On the other hand, in all probability, he was not actually my cousin. I don’t know what he might be playing at, but there must be some angle involved I wasn’t currently seeing. Why would anyone pretend to be my family?
I was nobody. I had no money—besides what I had saved from my salary—no property at all. There was absolutely nothing to be gained from such pretense.
Unless Seamus knew something that I didn’t. Could that be possible? Was there something in Ireland that I needed to know about? How did one go about finding out something like that? Perhaps Leonora Conn would know. She was the most traveled person I knew. If there was someone I could speak to on this side of the ocean for answers, she would know about it.
I resolved to seek her advice at my earliest possible convenience. After all, she was looking for a new domicile, and might not be as easily accessed soon.
Now that I had come to these conclusions, I settled back in the seat and closed my eyes. If Alistair wouldn’t talk to me, I would see if I could take a bit of a nap. The last few weeks had been extremely hectic, and I had learned to take advantage of any rest I could get—because one never knew when the next opportunity to do so would present itself.
The sound of the carriage wheels and the clopping of the horse-hooves on the cobblestones were hypnotic. I must have fallen deeply asleep, because the next thing I knew, the carriage was drawing to a halt outside of the boarding house. I blinked, and sat up.
“Well, Jo—shall we head to the warehouse? We could still get a bit of work done today if we hurry,” Alistair said, a hopeful expression on his face.
He was right. I owed him that much.
Oh well, I could speak to Leonora tomorrow. It wasn’t as if she could move overnight.
I smiled at him. “Of course, Alistair. Shall I fetch Fred?”
“With any luck, she’s already at the workshop,” he replied, “but do run check, because I could really use her calculations on the testing.”
I nodded, a little jealous he didn’t think I was enough help—but it was true that I had no head for figures. Of course, there was one figure I didn’t need much arithmetic to come to. Phaeton weighed five hundred pounds. The carriage was incapable of carrying that much weight—especially carrying two or three other people as well.
“Alistair, how will you get Phaeton to the workshop for the tests? He is far too heavy for the carriage.”
“Which is why I must go and arrange a cart. Go and see if Fred has left. I will send Roderick back with the carriage when I arrive at the drayman’s.”
It was such a change to see him take charge of things. Quite invigorating.
I stepped out of the carriage, and it started off again. I went down to Alistair’s old laboratory first, to tell Phaeton to ready himself for the trip out to the warehouse—though he wouldn’t have to hide in a piano box this time.
“Phaeton,” I called, as soon as I had the front door open, “I have something to tell you.”
I heard the door to the storeroom open, and his ponderous steps in the back hallway. When the door to Alistair’s living quarters opened and Phaeton ducked through, I caught my breath at the sight of him. Every time I saw the marvelous mechanical man after some time away from him I was impressed. He was truly a work of art, with his shining brass skin and his delicately molded features.
“Yes, Miss Jo?” he asked with his grave tone.
“Phaeton, Master Alistair has gone to fetch a cart to take you out to the warehouse. Isn’t that exciting? We’ll be able to do those tests he’s been wanting to run. It will be so good to get back to work.”
He nodded his great head. “Yes, Miss Jo, it will indeed.”
“I have to go and check on Miss Fred, then see if Ma has time to pack us a lunch. Alistair shouldn’t be long.”
I patted his arm and hurried back up the steps, mind teeming with plans. There was so much to do, and organize.
Fred had indeed gone out to the warehouse without us. There was plenty of work for her to do on her own inventions.
Ma packed us a lunch basket that would have fed a small army, but helping her gave me something to do until Alistair returned with the cart. As we chatted over the preparations, I mused over the tests we had planned.
It was exhilarating to be getting back to research and invention. It felt like months since we had done any proper work. Helping Alistair was what I had been hired to do, but I hadn’t been doing much of it.
The warehouse was on the outskirts of the city. Originally, it had been the sole province of Herbert Lattimer, Alistair’s younger cousin, but after the incidents in Ohio where we met Fred and lost Herbert’s airship, it was decided that all the inventing could take place in one location and save everyone a great deal of running about.
