The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Box Set

by Kara Jorgensen

  “In theory he should, but from the little I gleaned from Emmeline and what I have seen of his injuries, Immanuel was tortured.” Mrs. Hawthorne swirled her tea absentmindedly as she continued, “When people go through something like that, they either think about nothing but what happened or think about everything but what happened. He has chosen the latter, and honestly, I do not know how to draw him out of it.”

  Hadley thought about what would bring her back into the world or make her smile again, but all that came to mind were her creations or her fiancé. She looked at her oddly quiet twin. The subject had been on his mind from the moment he dropped the stack of books off for Emmeline days ago. Since then, he had asked if she had heard about the blonde man’s condition while unconsciously rubbing his wrist just as he did when he was nervous about an account at work. He tried to mask his concern with indifference, but she saw him flinch as their cousin pronounced the word torture.

  “Do you think a day of sightseeing would help him forget his troubles?”

  “It might, but I do not think I will be able to convince Emmeline to cooperate. I have become her enemy now that I want her to be more than a socialite with a pretty face.”

  “Don’t you think you are being a little hard on her?” Adam brushed at the sawdust and porcelain residue from the workroom floor that stubbornly clung to the bottom of his trousers. “You cannot expect a cosseted child to give up her ways for a more serious life without a fight. Why don’t you tell her that her mother left her a fortune for when she is of age? You are still planning to introduce her in the spring, aren’t you?”

  “If I told her that, she would be an even bigger horror to deal with and there would be no chance of changing her. She would want to spend her entire fortune on new dresses and balls. I want her to understand that there is more to life than just fancy clothes and being a wife. If she applied as much energy to her studies as she does to whining, she would be well on her way to being the first woman in the House of Commons. I am so glad that James was home, so I could escape her tantrums for a little while. I do not know when I will be able to take Immanuel around town without Emmeline.”

  “What if Adam took him instead?”

  Adam’s eyes widened in alarm, but before he could respond, their cousin flashed a tired smile. “Oh, would you? You have been such a great help since all this happened. He will probably enjoy your company more than mine anyway since you are closer to his age and know what he would want to see.” She glanced at the clock near the door. “I should be getting back. Thank you so much, Adam. Would you be willing to collect him tomorrow morning?”

  “Of course,” he replied with a tight grin as he and his sister followed Eliza to the door. He trailed beside her and waited until the other redhead was finally out of sight before turning to his sister. His doppelganger smiled wryly as she easily pushed past him. “And why, may I ask, did you volunteer me to play tour guide to someone I do not even know?”

  “Because you need a day out as much as he does,” Hadley explained as she walked back to her room of automatons but lingered with her hand on the knob, “and because you would like to know him but are too afraid to do it on your own.”

  She quickly shut the door to keep him from arguing, but as he stood on the other side poised to retaliate, he couldn’t help but sigh. Who was he fooling? His twin knew him all too well.

  ***

  It was half-past ten, and Immanuel Winter had already been hammering at the lettered keys for three hours. A partially eaten plate of cold eggs and toast sat beside him along with a pot of tea that had been nearly drained. His eyes stayed locked on the ledger to the right of the typewriter as he tried to block out his blurry eye and focus only on the words that flowed directly from his eyes to his fingertips. Keeping his head down, he pretended not to see the physician standing in the doorway frowning at him.

  “Mr. Winter, I think you should take a break. You have been in here so long you are beginning to become part of the furniture.”

  “I will, but I am nearly done with this one, Dr. Hawthorne,” Immanuel murmured, never missing a letter.

  “You said that last night when I told you to take a break, but you did not stop until well after midnight.” The doctor quietly closed the book and put it aside. “I insist you take a break today.”

  Immanuel’s jaw clenched as his fingers froze over the keys, stopping mid-word. “I don’t want to sit in my room all day, sir. I would much rather be productive.”

  “You have been productive enough for five people, which is why we have arranged for you to go on an outing. Eliza’s cousin has kindly offered to take you on a proper tour of the town.” James waved his hand toward the door, and a man with the reddest hair he had ever seen hesitantly came in but remained on the blurry side of his vision. “Immanuel, may I introduce Adam Fenice, Mrs. Hawthorne’s cousin. Adam, Immanuel Winter.”

