I took a second step back and felt Will’s hand, strong and reassuring on my shoulder. The golden man opened his mouth and began to sing.
The notes of grandfather’s song rang out, sung by a voice eerily similar to my Papa’s, but it wasn’t the melody. It was as if the clockwork man sang a second part, similar, but not the same. At first it confused me. I started to hum, following the rhythm. To my amazement, the notes blended seamlessly.
It was the harmony.
I joined him, singing the melody as loudly and clearly as I could. Our voices merged, ringing through the hall until the cords holding the stairs resonated, adding a peculiar harmonic to our song. I felt as if I were singing with Papa. My emotion swelled and nearly choked me, but I continued to sing.
As the notes soared through the room, the fingers of the clockwork man’s hands slowly opened. Will took the first plate, then the second.
The automaton smiled, then his eyes closed and his head drooped down to his chest once more. I marveled at the wonder of the mechanical man, feeling a sense of loss now that I could only hear the echo of his voice in the chamber.
“Come on, Meg,” Will urged.
I hesitated, not wanting to leave the amazing clockwork man in the dark.
“Meg.” Will’s voice dropped and I knew I had to leave. He was right. I shouldn’t endanger him by lingering. I pressed a kiss to my fingertips and touched the clockwork man’s flower medallion then dashed after Will up the hanging stairs.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HALFWAY UP THE STAIRS, THE LIGHT DIMMED. I FELT A tremble in the strands holding the stairs aloft. Will’s foot slipped, and he gripped the thick cords as the whole stair swayed ominously.
“Hurry!” I clambered up behind him. The stairs shook, then slowly began to rise. I clung to the spindles, praying I wouldn’t fall to my death. I tried not to look down as we struggled toward the circle of sky above us.
We burst from the stair and tumbled across the grass.
“Hold on,” I warned as Will threw an arm over my back and ducked his head. The lenses retreated back into the iron beams, then the tops of the metal arches rose up once more into towering pillars.
The ground shook with violent force as the pillars receded back under the hill. The patches of earth and grass replaced themselves, and the stone altar rose back out of the ground.
All fell quiet again, though I could have sworn the ground continued to move. Realizing it was the trembling of my own body, I lifted my head and looked around. Except for the rumpled-looking grasses, there was no sign that the great iron arches had ever existed.
Will offered me a hand. His expression held no lingering anger, but I couldn’t believe he had either forgiven or forgotten the harsh criticism he had inflicted upon me.
I placed my hand in his and he steadied me until I found my feet. The sensation of the ground moving only intensified. His gaze drifted over me, dark and mysterious as it had always been. I didn’t like being on unsteady ground.
I walked away from him and picked the plates up from where he had left them in the grass, then I carried them back down the hill without a word. I reached the coach to find Lucinda sitting on the floor, swimming in a pile of tumblers.
She glanced at the plates in my hands. “What did you find?”
“They look like they might be parts of the lock Simon mentioned in his letter,” I said as I handed them to her.
“I never dealt closely with locks,” she said. “I wish there were someone who could tell us more.”
“What are all these?” I asked as I tried to find room for my toes amidst the tumblers.
“His Grace recorded tumblers for all the recent Amusements. I found them under the bench.”
I gathered a few of the bumpy cylinders and inspected them. On one side would be various estates throughout the countryside, but the other side had been marked the same on each tumbler.
Chadwick Hall.
“What is Chadwick Hall?” I asked as Will climbed up on the footboard.
“It’s His Grace’s country estate.” Lucinda seemed concerned. “I was hoping there’d be one that could take us back to London.”
Without a regular carriage of any sort, we’d either have to drive the coach to London ourselves, or trust our feet. Considering we were miles from the nearest habitable shack, I felt inclined to stay near the coach.
“If we head southeast we’ll find London.” Will pushed past me into the coach and took a seat on the driver’s stool. “Or we can turn the original tumbler back around.”
