by L G Rollins
Though Nathaniel knew she didn’t think highly of the man, apparently his title was far too lofty to ignore. “But of course,” she said politely. Together they left the room and Nathaniel felt like he could breathe once more. Gads, when had his home turned upside down so?
Standing between Melissa and his mother was not a chore he had anticipated upon returning from sea, yet it was one he had found necessary to execute multiple times a day.
Nathaniel stood, picked up Melissa, and placed her on his desk chair. “Stay here while I speak with Doctor Sterling.”
“Does that mean I can come?” She looked up at him with large eyes.
“Do as I said,” he reaffirmed. “Stay here.”
Doctor Sterling stood and followed him as he moved out of his book room and into the hallway. Unfortunately, the tension at being harangued by his mother and emphatically pulled on by his daughter also followed. The high ceiling and sparsely filled space—there were only a couple tables with elegant vases and flowers—did nothing to ease the pressure which seemed to weigh against his chest. Nathaniel rested one shoulder against a wall, fighting the urge to unbutton the top of his skirt. What he wouldn’t give for a quiet, uninterrupted evening.
“Are you sure you don’t want to accept my offer?” Doctor Sterling’s voice was less formal, less up-tight than before. “It may be your last opportunity to escape with your sanity?”
He opened his eyes to find the doctor smiling softly.
She was certainly beautiful when she smiled, small though it was. He dropped his voice low, conspiratorially. “Tempting. Very tempting.” What must she think of him? His household was clearly on the verge of utter pandemonium. “I apologize for Melissa’s antics. Her governess informs me that she is well ahead of her years in all the subjects: reading, science, art. However, she has an active imagination that refuses to be tamed.”
Surprisingly, the doctor only shrugged. “I did not think to check the door either. I am every bit as much to blame as you. Perhaps more.”
Well, she took that rather well. After she had been so hesitant to even tell him the details regarding her proposed venture, he was certain she would be furious to find Melissa had overheard. Doctor Sterling was no only inventive, but also level-headed it would seem. Both he and his daughter could certainly use some level-headed influence just now.
“Just how safe will this experiment be?” he asked. “For the test subjects as well as my crew?”
“Completely safe.” Her response was immediate and certain. “The test subjects will be locked in separate jail cells each night of the full moon. The only dangers will be those inherent in sailing thousands of kilometers under the ocean waves in a large machine.” A pause. “We could make a difference, you know.” Her eyes were that rich brown he had so wanted to see again, sincerity having brought out a golden hue. “We could show everyone that werewolves aren’t the monsters so many think they are.”
“I know. But I can’t leave my daughter.” A soft click-click-click came from the library. Gears above, what was Melissa into now?
“Her future will be safer if I can find a way to prevent werewolves from shifting.”
“Prejudices against werewolves poses a greater peril in her future than being physically attacked, I fear.”
“Nothing quells prejudices like a healthy dose of understanding, and my scientific research can provide society with just that.”
Nathaniel leaned toward her. “Can you promise me that this experiment is completely safe? Can you guarantee there will never be even the chance of a werewolf, in wolf form, wandering through the halls of my submarine?”
“Yes, we all will be completely safe.” Doctor Sterling did not back away at his intensity. Nathaniel quite liked that about her; she was a woman who always stood her ground.
“Alright then,” he said. “I’ll take you and your test subjects.”
Surprise registered across her face in the form of a brief blink as she rocked back slightly. If he hadn’t been watching her closely, he might have assumed she felt nothing at all over his sudden acquiescence.
“Thank you, sir.” Her gaze jumped to the library door. “What of your daughter?”
“You said the experiment would be safe for all. I’ll bring her with me. I think the experience will change her view on the world in a way that is both beneficial and educational.”
This could very well prove the exact solution he’d been struggling to find. He would be near Melissa to help guide her away from some of her more dangerous and rash inclinations, while she would be able to grow her imagination and learn more of people and places. Doctor Sterling lay a hand lightly on his arm.
“I think that sounds fabulous,” she said.
The sudden touch brought with it a tingling sensation that rushed over him, just as it had moments ago in his book room. Rowley’s guess had landed true—Nathaniel was as intrigued, if not more so, by the doctor than by her experiment.
Nathaniel took hold of her fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze back. The thought of being in close confines with such a woman as her nearly stripped him of words, as all other thoughts were replaced by a rush of anticipation.
“Well then, I suppose I should ask—where is the best place to purchase a pair of girl’s breeches?”
“hat the blazes is the sun doing up this early?” William yanked on the curtains, forcing them over the small carriage windows.
Elise sighed and only barely refrained from grabbing the curtains and wrenching them back open. She loved the morning sun. Every dawn, the sunlight was like a welcoming hug, promising a bright future and limitless discoveries.
Though, now that William had insisted on traveling with her to the docks, not only did she not get to enjoy the sunlight her last morning on land, she also wasn’t going to be able to enjoy any pleasant company either.
Last morning on land. Elise’s hand pressed against her stomach. Gracious, was she really doing this? Were they, werewolves and crew, all truly going to lock themselves together in a glorified tin can and sink themselves well below the surface? Deep below, if things should go wrong they’d be unable to access help, or even air truth be told.
