a break. Her throat was sore from all the unaccustomed talking.

The Bainbridge family ate together, rather than secluding the children in the nursery and they each took their allotted place at the large table with only the minimum amount of pushing and shoving. Allie and Eloise sat across from each other, with Aunt Melda at the head of the table, overseeing all the activities. Dinner was as noisy as any other activity in the Bainbridge household, but at least the children were engaged in eating and not asking constant questions.

“Do you have any siblings?” Melda asked Allie during a rare break in the noise.

“No, I’m an only child.”

“You must find this quite overwhelming, then.” The older woman looked worried as though the collective impact of the brood might force Allie to run screaming from the house.

“When my grandfather took me to Egypt I was placed in the harem, where I had forty sisters, so I am quite accustomed to noise at meal times.”

After demolishing a tasty dinner, it was time to start the long process of settling the children to bed. Allie escaped to the room she would share with Eloise. Exhausted by the day’s events, she longed to crawl between the sheets.

She picked up her carpetbag and dumped it on the bed to unpack. A muffled squeak came from deep within. As she opened the bag, a silver head popped up, large ears rotating, eyes glowing a deep red as Weasel surveyed his new surroundings.

“A stowaway.” She lifted Weasel out and set him on the bed. “How come you won’t leave the library, but you’ll hitch a ride to London?”

The creature sat on his haunches and dropped his head low.

“I could take you through to the nursery. The kids would love to play with you.”

Weasel hissed, stood on all fours and raised the razor spikes attached to each vertebra along his spine down to the tip of his tail.

“No kids then?” She gave a laugh as she shed her clothing and slipped a nightshirt over her head, before sliding between the crisp white cotton sheets. With the brood finally settled, she found the complete silence eerie. Her ears rang trying to comprehend the engulfing peace. Lying back on pillows, she watched as Weasel circled the room, listening to the noises of the house. Satisfied, he jumped on the bed and settled by Allie’s feet.

“I don’t know where they find the energy,” she said to Eloise, when her friend slipped into their room.

“You better get used to it, they are determined to come shopping.” She picked up her hairbrush and sat on the end of the bed to brush out her hair.

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