We had barely begun to move Alistair’s things out of the city, though Fred had claimed her portion of the space and we had already finished her flying machine prototype—thankfully, or William and Nettie’s wedding might have been completely ruined.
I was the luckiest woman alive that Alistair had a forward-thinking attitude about women in the workplace. Otherwise, I might never have been hired as his assistant in the first place—and Fred would definitely not have been accepted as an equal.
When Alistair came back driving the cart—and I wonder how much more it cost to talk the dray company into letting him take it without a driver—we had Phaeton load as much as possible in the cart to take with us. He had sent Roderick home with the carriage from the drayman’s, so we climbed onto the driver’s bench when the cart was loaded and drove out to the warehouse, with Phaeton in the back.
Arriving at the warehouse, I was not pleased to see Seamus talking to Fred in her corner of the warehouse. He seemed to be exhibiting some sort of autonomic creatures to her. As we entered the space, I saw a rabbit, a goat, and a tiny dancer pirouetting across the counter-top. They were quite exquisite, I had to admit.
Was he the creator of the bird that seemed to be shadowing my steps? It made sense. After all, he had been following me himself before making his presence known. Spying seemed to be one of his best skills.
“There ya are!” he cried when he saw us. “Here are tha things I was tellin’ ya about, Perfessor. What do ya think?”
Alistair joined them at the counter, and they were soon deep in discussion of the little creatures and how they had been made. I was curious, but I didn’t want to get any closer to Seamus than necessary.
Still, despite the presence of Seamus, the afternoon was filled with hilarity...and not a great deal of actual work. We were kept quite busy enough arranging and rearranging equipment and supplies. Phaeton proved invaluable in helping us organize everything and move things around. And, I have to admit, Seamus seemed to know his way around a workshop. He made some impressive suggestions as to placement of equipment.
He even found a bit of space for me to have my own little workbench and set of shelves. I was very excited to have a chance to do my own tinkering. I was quite touched to see that Phaeton included the things I had been working with on my personal steam iron project. I spent a bit of time arranging my little drill bits, components, and tools.
I had confided in Fred, and she had given me some tips about how to proceed. I worked on the iron for a bit since we weren’t actually doing any testing.
“What are you working on over here in the corner?” Fred asked after we had been at the warehouse for several hours, taking a break from her own work.
I sighed. “I still can’t get the steam to stay inside the reservoir.”
“Have you tried making a gasket for the opening?”
“What?”
“Let me show you.” She pulled a bit of rubber from her storage bin and proceeded to demonstrate what she had in mind.
With the seal in place, the steam began to build as I had hoped for. “It’s working!”
Fred hugged me. “Good job, Jo! Ma will be so thrilled with this invention.”
The praise felt really go
od. Inventing was so much fun.
~*~
When we began to get hungry again, we all decided to call it a day.
“Phaeton, it is logical for you to remain here for the time being,” Alistair told his marvelous man. “After all, we still have a great deal of testing to do. And there’s a lot of sensitive equipment out here now.”
“Including me precious beauties,” put in Seamus.
“I need you to watch over everything here and protect the workshop,” Alistair reiterated.
Phaeton nodded. “As you wish, Master Alistair.”
We left him alone—something that always bothered me a bit, despite Alistair’s assurances Phaeton wasn’t emotionally invested one way or the other. Still, Phaeton’s silhouette in the doorway as we pulled away into the darkening evening tugged at my heartstrings.
But when the four of us had returned the cart and taken a cab back to the boarding house, I had a bit of a rude awakening. Perhaps because I wanted to, I had totally forgotten about Seamus moving into Ma’s spare bedroom.
Fred and I started up the stairs to freshen up for dinner, and I was startled to see Seamus heading into one of the downstairs rooms. There was nothing I could do about it, so I might as well wash up.
