“Come to my house,” Caroline insisted. “Odette is dining with me tomorrow night. I’ll send the coach picking her up to retrieve you at the Middle Temple. That way you will have some privacy to speak with her. If you do not wish to stay for dinner, it will convey you home.” A ghost of her mischievous smile wavered on her lips. “I can certainly understand where you might find it uncomfortable to eat after such a carriage ride.”
The plan was agreed upon. Caroline and Aamod stood together in the great hall as they bid farewell to the two young men. After the door had shut on their retreating backs, Caroline put her arms around the tall Indian. She rested her head on his chest.
“Englishmen,” she sighed with sad resignation.
*
Odell strained against his bindings, barely able to grasp the horror of the sight before him. Not that anything was typical of the scene just moments before. It had all happened so quickly.
Three men had stood in a small, dank, and windowless room. One was bound with a rope to a sturdy iron bedstead. The other two were arguing. Drake, he recognized. His handsome face alternating between anger and confusion.
“Good God, man! What are you talking about? Betrayal?” Drake’s voice rose to almost shouting, “I brought Speex here. The Temporatus. Everything you asked of me!”
The other man kept his voice low. He was in late middle age, perhaps in his early sixties. He was a tall, well-built man with his middle tending to fat. Thinning gray hair sat atop a large head with a face lined but still attractive in that soft, academic way some women loved.
“I’ve tried to explain this to you many times, Drake,” his voice a pretense of weary patience. “I told you that any deviation from my instructions would result in changes in the timeline and endanger my plans. I told you I would know if you did not follow them to the letter, if you betrayed me. And now I do.” With that he pulled a gun from the folds of his cape and calmly shot Drake through the heart.
The report was deafening in the small room. Odell struggled to regain his senses. Although the rope allowed him little leeway, he jumped up from the bed and crouched. He searched the room for some shield or weapon.
The man looked at him in bafflement, and then laughed when he realized his gun was still upraised. He lowered it and walked over to the motionless form sprawled on the floor. He reached down and pulled the crystal key from around Drake’s neck.
“A much sleeker design than my own, I must admit.” He shook his head thoughtfully and pulled a length of chain from beneath the high collar of his shirt. He stood comparing the two keys. “Although, you must have had another five years or so to perfect the technology.” He smiled tightly. “I used it when there were yet a few kinks to be worked out, for sure.”
Odell stared at him, his terror deepening as recognition stirred in his numb brain. “Professor Bradley?” he whispered through dry lips. “Arthur Bradley?”
“As I live and breathe, Speex!” The man threw his arms out in a dramatic gesture. “As I live and breathe!”
Odell glanced over at the dead man on the floor. He had never witnessed violent death before. There was hardly any blood to speak of. As if the bullet had cauterized the wound upon entry. He was sickened by the suddenness of it. Drake was a pompous bastard and a dangerous man. But to have one’s life snuffed out in an instant. He didn’t deserve that.
“Not to worry, Speex. I have no intention of killing you at the moment.”
Odell pulled himself together and stood up from his defensive crouch on the floor. He set his features in the impassive expression he had perfected at eighteen when he was expelled from his university post and blacklisted from his profession. A feat almost single-handedly accomplished by the man standing in front of him. Odell’s impressive intellect kicked abruptly back into gear and the puzzle pieces began to fall into place.
“You stole my technology,” he said matter-of-factly. “You stole my work and had me kicked out of the university as an unstable eccentric.”
“I did,” Arthur Bradley answered without a hint of remorse. “I did much more than that, but…” He waved his hand nonchalantly. “…that is a story for another time.”
“It was only five years ago,” Odell replied disbelievingly. “You… you…”
“Please, Speex, let me relieve you of your stammering confusion,” Bradley jeered. “My exit from our mutual timeline was rather hurried, and the machine was not entirely ready. I was unable to engineer the biological component, and as a result the machine was less precise.” He turned down the corners of his mouth as if this admission was distasteful to him. “I set the controls to land me in mid-twentieth century New York City and ended up in rural Yorkshire in 1735.”
He released a huff of laughter. “It was rather like a bad romance novel. I was found terribly wounded by the beautiful daughter of an impoverished nobleman—the smoldering wreckage of my machine nearby.” He made a turn about the room, charmed by the sound of his own voice. “It took me only a few years to establish myself. Some agricultural and husbandry advances here and there and I was able to help the man prosper. Naturally I won the hand of his fair daughter and, well, as they say, the rest is history. That was over twenty years ago. And now you see I’m a very wealthy and powerful man.”
A knock at the door interrupted this monologue. On Bradley’s word, two burly men entered. They picked up the body of Charles Drake and carried it out.
Bradley scrunched up his face in mock distress. “Nasty business with Drake. It’s a pity. He was useful. But events are moving fast, and I need the key now. I had thought to wait until the puzzle was more fully pieced together, but time is running out.”
Odell was confused but ventured, “I assume he was not the impoverished scion of a once noble family.”