“But we can’t exactly tour the streets of London in this,” I reminded him with a wave of my hand. “Whoever intends to murder me might find it conspicuous.”
Will crossed his arms and scowled. “What do you suggest then?”
“Is the duke trustworthy?” I asked, helping Lucinda onto the bench. I lifted her injured ankle onto the velvet and took a seat on the floor beside her. “He had to be in on the conspiracy to hide the pieces of the lock, or he wouldn’t have hidden his coach.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know whom to trust. I haven’t heard anything about the duke since Simon’s death. He might be in hiding like the others, but even if the hall is abandoned, I know a way in.” She sat straighter.
I looked through the tumblers until I found the one marked for Gearhenge and Chadwick Hall. I held it out to Will, but he seemed skeptical.
“Once we are at Chadwick Hall, the tumblers will be able to take us anywhere we need to go.” I don’t know why I felt I had to justify the decision to call upon the duke, but I needed him to know I was thinking this through and not acting rashly.
“We haven’t been traveling quickly. We could have been easily followed,” he reminded me. “Especially if the farmer we passed starts telling stories.”
“It’s a risk we’ll have to take,” I said. I felt a creeping apprehension grip my neck and shoulders. “There’s no other way.”
Will looked me deeply in the eye, then at the tumbler.
“How convenient. I suppose it’s decided then.” Will didn’t bother to hide the edge of bitterness in his voice as he held out his hand. I placed the tumbler in it. He took a moment to examine it carefully before fitting the cylinder in the controls and lowering the arm.
He wound the coach, then started us off again. Relief poured through me as we rumbled along, the motion soothing after the turmoil of the afternoon. I didn’t know what to do about Will, or how to regain his trust. I found myself wondering if I had ever earned it to begin with.
“Tell me all about the Amusement,” Lucinda whispered, pulling me away from my darker thoughts. In the fading light she examined one of the plates we had retrieved. “Was it amazing?”
I told her about the crystals and the stair, the lights shining in the center of the hill and the clockwork man we had found there. She hung on every word.
“I wish I could have seen it.” Lucinda sighed, looking out the window at the hills as if any one of them could be hiding a cavern of stars. “It must have been breathtaking.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “It was.”
She drew her lips into a thin line as she watched the sun splash color over the clouds in the west.
The light died, and Will lit a lamp in the corner. The firelight caught in his dark hair and made his slightly tanned skin glow. He nodded to Lucinda, then caught me staring. Embarrassed, I focused on my dirty and torn fingernails as he took his seat.
My unease returned. “I didn’t mean for you to be hurt,” I said without looking up at Lucinda. I didn’t want to see the terrible inequality between us. Lucinda was my better in every way. I couldn’t help how I felt about her and Will, but I did feel sorry that she had been injured.
Lucinda smiled and placed a hand on my arm, the clean edges of her nails glowing like tiny moons. “I know. Someday we can come here again, and you can show me the chamber beneath the hill. We can bring a picnic.”
“And wax for our ears,”
I added, reminding myself that she had only ever offered me kindness and that I should return it.
Lucinda laughed, then her expression became very serious. “Thank you, Meg.”
Her words surprised me since I had done nothing to deserve them. “You’re thanking me for injuring your ankle, destroying your carriage, and ruining your dress?” If she had any idea of the ugly thoughts in my mind, she would curse me for a year.
She offered me a wistful smile that seemed to show more in her eyes than on her lips. “Thank you for finding me. I think about Simon and our . . .” She paused, her voice catching. “Our life together, every minute of every day. I still have not stopped thinking about him, but today what I thought more than anything was that he would have loved this. It has made me remember him fondly.”
I squeezed her hand then let my head rest against the wall of the coach. In that moment, I wanted Lucinda as a friend. I had to find a way to push my jealousy aside. Exhausted, I drifted off, my dreams filled with swirling speckles of light and a man made of shining brass.