When I descended the stairs a few moments later, I heard gales of laughter pouring from the dining room—evening meals were always more formal than breakfast. Although we had cordial relations with the other members of the household, the hilarity spilling through the halls was unprecedented.
Sure enough, when I entered the dining room, Seamus was holding court from the head of the table. Miss Allison was blushing like a new bride, and Mr. Osborn was leering at her in a most inappropriate way for a man nearing sixty.
Ma was bustling about with a pot of stew, and my mouth began to water at the smell of it. “Come and sit down, Jo, luv,” she called cheerily, “Seamus was just tellin’ us about his home back in County Cork in the Auld Country. Sech a surprise. His village was jest five miles from me brother’s own.” Again, her brogue was spinning up out of control. Most interesting.
“Jo—you’ve reminded me. Perfessor, you had another message this evenin’. In fact, you’d jest missed tha man when ya come home.” She pulled an envelope from her apron, and handed it to Alistair.
He fumbled open the letter. “Well, at least we know their price now,” he drawled, holding it out to me.
The Fergusons were asking for a thousand-dollar settlement.
When Opal awoke the next morning in the comfortable bed Mrs. O’Malley assigned to her the night before, she had a moment of disorientation. She could not remember when and how she had gotten back to her room after meeting the girls, but her head ached abysmally.
The sun was streaming through a circular window above her bed, and she gasped in dismay, leaping from her bed and pulling on her uniform. She glanced at the clock hanging beside the door.
She was late; she should have been at work downstairs an hour ago. What would Mrs. O’Malley say? Late on her first day!
Opal flew down the steps to the kitchen. “I’m so sorry, ma’am…”
Mrs. O’Malley turned from the stove. “Don’t you worry, child. You’re allowed to sleep in now and again.”
She winked. “You just grab that tray and take it along to Mrs. Carrouthers.”
Opal bobbed a curtsy and hurried to obey.
— Garrett Goldthwaite
Old-Fashioned Opal and the House of Ill-Repute
Chapter 6
“Heavens, Alistair! They can’t possibly expect you to pay such a sum!”
“Apparently, they do,” he replied, refolding the letter. “Of course, they do agree to sign court documents absolving Phaeton of any wrongdoing in the matter, so it might be worth it.”
“But, Alistair. Surely you don’t have that sort of funds on hand!”
“Not at the dinner table, Josephine.” He glanced over at Seamus.
He was right. I didn’t trust my so-called cousin, and any discussion of such princely sums would be better conducted outside of his presence.
“Yes, Alistair,” I replied meekly.
“Of course, we wouldn’t need such a sum if you hadn’t felt it necessary to put your foot into things,” he continued, turning his attention to his stew.
“What’s all this, then?” asked Seamus, chin on hand.
“Not at all a fit dinner conversation,” I told him. I thought quickly. “Tell me, Mr. O’Leary, what story were you regaling the house with just now?”
“’Tis a grand tale,” Seamus replied, and off he went on a tale worthy of the English bard himself. It was some grand flight of fancy about a slippery pig contest he had been part of at a county fair. Apparently, Ma’s brother had been in the same contest, and come out the loser—which led to some gentle ribbing from Ma and apologies from Seamus.
The important thing was that the subject neatly turned away from Phaeton’s troubles. And, I must admit, Seamus was a very good story-teller. His description of the contest, with a great deal of self-deprecating humor had us all laughing merrily. He could be very charming when he wanted to be. Of course, he kept peppering his story with “me girls” and “darlin’s” until I wanted to strangle him. I couldn’t allow myself to drawn into his machinations, no matter how charming he might be—Alistair was the one I wanted.
As soon as dinner was over, I rose from my chair. “Alistair. I would like an evening constitutional to help my food settle. Would you care to join me?” I patted my stomach.
“I don’t think so. It’s been a long day.”
I was taken aback. He had never refused me anything before…
“Please, I would feel better having an escort.” I lowered my lashes.
“I could come wit’ ya, darlin’.” Seamus flashed me a smile.