Bradley laughed with great good humor. “No, no, just a poor boy I pulled from the bowels of Newgate Prison. I had him educated. Taught him everything he knows, oh…” He laughed again. “…knew. Trained him for the mission forward in time. He owed me everything, and yet he betrayed me.” Bradley seemed genuinely perplexed by this.
“He said he didn’t.”
“Oh, my boy. He didn’t know he had.”
Odell’s face suddenly stilled. “A time paradox.”
“Right again. As you predicted.” He smiled. “My boy, are you never wrong?”
Odell was frowning down at the floor. “But I am wrong. Little changes should have no impact on the timeline.” He looked up at Bradley. “There can be some alteration. But the time trajectory is just too long, other variables will always intervene to re-set the course. Even your agricultural innovations should have little impact. My guess is that few have adopted them, even in the vicinity of your father-in-law’s estate.”
Bradley shook his head in mock admiration. “Right again.”
“I never told Drake,” Odell said guiltily, even knowing that his story was a complete fabrication. “I never told him that whatever he did here was unlikely to change the course of his family’s history.”
“It’s not your fault, Speex,” Bradley responded sympathetically. “You needed his money to finish your work. I would have done the same.”
Odell was appalled. He was revolted at the very thought of being in any way similar to this man. His stomach clinched in something close to panic.
“Your plan,” he stated tersely.
“Ah, you’ve finally hit upon it. My grand plan! No, not a little thing, Speex. A very big thing. In fact, many big things.”
Odell stood rooted to the ground. He couldn’t have moved even if his limbs had been free. “What have you done?”
“Well, I haven’t done it yet or… no… wait! I have done it. But even the best laid plans go awry. And I have you and your sister to thank for giving me a heads up and a renewed chance at success.”
“My sister!” Odell glared at Bradley with haunted eyes and grimaced in anger. “That’s impossible, you bastard!
Days imprisoned had left Odell mentally
and physically drained. Initially he was chained by the ankle to the bedstead which had allowed him some freedom of movement, and the ability to exercise. Only in the last two days had his imprisonment become more severe. His hands had been bound together, restricting his movements significantly. The overwhelming boredom of inactivity was also taking its toll. This, combined with sleepless nights, often left Odell questioning his sanity.
“And yet, she is here,” Arthur Bradley pronounced impatiently. “Don’t let emotion cloud your thinking, Speex. It doesn’t become you.”
Odell struggled for self-control, finally saying, “You interfered with history so drastically that it changed the outcome of the future. But why?” He stared down at his swollen hands and chafed wrists, thinking quickly. He looked up again with dawning understanding. “You want to go back,” he said with conviction, his eyes now focused intently on Bradley’s face. “You want to go back but can’t. At least, not to the world that is or was. So you needed to change it.
“That’s why you left to begin with, isn’t it?” Odell continued. “You didn’t just leave, you ran. You had to leave. And now you want to make it safe to go back again.” His sight grew vague. He whispered almost to himself, “But why not just implement the change yourself? Repair your machine and return with it?”
A millisecond later his vision sharpened, and he stared hard at the patiently waiting man. “You needed my tech. You need a safer technology.”
“Bravo, Speex! Bravo!” Bradley slowly clapped his hands. “I repaired my machine and was even able to make some slight improvements. Quite brilliant, I might add, particularly with the limited resources this century possesses. But while I was willing to risk Drake’s life, I have no intention of risking my daughter’s, or mine, for that matter. Although I don’t think I’ll be bringing my wife along. Not what she used to be, if you take my meaning.”
He made for the door and stopped just before opening it. “You can’t imagine the years it took me to teach Drake to be a convincing man of the twenty-first century. The years of planning, building his network of supporters here. All put at risk because he got greedy.” Bradley frowned in disbelief. “He could have lived here in great wealth and power and yet, he wanted more. He wanted the utopia I was creating in the future for himself. I can only imagine he somehow killed me and took you back with him as a safeguard. With his supporters in place, the plan would have gone forward regardless.” He nodded his head decisively. “But it is better this way, cleaner. I only needed Drake as a front man. He was really no longer necessary.”
“Your plan?” Odell asked with studied indifference. “What is it?”
Bradley wasn’t fooled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He opened the door. Odell forestalled him with another question. “My sister?”
“Odette is just as much a troublesome cow as your mother ever was,” he growled over his shoulder before shutting the door firmly behind him.
Leaving Odell to wonder how Arthur Bradley knew anything about his mother.
Chapter 30
“Sorry, miss, I have one more stop to make before returning to the house,” the coachman said while handing Odette into the luxurious carriage. Caroline had been very strict in her instructions to be vague when referring to what that stop entailed.
She needn’t have worried. Odette was less than curious. She nodded a listless acknowledgment to the coachman and settled herself against the soft cushions. She welcomed a long, solitary carriage ride.
