The Time of the Clockmaker

by Anna Caltabiano

  “Um . . . ,” I began, but remembering the countess’s insistence that one should never start a sentence saying “um,” I paused. “Not particularly.”

  “Come now,” Lady Sutton said. “What was so pressing that we had to move our meeting from supper yesterday night to dinner this afternoon? You said something about supper with Lord and Lady Empson?”

  “Yes, just d— supper.” The distinction I had learned that “dinner” was actually what I would think of as lunch and separate from “supper” was still difficult for me to wrap my head around.

  “And I presume that the Countess Grenville was present as well?”

  “Yes,” I said, before adding, “She was, my lady,” to sound a bit more polite.

  “Of course that woman was there . . .” Lady Sutton looked over her shoulder at the view outside. I didn’t know what she saw from the window, but all of a sudden the view seemed to interest her. “And how was supper?”

  “It was excellent—quite lovely.” I smoothed my dress with my palms.

  Lady Sutton turned toward me, raising her thin eyebrows.

  It felt like betraying family to tell Lady Sutton about Lord Empson’s outburst last night, so I decided to keep my mouth shut.

  “And how about you, Lady Sutton?” Richard jumped to my rescue, and I wondered if the expression on my face had made it apparent that I needed saving. “Surely you had a more interesting night than the both of us.”

  “A moment, my lord,” I said. “I told you what I was doing last night, but you never told us what you were doing.” I smiled to make my words sound lighter. I didn’t want to sound accusatory before I knew what I was accusing him of.

  “Ah, nothing too interesting.” But as he said this he looked away from me, flushing.

  I wrung my hands in my lap. I had almost forgotten that I had to be suspicious of everyone. Had he been nearby when I had been attacked?

  Richard’s left cuff on his shirtsleeve had inched up to show a fresh gash that ran along the inside of his wrist.

  “Oh my Go— goodness,” I sputtered. I had almost said something completely blasphemous.

  Following my line of sight, Richard hastily pulled his sleeve down.

  “It’s nothing. A cat,” he was quick to say. “It’s fine really.”

  But I couldn’t erase the image from my mind.

  “Now, Lady Sutton, will you please do us the honor of telling us about your riveting night?”

  Richard’s question seemed to make Lady Sutton happy, as she told us about her night with Sir Gordon and a few men. Richard’s lip twitched, and I knew the countess would have scowled at Lady Sutton’s night with a group of men.

  I tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but I kept thinking of Richard. I didn’t want to think that he had anything to do with the attack on me, but I couldn’t rule anything out either. I pushed the thought out of my mind. Focus.

  “You see,” Lady Sutton was saying, “I was positively embarrassed that they should want, much less ask, me to play cards with them. Imagine that! A lady like me. Gambling with them. Baron Hastings was even in the room!”

  “And did you, Lady Sutton?” Richard had an amused smirk on his face, though I couldn’t tell if it was caused by the story Lady Sutton was telling or Lady Sutton in general.

  “Why, of course not! I am a real lady. Though I did stay and help Lord Grey win a hand.” She winked at us, and whispered, “I told him which cards to play.” With a coy giggle, she rose from her seat. “It appears that our meal is here.”

  Two men in red came in carrying miniature tables, which they set up in front of the bench. One of the men moved a chair closer to the tables, presumably for Lady Sutton.

  “Come now, hurry up and bring the food in.” Lady Sutton waved them along. “I don’t like to hear my guests’ stomachs rumbling. That means I’m not a good hostess.”

  Lady Sutton’s words suddenly reminded me of how hungry I was. Though I had eaten plenty before Lord Empson’s quarrel with the countess last night at supper, my appetite was strangely back. Sitting around and doing practically nothing at court seemed to do wonders for my appetite.

  The same men came back with two plates each, towering with food. As they set them on the table in front of us, I saw that the plates were filled with various tiny morsels, each no bigger than two of my fingers together.

  “The latest from France,” Lady Sutton drawled, as she sat down on the chair that had just been moved for her. “I recently brought in a cook from France. I found him on my last visit to the continent, and he is sublime. I was surprised that the Duke of Lorraine could do without him.”

  I should have known that lunch would be like this—we were silent and Lady Sutton talked at us. All while the food was sitting tantalizingly in front of us, but since our hostess hadn’t reached for her plate, we were subjected to just sitting and watching.

  “Did I tell you that Lady Sanford wanted a French cook? It is a bit unladylike of me but, between friends, I can say that I was actually glad when she took ill before leaving for France,” Lady Sutton was saying. “It is so important to be unique, isn’t it?” Without warning, she took one of my hands. “We are friends now, aren’t we?”

  She didn’t let go till I assured her we were.

  “Richard, on the other hand, has no choice about it.” Lady Sutton cackled, looking at him. “You aren’t tied to me by blood exactly, but you are family.”

  Looking at me, Richard explained, “Lady Sutton is my aunt’s mother by marriage, and also my godmother.”

  I remembered Lord Empson and the countess talking a bit about their relationship.

  “That just means that little Richard here can’t escape me.”