  “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Winter. I do hope you are feeling better,” Adam replied with a grin as he proffered his hand to the pale man, who still looked befuddled by the idea of an outing but shook his hand anyway.

  Immanuel stared up at him, taking in his pencil mustache and his impeccably tailored dark blue and cream suit. “Much better, thank you.” He couldn’t shake the feeling he had seen those eyes before. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fenice, but have we met?”

  “Barely, I stopped by one day when you were still in a very grave state, but I did not think you would remember my visit.”

  As the young man stood up to make an excuse about not feeling well and excuse himself, Eliza appeared in the doorway with one of her husband’s old coats, a derby, and a pair of dark gloves. He resigned himself to his fate and silently donned them, but next to the dapper gentleman, he felt like a child wearing his father’s clothes. Immanuel swallowed against the knot in his throat as he followed the stranger out the front door and into the sunny street. At the top of the steps, he hesitated. The man who destroyed him could be anywhere, around any corner, or in any cab. He could pass the house that nearly became his tomb without ever knowing it. That man had blinded him from ever knowing the truth of his confinement, and now, all his nightmares lay just beyond the porch.

  Adam watched the steamer cabs roll past filled with passengers and raised his hand to hail the next free one, but while waiting, he took a better look at his companion as he lingered on the steps. The long cut and bruise that deformed his delicate features were gone, but it left behind a dark rose crack that shifted his brow and lid and stained his eye. The white was still sallow from the bruise, and his once pristine blue iris was now blotted brown on the left side while the other half retained the natural color of its brother. Immanuel’s aurous hair waved and curled around his colorless cheeks, but in their shadows, a little bit of pink flesh began to peek through. His eyes widen as he glanced up and down the road as if searching for someone.

  “Mr. Winter, where would you like to go? We could go to the usual places, like Buckingham Palace or the Tower of London, or we could go to places that suit your interests.”

  He walked down to the curb and stood beside Adam as a cab gradually came to a stop in front of them. “I do not know where to go. I have never been to London before.” He sighed and hung his head. “Mr. Fenice, you do not have to take me anywhere. I do not want you to take time away from your own life just to take me for a walk.”

  “Nonsense, you are no trouble at all. I hope you do not mind, but Eliza told me and my sister about you and what happened. After being that sick, I think you deserve a day of relaxation and leisure.” Sensing the man’s trepidation, he flashed a bright grin and allowed him to go in first. “I think I know the perfect place to start. You can see the palace or Big Ben any day.” As he closed the door, he called to the driver, “To the natural history museum, please.”

  Immanuel stared at the handsome man in the car beside him and frowned thoughtfully. A part of him wanted to be afraid of Adam Fenice, to not trust him, but he had been nothing but k
ind and affable toward him. As Adam turned and noticed his eyes upon him, Immanuel averted his gaze to the steamer’s window but soon realized London was bleary and dark at the edge as it rolled past them. To admire the view, he would have to look at Mr. Fenice.

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Really All Right

  As Adam watched Immanuel’s eyes run over the cases of stuffed birds from Darwin’s adventure in the Galapagos Islands, he finally saw a smile brighten his features. He wasn’t sure if the younger man would enjoy himself after his initial reaction to seeing the natural history museum. At first, he stared up at its nemes-striped bricks and cathedral spires without saying a word as the other visitors bumped past them and entered through the Romanesque, ringed portal that led into the museum. The rain began to patter down when suddenly with a jerk of his head, the spell was broken, and he headed inside. Once within the upturned hull of steel and stone, his companion’s eyes and feet roamed through the parade of skeletons and fossils as if in a trance. The accountant couldn’t be sure if he was miserable or enjoying their trip until that smile appeared.

  “I heard you went to Oxford,” Adam began cautiously as Immanuel moved to the next case. “What branch of science did you study?”

