The Golden Spider (The Elemental Web Chronicles Book 1) (18 page)

“I don’t think he wishes to be distracted,” Amanda answered. “Not by me. He scurried quickly back inside that shell.” The moment rational thought returned and he realized he’d kissed a student.

“A shame. If that’s what you want, leave him there. Otherwise, lure him back out. The man, he has inside such life and loyalty if only…‌” Catching sight of a vardo, Henri trailed off, but it was not the one for which they searched.

Despite Thornton’s clear determination their relationship would remain professional, she’d no intention of ceasing her attempts to break through the man’s hard exterior. During that brief experience, when all of that passion had been directed at her…‌ Something inside her had certainly cracked.

Her world had shifted and now hung askew, and the easy assumption that she would marry Sommersby had grown exponentially harder. Not only did that man have two left feet‌—‌one of the many reasons she’d thought to hide‌—‌but he lacked vision, drive. Passion.

Once she’d thought to content herself with a permissive, passive husband. One she could control. One she could predict.

Now she wanted something…‌ more. She wanted a husband whose touch sent blue flames jumping across her skin, a husband whose mind and ambitions were equal to her own. She wanted a partner, not simply a spouse.

“He’s shown incredible loyalty to Lord Huntley, agreeing to keep his wife on as an assistant in his laboratory after he committed such treachery.”

Henri laughed. “Is that what you think? My dear, Lady Huntley is no burden. How do you think she met Lord Huntley? I am told he was no more inclined to attend a ball than Thornton. That he attended through duty. No, they met through a shared passion for science.”

“Really?” Misplaced envy flared.

He nodded. “A sad, sad tale. The long-distance transmitter was her invention, you see. Without her invention, the acousticocept would not be. I am told it was a whirlwind romance, a swift wedding and, dreadfully, a marriage cut short.”

They ought not be gossiping so, but if Amanda was going to pursue Thornton, the more information she had…‌ “I’m told Lord Huntley sold a device under development to the Germans, a prototype.”

“When Thornton was brought to me, he’d lost quite a bit of blood. That was bad enough, but the infection, the bacterially secreted toxins, left him raving. From what I could piece together, Lord Huntley transmitted their location to the Germans the entire time they were in the air. Airship pirates, ha!”

“Yet they killed him, Lord Huntley,” she said, forcing her feet to move again.

“So they did. Sliced his neck the moment they had what they’d come for.” Henri paused a moment. “Thornton rewarded those who were faithful. He saved Lady Huntley by making her his most trusted assistant, and he opened opportunities for me. Here, I am compensated well enough to take better care of Mama. She is ill.”

Amanda glanced at Henri. “What ails her?”

He shrugged. “No one can say. Not even the best physicians Thornton makes available. Yesterday a letter arrived informing me she has taken a turn for the worse.”

“Can she not come here?”

“Will not.” He shook his head. “I make plans to visit her. Soon.”

“Henri! Old friend,” a voice hailed. In the fog, Nicu’s figure shimmered before his maroon vardo. Behind him stood his grumpy apprentice, Milosh.

“At last,” Henri said. “So, enough of what is past. The present is enough for now. We will find the parts for this newest spider modification and do as we must to access the cranial nerve roots. Still, I think, you and I will work to be certain that one day soon, your neurachnid can spin a filament that will repair Thornton’s leg.”

“We will.” Even if it meant she did not sleep for the rest of the month.

They climbed the stairs into the caravan, exchanging greetings, politely declining Nicu’s offer to have Milosh serve tea and biscuits, and moving swiftly to business.

“Those fish claw pins you asked for, Henri, I have found them.” Nicu pulled a wooden box from a shelf and handed it to him.

“Wonderful,” Henri exclaimed. Monocle in place, he began to pluck through the various pins, muttering excitedly under his breath. Then, suddenly remembering himself, he looked up. Beneath his crooked top hat, his magnified eye seemed to bulge in alarm. “So sorry, Lady Amanda, let us first attend to your list.” He lowered the box.