  I swore I saw Richard gulp, and it would have been a funny sight if Lady Sutton hadn’t actually looked menacing. She bared her teeth in a smile, before continuing to prattle on about more irrelevant subjects.

  The rest of lunch went on like that: Lady Sutton would talk endlessly, while I shrank in my seat, bored beyond belief. I would have cursed myself for allowing myself to be dragged into this lunch—or, excuse me, “dinner”—in the first place, if it hadn’t been for Richard.

  Watching Richard and being around him was the most fun I had had in a while. There was something easy about his manner. I didn’t know if I took his cat-scratch explanation as truth, but there was something about him that made me feel normal. For once, this was someone who made me forget everything—immortality, the clock, the killer. Things were easy when I was around him. So when, after escorting me back toward my room, he asked if I’d like to take a walk with him, I said yes.

  “Let me just change for supper before we go,” I said, running ahead of him in the hallway. I knew the countess would want me dressed and prompt, since tonight we were to dine together in her rooms.

  I threw open my door and ran in.

  “Helen!”

  “Yes, my lady?” Helen ran in, red in the face. I felt bad for giving her such a fright, but I knew I had to hurry since Richard was outside waiting.

  “I need a dress for supper.”

  I struggled to throw off the dress I was currently wearing. Helen just stood there, appalled.

  “Quick. Quick!”

  That sent Helen scampering about the room, throwing open chests and digging through skirts. I nodded at everything she showed me. Raising my arms, I tried to help her strap me into various pieces of clothing borrowed from the countess. When Helen was done, I looked, surprisingly, maybe even more pristine than usual—certainly not like someone who had spent the last few minutes running around the room like a headless chicken.

  “Tell the countess that I’ll be back in time for supper!”

  I patted down a loose strand of my hair and shooed Helen out the door. I was about to follow when Henley’s voice stopped me.

  God, Rebecca, sometimes you drive me insane!

  “Sometimes? Don’t you mean all the time?”

  Henley ignored me. You have
a murderer after you, and here you are going to lunches and dinners and having polite conversation with people. You don’t even know who this Richard is anyway.

  On some level I knew Henley was right, but in that moment, I couldn’t admit it. I hated to think of Richard like that. He couldn’t possibly be in league with the killer.

  “Are you jealous?” I said instead. When there was no answer, I smirked. “You have no reason to be jealous. Richard’s just . . . Richard. And Henley, you might not understand this, but this is my way of dealing with the fact that someone wants me dead. For one thing, I need to remind myself that not everyone is like that, that I’m still alive.”

  It’s as if you have no sense of urgency whatsoever.

  “And for another, if you have a killer after you, changing your behavior isn’t going to help. But keeping things apparently normal will. Being around other people is good, because it’s highly unlikely that whoever it is will try to murder me in a room full of people.”

  Are you even trying to get back home?

  I refrained from correcting Henley and telling him that as an immortal I had no home.

  “Have some patience,” I told him. “If I learned anything while in your time period, stealing back Miss Hatfield’s painting, it was to remain undercover and wait for the right moment.”

  I knew that as an immortal, there was a limit to that waiting. Time was slipping away from me.

  Miss Hatfield didn’t tell me much about what would happen if I were to be stuck in a time period for too long, until the uneasy feeling in my stomach grew beyond only being uncomfortable. All she had said was that it would consume me, drive me mad, and I would be nothing else but a vessel for that insanity.

  “I need to learn to do things my way, and blending in is how I do it. Miss Hatfield’s gone, and I’m all I have. Don’t you think it’s high time I start being a little more independent?”

  You also have me.

  I looked down, as if to avoid his eyes.

  You know I’ll always worry about you, Henley said. That came with the territory of falling in love with you.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, woe is you,” I said, finally eliciting a chuckle from Henley.

  If this is woe, and misery is this sweet, I’m sure hell would be a very happy place indeed.

  I shook my head at him, knowing he could see it, and opened the door. Sure enough, Richard was leaning against the wall.

  “I’ve never known a woman to get dressed so quickly.”

  I shrugged.

  “I’ve also never known a woman to talk that much with her maid.” Richard smirked, and a sheepish laugh escaped my lips. I briefly wondered if Richard had overheard me speaking with Henley, but if he had, he didn’t mention it. “Oh, look! You’re not even denying it. You are a different kind of woman.”

  Richard didn’t know how different I was.

  “So where to?” I said, changing the subject.

  “I don’t really know.”

  “What do you mean? Weren’t you the one who asked me to accompany you on a walk?”

  “I didn’t think you’d accept,” Richard said. “It’s not every day a lady allows me to walk with her unchaperoned.”

  “So you ask women every day?” I teased. “And here I thought I was special.”

  I knew walking with a man unchaperoned was frowned upon, and probably something the countess wouldn’t approve of, but I had figured that she didn’t have to know. If we didn’t go anywhere too public, word wouldn’t reach her.

  Richard looked at me intently, making me feel hot all of a sudden. “You know exactly what I think of you.”

