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Authors: Cindy Spencer Pape

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

Steam & Sorcery (21 page)

BOOK: Steam & Sorcery
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Her lips curved into a soft, shaky smile. “I’m going upstairs to put the children to bed. If you want to…talk to me later, you’ll know where I am.”

He grinned back. “Until later then.” He watched the sway of her backside as she walked out the door and shifted to ease the discomfort in his trousers. Good thing he’d stopped at the chemist’s on the way home today.

Chapter Thirteen
 

Caroline couldn’t believe Merrick had talked her into riding in an airship on the trip to Oxfordshire. Sure, she was swathed in a heavy traveling cloak with her hands tucked firmly into a muff, and Merrick and Tommy kept her between them to prevent her from accidentally brushing against anything mechanical, but still, she was terrified she’d damage something important by proximity and cause them all to plummet in a fiery crash.

At least worrying about her seemed to distract Tommy from his own anxieties. The boy was putting up a good front of nonchalance, but Caroline could tell he was nervous about meeting his possible grandfather.

“Would you prefer to ride in the cabin or out on the observation deck?” Merrick asked, his voice pitched loudly over the engines and fans of the dirigible.

Where would she do the least damage? At least the engines hadn’t stopped whirring the moment she’d stepped onto the deck. That was a good sign. Merrick had cast some sort of spell in the carriage on the way to the airfield—one he’d thought would negate some of her anti-mechanical energy.

“Outside, please?”

Caroline couldn’t resist Tommy’s plea—it was so rare to see him acting like a normal boy of fifteen. She allowed herself to be guided out to the forward, first-class observation deck, glad for the lead-weighted outer hoop that would hold her skirts in place in the wind. Despite her trepidation, she did want to see what the world looked like from so high above.

“The rail?” Merrick, looking dashing in his long duster coat and tweed driving cap, gestured forward. Caroline nodded. She pulled the small brass goggles down from the crown of her hat, which was tied securely beneath her chin with a long silk scarf. Tommy and Merrick donned larger, leather-rimmed ones, which also served to secure their hats in place and they found a spot right near the prow of the gondola. Caroline clung to Merrick’s arm to keep from accidentally leaning on the ship.

“Wink would love this,” she yelled as the engines whirred more loudly and the airship began to rise. “Jamie, too, though I’d want him tied to the rail, for safety.”

“Next time,” Merrick promised. He squeezed her waist with the arm he had wrapped around it. “Perhaps next weekend we’ll run down to Brighton, so they can see the ocean.” He glanced over at Tommy, who stared fixedly ahead, then dropped a quick kiss on Caroline’s nose. “All right so far?”

She felt herself blush, even as she nodded. In the last few days, he’d begun to treat her less like an employee and more like a member of the family than she was comfortable with. Even the man at the ticket gate had assumed they were husband and wife, and Merrick had said nothing to correct him, just given Caroline’s elbow a fond pat. Tommy, with Merrick’s height and a slightly darker version of Caroline’s coloring, could easily be their son—if she’d had him at age twelve, of course. Still, it was so easy to imagine them all as a family,
her
family, that minor details like age could be overlooked.

Merrick had come to her bed every night since that first time. While he’d taught her some wondrous things about the art of making love, they’d also spent a great deal of time talking. It was becoming very difficult to separate Merrick, her lover, from Sir Merrick, her employer.

Caroline held her breath as the vast dirigible rose into the sky. In just minutes, they were above the soot and smoke that filled the London air. Shortly after, they left Town behind and could look down at vast tracts of green, dotted here and there by farms and villages, bisected by tarmac roads, gravel lanes, blue rivers and muddy canals. The view was nearly spectacular enough to draw her attention away from the man who held her so carefully close.

“Look at that, Miss Caro.” Tommy bounded over and stood beside them, practically quivering. “Who’d have ever imagined there was so much green in the whole world?”

Even in the vast space of Hyde Park, the green was so overlain with soot that it wasn’t the same. “Have you ever been out of the city before, Tommy?”

The boy shook his head. “Not that I remember, at any rate. This is like something out of one of Nell’s faery stories.”

Caroline laughed. “I agree.” Though she meant everything about her life of late, not just the lush green fields beneath them.

It didn’t take long until the airship descended at a field outside of Oxford. Merrick had arranged for a friend to meet them there, another Knight, whose specialty was apparently divination magick. Rhys, Marquess Drood, a ruddy-faced, cheerful man in his mid-forties, with a thick Welsh accent, greeted them warmly. He was pleasant to Caroline, but paid particular attention to Tommy as the hired carriage rolled over the macadam toward the home of Sir Andrew.