She fought the temptation to laugh at the picture he presented. “No, Henri, find what you need. Take your time.”

“Milosh,” Nicu said. “Please see to Henri’s needs. I have some very special pieces I wish to suggest to Lady Amanda.”

Milosh glowered, but moved to stand beside Henri.

Nicu took her list and drew her aside, deeper into the vardo near a wooden partition that divided the business half from the living half. The door providing entry was ajar, beyond it nothing but a simple bed and a small table and chair.

He spread an array of clockwork components before her, his smile fading. “Lady Amanda, the Romanichal currently of Putney Heath are in disarray. My sister, Nadya, despairs. She is certain your chemists will not be able to replicate the formula without the bloom of the
amatiflora
. The elders wish to move on, immediately. The younger men wish to seek vengeance and actively hunt this eye doctor.” He shook his head. “Now there are
gadjos
living among us, desecrating our camp. These men claim to be there at Lord Avesbury’s request, yet refuse to tell us anything about what is happening. Is any progress being made? Any hint as to who this murderer might be?”

Father had inserted guards at the gypsy camp? She shook her head. “None. We know only that he is very clever. And German, or likely so. He seeks to use my clockwork spider and Emily’s formula to his own government’s end.” Guilt tightened her chest. Even sharing this much felt like a betrayal. “As to the potion, I’ve heard nothing.”

“Yet you continue to build another spider and ask Emily to continue her work on the formula.” His voice was bitter. Unlike Amanda, his loyalty was not divided. “It seems to me, that like the Germans, the British have their own nefarious goals.”

“Those of self-preservation,” she replied. “We do not, will not, resort to such unethical means to make scientific progress. The eye doctor, he has no such scruples. Will you help?”

Nicu shook his head. “Not directly. We claim no citizenship. We only wish to live in peace.”

“The eye doctor is unlikely to allow that.”

“Nor is the British government.”

Amanda sighed. “Then we must all do what we think is best and hope to end this soon.”

“Guard this device well.” His expression was stern. “I did not teach you all I know only to see it turned upon my people.”

“I will.” Every day she regretted not installing a more secure lock upon her laboratory door. “You will guard Emily?”

“Of course. We all will,” he said. Nicu pointed to a golden gear. Back to business. “This one. The cogs are tempered with iridium and will not bend.”

Chapter Eighteen

W
ITH THE PARTS THEY
required in hand, Amanda and Henri returned to the laboratory and set to work. The afternoon hours melted into those of the early evening. The great iron door opened and closed as laboratory technicians departed one by one, until only she and Henri remained.

Then Henri too reached for his coat. “It is late. Perhaps that is enough progress for today?”

Amanda sat back, flipping up the lenses of her glasses. Her eyes were dry. Her neck ached. And she deeply regretted her fashionable choice of attire. The too-tight corset she wore dug into her ribs, but she’d wanted Thornton to look at her again with heat in his eyes, now more than ever. There was more between them than work alone, and Amanda intended to explore those possibilities. She didn’t care that his leg was failing. She could help, if only he’d let her. If physical beauty was the key to drawing his attention…‌

Amanda sighed. She’d seen neither hide nor hair of the man she’d worn it for, not since this morning’s anatomy lecture. Even then, he refused to so much as look in her direction. She flirted with disaster, but for a man like Thornton, she would take the risk.

If only he would return the sentiment.

Alas, all he seemed interested in pursuing was the neurachnid and the nerve agent. Yet even after the spider was rebuilt, even after the formula was reconstituted, how would it bring them any closer to catching the eye doctor?

She wanted to
do
something. Something to lure the eye doctor from his lair, but she couldn’t act on her own. So, until Thornton or Black saw fit to include her…‌ She glanced at the tightly closed door to the inner laboratory.

“
Oui
. He is inside. It may be hours before he emerges.”

“I’ll just adjust the tension on this spring then…‌”

“
Bien sur
. Do as you think best.” He gave her a knowing wink and exited the lab.