  Suddenly, things had gone beyond teasing. I thought of Henley watching this scene, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable. It was all we could do to walk in silence together.

  “The gardens are my favorite place,” Richard said. “At night they’re even more beautiful.”

  “Isn’t it dark, though?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s the point, don’t you see?”

  “Things are prettier in the dark?”

  “There’s no need to see the flowers. They detract from the beauty of the stars,” he said.

  “Now you sound like a tired poet. All fluff and no meaning.”

  “So is that how you see me?” he joked. “Besides, the dark is a nice retreat from the false people at court. They’re always putting on one act or another. Everyone.”

  I couldn’t have guessed that that was how he felt about the people at court. “But you look so at ease.”

  “I’m simply putting on an act myself.”

  We made a turn that led us toward the back of the gardens, where tall hedges arched over us.

  “I didn’t know there was a maze here,” I said.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about court,” Richard said, but he took my hand and led me into the maze without me asking.

  “I’m beginning to see that. Court seems to be its own world.”

  “It has its own rules and ways of living. I’m sure it’s different from the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.”

  I smiled.

  “What’s that mysterious smile for?” Richard asked, but he was wearing a similar grin on his face.

  “I never told you I was from Lithuania.”

  He faltered. “News travels fast. That’s another rule of court.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Is that so?”

  “My lady, you’ve caught me. Maybe I have asked a little bit about you. It’s not like Lady Sutton needs any prompting.”

  I was satisfied with his answer. “No, I like that you’re curious about me. It puts us on even ground.”

  “So it’s safe to say that you’ve asked about me?”

  I shrugged as I tore my hand away from his to walk farther into the maze. “I like to do my research on who I spend time with.” There was a short silence, and I looked back at Richard as he rounded a corner. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just that you seem to be planning to spend time with me.”

  “And do you have a problem with that?” I planted my hands on my hips and tried to look stern.

  “No, oh no! I find you refreshing.”

  I looked at him, skeptical.

  “It’s true. I swear I wouldn’t say it otherwise.”

  “You wouldn’t say it otherwise, but you’re probably saying that to all the women at court.” I meant to say that in a lighter way, but Richard let it sink in.

  He bit his lip, and I couldn’t look away. “How do I make you see yourself—”

  “By holding up a mirror?”

  “You know what I mean. Really see yourself. See yourself the way I see you. You’re not just a pretty face or a beguiling woman. There’s something in you that I’ve never seen before, and it has an effect on me.” He coughed. “If all the people here—the women and men—were stars, you’d be the sun. With you here, I can’t even see anyone else. And yet you’re unapproachable. The same quality that makes you otherworldly makes you distant, alone. You can’t be caught and made of this world. Sometimes I think you’re fundamentally made of other stuff.”

  “Other stuff like what?”

  “I don’t know . . . sunlight.”

  The smile on my face had thinned during Richard’s analysis of me. It had never occurred to me that he had been watching me—and further, trying to understand me—as I had been watching him. He understood a part of me that was impossibly hard to explain to anyone else. He understood that I was alone.

  My pace quickened and I walked farther in front of Richard. When I turned each corner in the maze, I would feel momentarily isolated on an island of my own. Feeling isolated had its own pain, but it seemed manageable compared to facing my insurmountable problems.

  “I bet people don’t try anymore.” I didn’t have to turn to know that Richard had caught up and was right behind me again. “They don’t try to reach you when they realize that you’re distant and no longer in the same place as everyone else.”
/>   I turned to face him, and I willed my lower lip to be still. “I like to be alone. I chose it.”

  “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m not asking for reasons,” Richard said. “I just want you to know that I see through all this. You’re not as isolated as you think.”

  But there were so many things he didn’t know. Sure, Richard didn’t seem like the rest of the people at court. He certainly didn’t sound like them, but it was wrong to think that he was anything more. Richard was them. He was precisely like everyone else. Clueless. Oblivious. And rightfully so.

  My life . . . or existence—whatever this was—didn’t concern him. As he had said, I existed in a completely different place. Unmoved and untouched by the likes of him. Richard couldn’t change anything. No one could. I should know better. Immortality and my life were a destiny I could not escape or unwrite.

  “I need to go,” I whispered.

  I was about to use the excuse that the countess expected me for supper, which was true, but I didn’t need it.

  “You should go,” he said. He turned away from me, and started walking in the opposite direction. He soon rounded a corner, and left me alone between the hedges, leaving me lost again.

  FIFTEEN

  “I’M PLEASED YOU’RE getting along with people here at court.” The countess took a long sip of wine, as if waiting for an answer.

  “Yes, I am. I’m very fortunate that you and Lord Empson have introduced me to so many people.”

  Though the food hadn’t arrived yet, the table already felt too small.

  “Not just so many people. So many powerful people,” the countess corrected me. “Lord Empson”—she swallowed—“is at least making an effort on your behalf.”

  “I guess my father did something right,” I tried to joke, but the countess looked as if she would have none of it.

  “Lord Empson sees you as useful. Imagine if your future marriage was tied to someone he had introduced you to at court. He would be very pleased indeed.”