• • •
“Meg, wake up.”
My shoulder shook and my eyes snapped open. Will’s coat covered my chest and lap, while Lucinda slept curled on her side on the velvet bench like a princess from a fairy tale.
“What’s going on?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My hands lingered on the coat as I pulled it off me. The cold night air rushed in, and I suddenly wished to burrow under the warmth of the coat and remain there all night. The dim light of the small lamp in the coach cast the world beyond the windows in inky black.
“We’ve stopped.” Will pulled a knife from his boot. Light flickered along the blade.
“Heaven’s mercy, what do you intend to do with that?” I scooted back against the side of the coach.
“There’re no lights. I don’t think anyone’s here, but we have to be careful.” He took the pistol out as well, considered it against the knife, and returned his knife to his boot. Will opened the door and stepped down onto the footboard.
I was beginning to think perhaps Will was a bit too careful. It was one thing to be prepared, but such a show of force might not endear us to the duke. Still, I shrugged off his coat and climbed out of the coach.
My body ached, especially my back and legs. I had to fight the urge to hunch. My boot hit groomed stone. We were on some sort of drive. If only the moon were a bit fuller. We needed the light. The lamp inside the coach was fixed to the wall, and it did little to help us outside.
I could see the shadows of trees and a large building just ahead of us, but it didn’t hold a candle to the monstrosity looming to the left. An enormous estate that reeked of generations of wealth and entitlement squatted like a fat old king on the throne of the rise.
We must have been near the stables, which were impressive enough. Five or six storefronts from Oxford Street could have fit across the length of them.
Good gracious, I’d never seen such wealth.
“How could an estate like this be empty?” I muttered, following Will toward the stables. It didn’t seem possible. A house that size required the effort of hundreds to maintain it.
“That’s what I’m worried about.” Will held his pistol at the ready. “There has to be a caretaker.”
Our boots crunched as we walked in silence. Everything seemed so still.
A shot rang out. I screamed, falling to the ground, as Will crouched in front of me. How had the murderer reached this place before us?
“Whoever’s out there,” a man’s voice rang out, “it would be in your best interest to abandon any thought of looting the house. It might be a bit harmful for your health.” I stared at a floating light coming toward us.
Will pushed his arm in front of me, perhaps under the assumption his limb could protect me from the man strolling up the path looking as if he were ready to engage in a duel and knew he would win.
I held on to Will’s shoulder, peeking over his arm as the man ambled closer. He had wild hair that stuck out at odd angles in a short shaggy mop above his impressive sideburns. Over his eyes he wore a pair of glowing goggles, even as he carried an impossibly long rifle that sprouted tubes and gears along one side.
Dressed in a long brown coat that ended at the tops of his buckled boots, and a shirt open at the collar, he seemed from another world entirely.
Placing the stock of the rifle on the ground, he cocked his head and gave us a lopsided grin. Only then did I realize he couldn’t have been much older than us.
“So, should I kill you, or not?”
“I’d prefer not,” I stated, rising to stand. He was an Amusementist. He had to be. “We’re friends of Lucinda Pricket. She’s hurt. We need a place to rest. We had no place else to turn.”
“Lucinda?” Her name fell from his lips like a prayer. He fumbled the gun and it accidentally went off in a shower of red sparks. He winced. “Where is she?”
“In the coach.” I pointed behind us, and while I couldn’t see the man’s eyes, his posture went rigid, as if he’d just seen a ghost.
He ran toward it, and I moved to follow. Will grabbed my arm. “What are you for?” he scolded. “He could be the murderer.”
“Does he look like a murderer to you?” I yanked my arm from him and hurried toward the coach. Will fell into step beside me.
“He has a gun.” Will lengthened his stride.
“So do you,” I reminded him.
I beat Will to the coach door, only to see the man kneeling beside Lucinda. He had her hand in his as she woke.