  His voice came as soft as if he was in a library rather than in a nearly empty hall. “I am studying evolution along with the other sciences.” He was about to keep reading the information tag when he spotted the red-haired man looking at him expectantly and realized the conversation was lapsing back into silence. “What do you do, Mr. Fenice?”

  “Nothing as glamorous as science or Oxford. I am an accountant. I also am the co-owner and bookkeeper for my twin sister’s prosthesis and automaton business.” When the German’s eyes flickered with interest, he continued, “I am the odd one out. I have no creative abilities, but I do appreciate the arts. Hadley is the artist and inventor in the family now, but she takes after our father and late-brother. We lost him last winter.”

  Immanuel looked up to see Adam’s countenance dim with the shadow of melancholy. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “He was sick for a long time.” A stifled, dry chuckle escaped his lips as he turned toward another case. “I feel so hardhearted saying this, but it was almost a relief when he died. I hated seeing him ill and knowing he was never going to get any better.”

  “I understand, but you shouldn’t feel guilty. Even when you are the one who is ill, you feel the same way. Death often seems like the better option than suffering.”

  “You would know better than any of us, wouldn’t you, Mr. Winter?”

  They unconsciously caught each other’s gaze, and the unspoken phrases passed between them again. Adam noted the subtle sag of regret at the corner of Immanuel’s eyes as if he had confided too much in the accountant. They fell into silence as they passed specimens and dioramas of beasts in jungles of paint and paper. He watched Immanuel glance at the contents of the cases and move on without the fervent interest that had come with the spark in his smile. As they passed a man with a cigarette pressed between his lips, his companion stumbled.

  Immanuel’s heart raced. Something was wrong. His body buckled as the tobacco embers seared into the thin flesh of his spine. With each quickened breath, the glass in the cases around him seemed to grow closer and the air thinner. He tugged his collar away from the flushed skin of his neck as he swallowed hard.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Fenice, but I cannot stay here any longer,” he blurted, darting toward the nearest hallway.

  The urge to get out was stronger than any instinct he could remember. He would surely suffocate if he couldn’t get out of the museum. The stones would rise up and wall him in, sealing him behind glass for all eternity. Rounding the corner at the end of the hall, he froze as he met the unforgiving mortar and stone of a dead-end. He wheeled around with eyes wide and glistening. When Adam finally reached the corner, the scientist’s breathing was coming in shallow, ragged gasps, and his eyes seemed to take in everything but see nothing.

  “Mr. Winter,” he called as the other man paced in the tunnel with his hands cupped around his face like blinders. Without thinking, he put his hand on the panic-stricken man’s arm, but even though he saw it was him, he whipped it away in alarm. Adam kept his voice as soft and calm as a mesmerist’s. “Immanuel, I will get you out. Just follow me, and I promise we will be outside in a few minutes.”

  He couldn’t remember how long it really took to get back to the throngs of people on the street outside but following the henna-haired head through the transepts and wooden galleries until they reached the nave seemed to drag on for hours. Immanuel drew in one lungful of crisp air after another until the trembling in his limbs subsided. Somehow in the mobs of people bustling to the natural history museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum he could breathe easier than under the great steel roof. Adam stared at him as the color finally ebbed from his cheeks and his light eyes lost the wild edge imparted by fear.

  “Are you all right?” Mr. Fenice asked as he slowly drew closer to keep the crowd from coming between them but made certain not to touch him. “I mean, really all right.”

  He opened his mouth and closed it, glancing back at the lumbering museum that only a minute earlier seemed a tomb. “You must think me mad after that nonsense. I— I lost my head. I am so sorry for causing such a fuss. It won’t happen again, Mr. Fenice.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. Something must have scared you very much.” Immanuel’s damaged eye pinkened as he chewed on the edge his lip with his eyetooth. Adam flashed a magnetic grin that showed off his ivory teeth and waved his gloved hand before changing the subject. “You must stop calling me Mr. Fenice, only the people whose accounts I handle call me that. Please, call me Adam.”

  “Adam,” he began hesitantly, his hands shaking as he tried to stuff them in his coat pockets, “is there anywhere we can go where I can clear my head?”