“Captain Hopkins is nothing but a nabob. An upstart. What kind of man brings his daughter along on an scientific experiment, anyway?”
Elise resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. Did William have to be quite so doubtful this morning? His negative opinions would not help anyone. He’d been quite vocal about his concerns ever since learning the deal was struck. But this was the morning they would set sail, and his constant stream of vitriol was beginning to rankle.
“I believed you wanted to be here,” Elise said. It wasn’t as if she’d begged him to come, quite the opposite in fact. He’d begged her. The least he could do, when she was in the middle of fighting her own uncertainties, was to speak positive and give her a little hope that she wasn’t ending her career at this very moment.
William only grumbled under his breath and, looking out a crack in the curtains, scowled at those gathering around the docks. “I am not sharing a bedchamber with one of them.”
Of a truth? That’s what he was upset about? The Gearhound was large for a submarine, but there were nearly a dozen test subjects in addition to the crew.
“Everyone will be forced to share quarters,” she responded.
“Even you?”
“Of course. I intend to let Captain Hopkins know that I can share with Pearl.” If she had known what kind of a mood William was going to be in this morning, she would have insisted Lord Chauncey share this carriage ride with them. William tended to hold his tongue a bit more when the marquess was around. Unfortunately, when Lord Chauncey’s letter had arrived the day before stating he had much to ready before departure and that he would met her at the docks, Elise had not the foresight to request he ride with her at the very least and save her from William’s non-stop criticism.
The carriage rolled to a stop and William shoved the door open
. Stepping out, he shielded his eyes with a hand, despite wearing a top hat, and swore at the sunlight.
“You didn’t get foxed last night, did you?” Elise tried to keep her voice innocent sounding. But she couldn’t seem to quite manage it, and a hint of her mocking slipped through.
William glared at her.
Well, the headache served him right. He knew he’d have to be up at this time in the morning. If he hadn’t wanted to feel miserable, he shouldn’t have drunk himself into a stupor last night. Elise waited at the door for William to extend his hand. But he didn’t. So, Elise alighted by herself.
It certainly wasn’t as though she needed his hand to get out of the carriage. She got in and out plenty of times on her own. But, William’s refusal was a blatant slur against her, a clear and undeniable insult.
Very well then, if he was going to behave like a cad, then she would give him a wide berth. She was nervous enough about today, she didn’t need him around to point out all her flaws and repeatedly state her insignificance. Elise strode down the walk, out striding William quickly, and down to the docks.
Seagulls soared above Elise’s head, their cries echoing off the nearby clock tower. They roosted on wooden shingles of the buildings lining the harbor, and then were off once more. Some heading out to compare their fine feathers with the airships raising slowing up into the pale sky. Others swooped out toward the wide ocean, past the cobblestone roads overflowing with parasols and top hats, past the ships with mechanical masts and clockwork cannons, past the Gearhound.
Elise was impressed. She’d heard the Gearhound was bigger than average, but she looked positively massive. Perhaps it was because the submarine was raised above the water that she looked so large. Tall wooden scaffolding rested atop two long gangplanks, flanking either side of the submarine. They towered far higher than any of the shops and buildings around Elise, and from them thick chains held the Gearhound up and out of the water.
The further she stood from William the more his blue-devilment lost it’s power to fill her with doubt. She took a deep breath—this was the right course to take. This would prove to the committee that she was committed to finding solutions, no matter the time or effort.
Men and women, sitting atop thin wooden boards, dangled down the side of the submarine. Several meters above the crashing waves, they washed, scrubbed, and polished. They all wore navy blue and cream-colored uniforms with bronze vests. Probably the crew.
They gave Elise no clue as to where Captain Hopkins began his career, for they sported a variety of hair colors and even more skin tones. Red curls and chestnut beards worked side by side with those who had yellow faces, olive tones, and chocolate skin. It seemed, the captain had pieced together his crew from all the four corners of the earth.
And the Gearhound herself—Elise strode down the gangplank and then stopped—she was absolutely stunning. Black with golden rivets ribbing the sides. An iron framed window at the nose. Several massive propellers in the back. What must fish think when first encountering such a machine? She’d talked to many of her connections down at the harbor since first hearing about Captain Hopkins and his submarine, and they all had nothing but wondrous things to say about the Gearhound. Elise stared up at the gleaming machine and agreed with them all.
Elise neared the railing which ran horizontal to the submarine and looked up. She was almost directly below the immense machine. Well above her head, members of the crew called to one another merrily, while others whistled songs to pass the time.
Along the belly of the submarine was an addition she’d never seen on any submarine thus far. It was a small room, made entirely of glass. The iron framework was like a spider’s web—crossing and tangling and reaching in every direction. It left the glass panes a variety of trapezoidal shapes.
The morning sun hit the room, warming it with an auburn glow. Then, the light rose to just the right angle, and dozens of small rainbows skittered across the harbor plank, enveloping Elise in color.