“Oliver?” she whispered. A smile played at her lips, but her expression appeared sad somehow. “What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same thing, Luli.” His touch slid along her arm until he drew both her delicate hands into his.
She looked away, her eyes darting toward me, the light, anything but him. “I thought you were in America.” She pulled her hands from his and straightened her skirt.
“I’ve returned.” Oliver leaned back. “Who are your friends?”
Lucinda glanced at me. “Miss Whitlock, allow me to introduce you to the Marquess of Brairton.”
I took a step back. “My lord.” I bowed my head, but he folded me in a sudden embrace. Startled, I didn’t know how to respond, other than to push against the soft leather of his coat.
“My God!” he exclaimed, holding me at arm’s length. “Sweet little Margaret? I thought you were dead. Thank the dear Lord you survived.” He patted me on the shoulders. “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby, and I was a scruffy little tramp with skinned knees. You’ve grown quite well.”
“I go by Meg, my lord,” I clarified, stepping back from him as Will moved closer behind me. “This is William MacDonald.”
“Are you one of Argus’s boys from the Foundry?” he asked, genuinely pleased.
“No,” Will answered with a puzzled look. “I’m just a tinker.”
“He’s a friend, Lord Brairton.” The moment I said it, I felt my heart swell. Somehow whatever was between us, it felt more than simple friendship. He had saved my life not once but twice. A tingle shivered up my exposed calves.
“Unfortunately, it’s Duke of Chadwick now. But please, call me Oliver. If I hear anyone say ‘Your Grace,’ I can’t be held accountable for my actions.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up further. Only the glowing goggles perched high on his forehead kept it at bay.
Lucinda leaned forward. “You’ve inherited? What happened to your father?” There was no mistaking the shock in her face.
“It’s too much to explain here.” His rich voice dropped. “Come. We have much to discuss inside.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I HADN’T SEEN VERY MANY DUKES, BUT I FELT CERTAIN the majority of the House of Lords did not look like this one.
“Where were you injured?” he asked Lucinda, lifting his hand as if he were about to place it to the side of her face. He paused, then let his fingers fall away from so in
timate a caress.
She gave her head a little shake. “Really, I took a silly tumble down a hill and turned my ankle. I’m quite fine.”
Lucinda stood to prove she was sound. At the same moment Will put his weight on the footboard and the coach shifted. Lucinda winced. Her ankle gave, and she fell, right into the duke’s arms.
“I see you’re still stubborn.” Without another word, he handed his gun to Will and swept Lucinda off her feet. She squealed and clung to his neck.
“Oliver! Put me down this instant.” She hit him on the shoulder with enough force that he had to catch his balance. He glanced over at me and raised one eyebrow in question.
“We were at Gearhenge,” I confessed. “We didn’t anticipate the way the hill would shake.”
“You raised that thing?” His voice pitched with awe as he edged to the door. Will and I moved to let the duke pass. “I thought Charles had locked it.”
I followed the duke as Will guided the coach into the stable. Using my longest strides, I almost had to break into a run to keep up with him. “I had a key.”
The duke stopped cold and turned to me. Lucinda brushed a wayward lock of hair off her forehead and wriggled. He didn’t let her down. “A key, or the key?” he asked, as if the world hung on my answer.
Doubt flashed through my mind. Could I trust this duke? There was something about him, something open and guileless. It was very likely unwise to trust him, but in my heart, I knew it was the right thing to do.
“It’s my grandfather’s.”
He visibly paled. “Then you’re in grave danger.”
Well, that much I knew. Will pulled the stable doors closed with a deep boom, and then jogged to my side. Together we followed the duke through a slightly overgrown formal garden, past a neat white kitchen gate, and down a set of servant’s stairs in the back.
A low smoldering fire and single candle cast the majority of the enormous kitchen in shadow. Only the tiny glowing circle of light on a large but empty table welcomed us into the grand mansion.
Legacy of the Clockwork Key Page 12