I tugged on Alistair’s sleeve, and he rose from his chair. His eyes glittered dangerously, and I suspected a heated lecture on my behavior would be the price for his compliance, but at least he stood. “All right, Josephine. I will come with you. We have a great deal to discuss.”
Once we were out of the house, I turned to my employer. Better to stave things off at the onset—and he did deserve an apology. I had been treating him like a puppy as well.
“I’m very sorry, Alistair, I’ve been treating you most unfairly. I should have realized discussion of your finances in Sea—Mr. O’Leary’s—presence wasn’t a good idea. The sum took me by surprise, is all. And I haven’t listened to you as I should. Mr. O’Leary has me all in a dither.”
“Well, I’m glad to see that you have sense enough not to fall for his blather. Now, what should we do about this settlement?”
“I think a visit to your mother is in order. Leonora has a cool head on her shoulders, and—besides—you may need some funds to help cover the Fergusons’ request.”
“Oh, no! No matter what happens, I am not borrowing money from my mother to sort this mess! Phaeton is my responsibility, and she’ll have nothing to do with the lawsuit.”
“Whatever you say, Alistair,” I murmured demurely, resolved to speak to Leonora in private if it came to it.
We crossed the street to Aunt Emily’s home. It was technically later than strictly proper for a social call, but they were used to us popping in at all hours.
In fact, when Alistair knocked on the door, Vanessa opened it with a sigh. “I had a feeling we might be seeing you tonight, Master Alistair, Miss Jo. Roderick told us about the gentleman staying across the street. Miz Emily and Miz Leonora have been talking of nothing else since yesterday morning. Come in. I’ll bring refreshments to the dining room.”
“We just had dinner, Vanessa—don’t trouble yourself,” he protested.
I could see the disappointment on her face—serving the refreshments would be her excuse to be present for the conversation. She might be the maid-of-all-work, but she was also a friend. It would be a kindness I could easily give her.
“Perhaps just some tea, Vanessa,” I amende
d. “I’m feeling a trifle parched.”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes, miss. I’ll take care of that right away—as soon as I announce you.”
Alistair frowned as we followed her through the house. “What are you thinking, Josephine?” he whispered. “I’m absolutely stuffed from dinner.”
“Honestly, Alistair,” I replied in kind. “You need to learn to pay attention. Vanessa obviously wanted to be part of the discussion, and, as a servant—no matter how well-treated she is—she wouldn’t have a logical reason to be present if she isn’t serving—it saves face all around.”
I could see the light dawn in his eyes. “Oh, I see what you mean...”
I hid a smile. Apparently, I was forgiven…at least for now.
As soon as we settled ourselves in the dining room, Leonora Conn sailed into the chamber in a cloud of satin and excitement. “Josephine! How lovely to see you. And Alistair, my boy—have you put on weight?”
“Not since Saturday, Mother,” he replied dryly, submitting to her embrace with a roll of his eyes. At least he was beginning to hug her back.
“Sit! Sit.” Leonora sat herself down, waving us back into the seats we had vacated at her arrival. “Vanessa will be here with the tea momentarily. Emily is on her way downstairs.”
“We’ve come for some advice, Mother,” he told her.
“Wait for the others, dear. You don’t want to have to repeat yourself.”
“True.”
“Oh, Jo, dear. I have a present for you,” she said, beaming me a smile. “I ordered some toiletries from Paris, and they’ve recently arrived. I thought I would like this scent, but it’s a bit...young for me. It’s perfect for you, however.” She pulled a tiny phial from a pocket of her gown and pushed it across the table to me.
It was a lovely little glass bottle wrapped in silver filigree. The stopper had a blue stone on it. I wondered what the stone might be.
“It’s beautiful, Leonora.” I worked loose the stopper and sniffed. The fragrance was light and flowery, with a hint of citrus. I dabbed a little on my wrist and sniffed again. “I love it!”
The Incredibly Irritating Irishman: Book Three of the Conn-Mann Chronicles Page 4