“Tom, before we go in, can you tell me everything your mother ever told you about your father? A name? Even his coloring or height?” Lord Drood’s questioning was couched in such a friendly tone, it didn’t strike Caroline as invasive, but Tommy squared his jaw and his shoulders.

“He was a toff,” Tommy said. He caught Caroline’s raised eyebrow and corrected his speech. “I know that. She told me once or twice that I’ve the look of him. I know he was tall, like me. Mum was a tiny little thing, like you, Miss Caro.”

Lord Drood smiled. “Good, good. Now anything else? Did she ever mention a wedding?”

Tommy bit his lip, then nodded slowly. “Maybe. I remember her arguing once, with one of her men. There was always a man, living in the flat, but this one…it was worse than most. She claimed she’d married, but her husband had deserted her. The bas—umm—blighter just laughed and told her everyone knew the ceremony and her paper were just a sham. A common trick to get a girl on her back.”

“It can be,” Merrick admitted. “But in this case, maybe not. Do you have her papers, Tom?”

Tommy shook his head. “No. They had another fight, not long after that. I wanted to hide, but she was screaming something awful, so I ran out and hit the old bugger with the teapot. He just laughed, kicked me in the ribs and ran down the stairs. Must’ve knocked over a lamp on his way out. Mum was on the floor, dead. Then I smelled smoke. I dragged her out, but of course there was no point. And I couldn’t save any of her things.”

“How old were you?” Lord Drood asked.

“Eight.”

“Did you ever find the man?” Merrick’s voice held curiosity, but no trace of recrimination.

Tommy looked askance at Lord Drood, but nodded. “Aye. He won’t hurt anyone else ever again.”

“Good lad.” The words came from both adult male mouths at once. Caroline just reached across and squeezed Tommy’s hand where it lay on his knee. To her surprise, he squeezed back—an unusual gesture of affection from him.

“Do you know your birthday, lad?”

“August, 1835. Can’t remember the day.”

Lord Drood nodded. “Malcolm Devere died in December of ’34.”

“Less than a week after the date on the marriage license,” Merrick added. “Which may or may not be the sham that Lucy Porter obviously believed it to be.”

“I can try to test it for honesty,” Lord Drood said. “But after all this time, a genuine response isn’t likely.”

Merrick nodded. “Sir Andrew did have an investigator search for his son’s missing wife, and the minister. He never found either.”

“I know my mum’s parents threw her out when she turned up pregnant,” Tommy said. “So if someone went looking for her, they might never find her. Whitechapel and Wapping aren’t far apart as the crow flies, but enough, in London.”

“True.” Merrick gave Tommy a bracing grin. “Well, we’ll find out more soon. Buck up, lad. We’re here.”

In the hushed confines of the huge manor house, a servant escorted them to an upstairs sitting room, where they were met by a man in a clockwork wheelchair. The odor of illness filled the room, and Caroline knew at once that Merrick hadn’t exaggerated the man’s condition.

“Nice to see you again, Sir Andrew.” Merrick shook the older man’s trembling hand. “You know Lord Drood, of course. And this is Miss Bristol, a dear family friend who’s acting as temporary governess.”

Temporary? What did he mean by that? Caroline took her gloves off to shake the old man’s hand. She sent whatever soothing energy she had across the link. While she still wasn’t sure she had any actual power, if she did, she wanted to ease his pain, if only for a little while. Lord Drood raised one steel-gray eyebrow, but didn’t say a thing. Caroline stepped aside as Merrick brought Tommy forward.

“And this,” Merrick said, his arm around Tommy’s shoulder, “is Master Thomas Porter, Knight-in-training. Tom, this is Sir Andrew Devere, retired Knight of the Order.”

Tommy managed a very credible bow. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

“And I, you,” said Sir Andrew, holding out his hand. “Welcome to Stonechase, my boy.”

Tommy carefully shook the fragile hand. “But the house isn’t stone, sir. So why is it called Stonechase?”

“Ah, a long story that. Perhaps someday I’ll have time to tell you. If not, there’s a book about the house and its history on the shelf over there. For now, though, do you understand why Sir Merrick brought you here?”

Tommy nodded. “To see if you are my grandfather.”

The old man smiled. “I am. I can see my Malcolm in your eyes, plain as day.”

Caroline’s eyes watered at the sight of a single tear dropping down Sir Andrew’s cheek.