Swirling in a silent dance, reds, yellows, and purples blended and held each other. They morphed into greens, oranges, and deep blues, until Elise could almost hear the sensual siren of mystical creatures long lost to earth.
The sun rose yet further, and the brilliant hues vanished.
Salty spray kissed her arms, bringing with it the invigorating smell of the open sea. Elise pulled a deep breath into her lungs, hearing once more the cry of birds and whistled songs of the crew.
“Devil take it,” William muttered.
Elise let out a small breath; and William was back to his usual charming self. She’d hoped when she stomped off and left him by the carriage he might pick up the hint that she didn’t care to hear him curse everything he saw. Apparently, a little support and optimism was too much to ask of her childhood friend this morning.
“Why is the submarine all the way up there?” William’s voice carried over the sound of waves and crewmembers working, several of whom turned and looked down at him.
Elise placed her fingertips against her temple. Why again had she agreed to let William come? Maybe she and all her test subjects could slip aboard the Gearhound, slam the hatch closed, and sail off before William had time to finish swearing at the fish and climb aboard as well.
“Doctor Sterling?”
Elise turned to see a tall man with a thin nose, dressed as in the same blue and copper as the other crewmembers, though his uniform was slightly different. He wore a more formal looking jacket and his pants were cut from a finer material and pressed.
“I am Commander Samuel Rowley. I am imminently pleased to meet you.” He took her offered hand and bowed over it with quite the flourish. His tone carried a French accent, which put to mind Addie’s profuse farewell of the night before.
“The pleasure is all mine, Commander Rowley. Captain Hopkins has spoke quite highly of you.” Beside her William gave an unmistakable pshaw, but she chose to ignore him.
“Just Rowley, please. And was the Cap’n truly bragging ‘bout me? Why, he’s liable to put me to the blush.” His tone was lighthearted, but in no way foppish nor insincere.
Elise quickly introduced him to William, who refused to shake hands and only grumbled a bit more. However, the more William grumbled the wider Rowley’s smile grew. So he wasn’t one to bend under another’s blue-devilment then? Elise liked him all the better for it. It seemed Rowley was going to be an ally, perhaps even a friend.
He extended an elbow to her. “If you would be so kind, Cap’n has asked that I welcome you and your test subjects aboard and give you all a tour.”
A groan of metal straining against metal punctuated the air, growing louder until they could no longer speak over the noise. Elise turned back to the submarine. No crewmembers hung against the sides. They must have climbed back up and in while she spoke with Rowley.
Inch by gear-grinding inch, the Gearhound lowered gently back into the ocean. The large body created waves as it sunk halfway below the surface and the gangplank beneath Elise’s Hessian boots swayed.
The time had come. She would board the Gearhound and leave England with nearly a dozen werewolves. Her heart thumped against her throat. She felt wholly unready for this endeavor. She would have much preferred months to prepare. Not only to ready crewmembers, test subjects, and possible sister experiments to perform in tandem with the main one, but to also prepare herself emotionally for this huge undertaking.
Elise dropped her shoulders and raised her chin slightly. She’d never let her discomfort with the unknown to stop her before. She wouldn’t let it now.
William leaned in close, whispering low. “They’re here.”
Elise glanced sidelong over her shoulder. Sure enough, a few men stood by the corner of a wooden building just up the way. Another couple eyed the submarine from where they lingered, looking to all the world like homeless beggars searching the shore for beneficial flotsam. Then again, there was a good chance they were searching the shore for washed-up goods. Other than Will
iam, none of the werewolves she worked with came from well-to-do families.
She nodded toward Rowley. “We best get on board as soon as possible.” She didn’t want any of her test subjects getting cold feet at this point and walking off. They were a skittish bunch on the whole, and having one or all of them suddenly change their mind and take off now was not outside the realm of probability.
Rowley, smile nearly big enough to split his face in two, reached over his shoulder and waved for the scattered test subjects to follow. They approached, eyes looking about and jaws tightly shut. Elise felt sorry for them—her own apprehension was nothing compared to theirs, it would seem.
While this could spell the end of her career, this could also spell the end of any of their lives. Suppose they returned to England and one of the crew decided to talk? English laws were clear—anyone could take the life of a known werewolf and not face any consequences.
Following Rowley across the gangplank, Elise sent up another silent prayer of gratitude that so many of her test subjects had bravely agreed to this experiment. Rowley was soon guiding her over a wooden plank, far above the ocean waves, and through the hatch at the top of the submarine’s turret.
Elise climbed, hand over hand, down the cold, metal ladder and into the Gearhound.
Anxious excitement bubbled inside her. Within the submarine, Elise could no longer hear the cry of the seagulls or the crash of the ocean waves. Instead there was a cacophony of voices mixed with the clangs of metal against metal ringing up from levels below.
Elise stepped off the ladder and looked around. Floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of the same bronze-colored metal. The hallway Elise found herself in was narrow and long and she had to move forward several strides to allow room for those behind her.
Others began filing down the ladder. Elise recognized Lord Chauncey’s boots the moment he alighted.
“How are you today, my dear?” he asked as soon as he was done climbing. “All nerves and anxiety I expect.”