Amanda sat there, screwdriver in hand. Was she being tested to see if she could continue working for him after their…‌ moment? Or punished for daring to confront him? She looked around the empty laboratory. Or perhaps just forgotten.

Whichever it was, she’d had enough. Under the watchful eyes of the rats, she locked the neurachnid in its safe, along with the as yet unused clockwork pieces, and reached for her cape. The rats suddenly froze, every whiskered nose pointing toward the door at the back of the laboratory, every sensitive pink ear on alert. The door’s many gears began to turn.

Lady Huntley stepped from within, her face tight and unreadable. “Amanda, if you’re ready, Thornton and Black have arranged for a one-time visit to our interior laboratory. If you’ll place your hand here.” She gestured to a security pad much like the one used to unlock the laboratory’s great iron door.

Her exhaustion forgotten, Amanda crossed the room and placed her hand on the glass plate. As Lady Huntley made adjustments in the device, she studied the woman. Dressed in full mourning, the absence of color only highlighted the woman’s bright hair and pale complexion. An ethereal beauty. The moment a full year had passed, the moment the color of her attire lightened, gentlemen would be in pursuit.

“I was sorry to learn of your…‌ situation,” she offered. All too easily it could have been Amanda in her position.

Lady Huntley’s fingers paused. “You refer to my indentured servitude? I understand Thornton informed you of my husband’s traitorous acts.”

Delicacy was not her strong suit, but Amanda tried. “Is it so very awful? The conditions?”

“Working here, with Thornton, is everything a neuroscientist could dream. Any resource I desire, I have only to ask. Socially, my life is a nightmare. When I leave the laboratory, I return to my husband’s town home and stay there‌—‌alone‌—‌until it is once again time to return here.”

Amanda felt an upwelling of sympathy.

The only daughter of a wealthy industrialist, Lady Huntley had stayed at her father’s side, caring for him. Though instead of needle-pointing pillows, she’d experimented with magnetic aether waves and, over time, developed the transmitter now used in the acoustico work. Upon her father’s death, she’d done the near impossible‌—‌she’d put
herself
on the
ton
marriage mart and managed to land an earl in less than a month.

“May I ask a personal question, Lady Huntley?”

“You already have.” Lady Huntley did not meet her eyes. Instead, she pressed a heavy metal plate onto the surface of Amanda’s hand, pushing her palm into an odd pliable substance. “You may feel a slight tingle.”

“Do you wish you’d never married?” A faint electrical pulse ran through her fingers.

Lady Huntley’s hand shook as it hovered above a lever. “Our marriage was mutually beneficial, my dowry for his title‌—‌and the ability to continue my work. It wasn’t love at first sight. Although, in the short time we had together, a certain…‌ understanding developed.”

“Would you…‌ recommend marriage?”

“That is two questions.” Lady Huntley pulled the lever. A final gear turned and the lock released. “If you’ll follow me.”

A sore point, Amanda realized. She’d overstepped her bounds, but it was hard not to compare herself to Lady Huntley. They were of a same age and had similar interests. A husband was a complicating factor, and she wasn’t certain how one would alter the equation of her life. Lady Huntley was the only one she knew who might be able to shed light on the matter.

Perhaps‌—‌scientist or not‌—‌the widow of a traitor was not the woman she should ask.

She stepped through the door.

The inner laboratory space was much like the outer one, only smaller. On a miniature operating table lay a white rat, his nose connected to a miniature ether mask. Lord Thornton sat on a stool beside his patient, manning the anesthesia. He nodded a greeting, barely glancing at her.

The rat’s foot twitched. “A few minutes more. While we wait, Lady Amanda can inspect the device.” He indicated a small metal tray holding a number of tools and, nestled in gauze, a small pink glass sphere with a long wire protruding from its center.

“The phaoscope?” Amanda did not touch the sterile object. “It’s so small.” She looked at Thornton. “This cannot be the device the eye doctor is attempting to activate.”