“He tricked my mother with a false wedding.” Tommy said, a tremor in his voice she’d never heard before.

“He may have,” Sir Andrew agreed. “Or it may have been real. And we may never know for certain.”

“Tom, will you have a seat, and lay your hand on top of Sir Andrew’s, there on the table?” Lord Drood spoke softly. “Sir Andrew, if you could put yours on top of the marriage license? I’d like to try a spell if you two don’t mind.”

Sir Andrew smiled. “Not at all, Rhys.” He laid his bony hand on the piece of parchment atop a fine lace tablecloth.

“Yes, sir.” Tommy sat in a small chair pulled up to the same table and placed his hand on top of Sir Andrew’s. Then Drood stood between the two and laid his own palm over both. He closed his eyes and chanted something in a language Caroline didn’t recognize. Welsh? Something even older? A soft glow seemed to surround the three linked hands.

Lord Drood—from druid?—smiled when the glow receded and his chanting stopped. “I can say with absolute certainty that young Thomas here is indeed the son of Malcolm Devere—and that he’s bloody damn powerful for an untrained Knight. As to the license, I have a few general impressions. One, the young lady believed at the time that the ceremony was genuine. Two, Malcolm thought it was a hoax, but was well into his cups at the time. Three, the minister was genuine—a traveler who’d just stopped in the tavern for a drink. He
did
file the papers before he left Town—that’s how you got this, right, Andrew?”

Sir Andrew nodded. “Some London civil servant mailed it.”

“Now as to whether everything is strictly legal—I can’t be sure.” Drood looked around at each face. “However, I think we have enough to get a positive ruling from Her Majesty if Trowbridge requests one. Can each of you support this action, or are any of you uncomfortable stretching the fine points of legality?”

“It’s not my decision,” Merrick said. “I’ll support Sir Andrew, whatever he decides. Tom is already my ward, whether he’s Sir Andrew’s legal heir or not. It doesn’t matter to me at all.”

“I want this,” Sir Andrew said. He opened his arms wide. “Tom? Can you spare a hug for your grandfather?”

His face pale with shock, Tommy leaned forward and clasped Sir Andrew in an awkward embrace. “You’re really my granddad?”

“I am, son. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Forgive you? For what?”

“For not looking harder. For not finding you before now and bringing you home.”

Tommy shook his head. “You didn’t know. I didn’t know. But if I’d come here, what would have happened to Wink and the little ones?”

“Tommy has a point,” Caroline interjected. “Without him, the others might not have survived—especially Piers.” And while the girls might have lived, Caroline shuddered to think about how. “Perhaps it was fate that brought everyone together at just the right time.”

“Fate and Sir Merrick,” Drood said with a quick twist of his lips.

“Well, Tom,” said Sir Andrew. “Do you think you’ll mind having this great heap to care for? I wish I’d be around to teach you, but I’ve a good steward, and I’m sure Sir Merrick will help you learn to manage an estate.”

Tommy’s blue eyes went huge. “This? This is to be mine someday?” His expression held more panic than joy.

“Sooner rather than later, I’m afraid.” Andrew leaned back in his wheelchair, face strained and white. “But I hope not just yet. I’d like to see this settled first, and maybe have a chance to get to know you, just a little, before I go.”

“Yes, sir.” Tommy sucked in a deep breath and smiled at his grandfather. His voice cracked. “I’d like that, sir. I’d like that very much.”

 

 

It was very late that night when Merrick made his way to Caro’s room. She lay propped up in bed, wearing just a satin wrapper, her glossy hair brushed out and tumbling around her shoulders. Her smile as she looked up at him and set aside her book was brilliant.

“The children are settled?” He padded over to the bed, locking her door behind him.

“Yes. It took a while.” She scooted to the side to make room for him on the bed. “They’re all so excited for Tommy, though I think they’re all a little afraid he’s going to become a ‘toff’ and leave them behind.”

“Not likely. I don’t think the others realize that they’re toffs now too, do they?” Easing down beside her felt like the most natural thing in the world. Before he let her answer, he took her lips in a long, sensual kiss. “God, I’ve missed that all day.”

Her arms looped around his neck, she grinned. “Mmm. Me too.”

“No, you were too busy being terrified of the airship.” Teasing her was the most fun he’d had in ages—well, except for making her moan. That was even more fun.

“Well, there’s that. But I have a question, Merrick. How is it that Lord Drood and Sir Andrew didn’t mind my being there? I thought you were forbidden to tell anyone about the Order.”

BOOK: Steam & Sorcery
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