  “Hyde Park is right up the road if you would like to walk about.”

  Immanuel nodded and ambled beside him, passing through the crowds milling between the museums and gardens of the Royal Horticultural Society. He was happy to have his clear eye facing the road to keep him from stepping off the curb, but as they went on, he had to quickly apologize each time his shoulder collided with those of the men and women passing on his left side. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam caught the sneers and indignant glares, especially when their stares met his cracked cheek.

  “Hold on.” He waited for Immanuel to stop walking and moved to his other side, shielding him from the unsympathetic crowds. “I do not mind being bumped.”

  A faint smile, barely perceivable even to his companion, crossed his lips. He couldn’t see Adam Fenice at his side except for the occasional pop of red or blue, but when he stepped out of line, he felt his arm brush against his without repercussion. Steamers and horse-drawn carriages rolled through the gates of the park and down its cobbled paths out of sight. Immanuel marveled at the massive beasts as their muscles slid beneath their burnished coats. He couldn’t recall when he had ever seen a horse in Berlin, except in statues or when farmers brought their produce or animals to market, but he had never been so close to one. England had been one of the last countries to relinquish the horse from its duties, but they still remained near the parks as a nostalgic reminder of the steam-less past.

  Even though the leaves had decayed and only the bronchial skeletons remained, the park still hummed with life. Vendors peddling roasted chestnuts and drinks to warm passersby from the cold called out while ladies in muffs and fur or wool coats strolled in clusters or on the arm of a husband or brother. A group of young boys sprinted past the dawdling amblers with hockey sticks raised and skates slapping against their shoulders.

  “Can we go ice skating?”

  Adam’s head snapped toward his companion as his mottled eyes followed the raucous children through the trees. “Of course, but are you sure you are up for such an exertion?”

  “No, but I should
like to try.”

  Following the wild shouts of the boys, Immanuel and Adam wound their way through the manicured lawns and around the mercurial waters of the Serpentine until the artificial pond that surrounded the bandstand appeared. Children zipped across the ice as quick as water-striders while men and women glided around the perimeter, merging on and off the ice with ease. Adam smiled at the happy couples laughing arm-in-arm as he left Immanuel sitting on a bench and went to rent two pairs of skates from the stall nearby. When he returned, a pretty young woman with a heart-shaped face and dewy eyes was talking to the German, and while he was polite about giving her the time, he fell silent long enough that she returned to the women she was skating with.

  After wordlessly buckling the blades’ leather straps to their boots, Immanuel and Adam clattered onto the ice. Immanuel teetered unsteadily as his ankles wobbled and his arms pin-wheeled, but he stayed on his feet. With a smile, he pushed away from the edge and drifted into the throng with his friend out of sight but always protectively on the left. Each lap loosened his thoughts and chased away the panic. Soon, the sky grew whiter with each slow circuit around the pond, and by the time they passed the boys playing hockey in the far corner again, the cold seared Immanuel’s face and constricted his ribs. He clopped over to the edge and stood still, hoping his breath would return. His companion followed close behind with the weight of guilt settling in his stomach.

  “Before you ask, I am fine. I just need to catch my breath, but I will join you when you come around again,” Immanuel explained with a raised hand to Adam’s protest. “Plus, I think you would ice skate much better without me slowing you down.”

  With a final sigh, Adam glided back to the whirlpool of skaters. Immanuel stood with his arms crossed as he watched his dapper friend move as fluidly through the crowd as if skating was his natural gate. He tipped his hat to the young ladies he passed, who greeted the handsome stranger with grins and giggles. With snow clumping at the ends of Immanuel’s filigree lashes, he watched Adam Fenice pivot with a flick of his heel. Gliding backwards, he rounded the corner and leisurely wove his way toward the bench. Immanuel stepped back onto the ice to join him when a little rubber disk skidded between them. By the time he saw the flock of children coming, it was too late. The others were caught in the revolving swarm of skaters, but two broke through with their sticks at the ready. One of the boys darted out of the way as Adam approached, but the other stayed to shoot the puck across the ice.