After last night’s encounter with Gabriel, Odette had slept poorly. Before retiring she listened to the excited chatter from Wu and Fancy and tried to join in with questions and exclamations. Both competed to outdo the other in describing the social whirl in the boxes and among the masses in the pit.
“Really, Odette, it was quite wonderful,” Cara told her in a quiet aside. “Although Mariah has her limitation, she did a lovely job. David was very pleased, but I’m sure he’ll be even more pleased when you return.”
It struck Odette forcefully that Cara would speak as if her tenure at the Theatre Royal was a real job—as if they were actually living this life. Odette had made that same mistake too many times in the past.
She looked around the cozy sitting room at the two laughing teenagers and at Cara with her stockinged feet propped up on an old, overstuffed ottoman and made a decision.
“Cara,” she said under her breath so as not to attract the attention of Wu and Fancy. “I am dining with Lady Caroline tomorrow night to discuss our options.”
Cara merely raised her eyebrows, so Odette continued, “I’m convinced we need to make a move. We are clearly in someone’s crosshairs, and I’m not comfortable being a target. Odell has been here for days. We need to find him, and whoever is behind this plot.”
“We will follow Drake,” Wu said. “He may lead us to your brother.”
Odette checked herself to find that Wu and Fancy had stopped talking and were listening intently to their whispered conversation.
She shook her head. “No, it’s—”
“Too dangerous,” they finished in unison.
“We know,” Fancy added. “But we’re good at it, really. And there’s no other way.”
Odette sighed in defeat. “I know.”
They had arrived home from the ballet less than a quarter of an hour after Gabriel had left. Odette barely had time to change before Fancy came tripping gaily in through the front door. She was followed at a more sedate pace by Cara and Wu.
Odette had convinced herself that telling them about her disastrous first meeting with Benjamin Franklin and equally fruitless revelations to Gabriel would only spoil the evening for them. But somehow the next morning did not seem any more propitious, and she had successfully avoided telling them throughout the entire day.
Sitting now in Lady Caroline’s carriage watching the busy cityscape flow by, she felt this omission was yet another indication of her failings. She was tired, frightened, and, above all else, longed to see her brother.
Darkness had diminished the view from her window when the carriage came to a smooth stop outside a walled courtyard. The door opened, and Odette stiffened in her seat to see the coachman admit Gabriel. He sat down opposite her and waited until the door was closed to glance at her impassive profile.
He cleared his throat nervously, but she ignored him and steadfastly stared out the window. She was furious. It radiated out from the pit of her stomach and whipped like fire through her brain.
“…it’s mother and Barbara really,” he had been speaking for a few moments unheeded when Odette finally turned to look at him. Her eyes hardened as he continued, “I can’t risk putting them in harm’s way. And then treason, Odette—”
She let out a bitter little laugh that caught him off guard. He looked at her uncertainly, and she looked back at him with eyes stripped of love, tenderness, understanding, even anger. All he could see was steely determination.
Odette was tired of being afraid, tired of beating herself up for every misstep, and especially tired of Gabriel’s excuses. “Your mother and sister is it, Gabe?” she replied harshly, her words striking out like the lash of a whip. “You wouldn’t be afraid for yourself? Would you?” She laughed mirthlessly again and leaned intently toward him. “Well, I’m afraid too. I’m afraid for everyone I love, but mostly I’m afraid for everything I know to be right.” As she spoke, her voice gathered strength and a resolve she had not felt before. “Because you know what, Gabe? You can’t protect them. Not unless you give up everything you believe in. And even then, you can’t be sure.”
She sat back against the cushions and folded her arms firmly across her chest. “So let me reveal another secret of the future. All those men you so admire. All those good men who meet in coffeehouses and churches and homes to talk about new ideas and new beginnings, are going to be dead. In a few short years, they will be imprisoned and hung for treason.”
He looked back at her stony-faced, his lips set, his breathi
ng quick and angry. She barely noticed. “Every one of them, Gabe. No one is spared. Not even their families. It’s called the Progressive Purge. And in the history books I studied as a child, it was considered a good thing!” she exclaimed scornfully. “All of that death and destruction so the aristocracy you’re so worried about committing treason against can continue to suck the life out of the vast majority of us poor, lowly peasants!
“So go ahead, Gabe!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Go back to the inn. Lock your doors and board up the windows. Turn a blind eye and deaf ears to what’s to come. And when you see them hanging from the gallows and their families dragged from their homes, you can at least find comfort in keeping your mother and sister safe!”
She barely had enough oxygen to finish her last sentence. She was appalled at her outburst. But it was like a fog had lifted from her brain. She wanted to strike. She wanted to find whoever was doing this and hurt them badly.
Odette sucked in a lung-full of air and stole a glance at Gabriel. He was looking blindly out the carriage window, his clenched jaw the only sign of his anger and troubled thoughts.
She looked away. She couldn’t worry about him now. If he wasn’t with them, so be it. She needed to speak with Lady Caroline and Aamod. They needed to find Odell and Master Yuan. They had to stop the assassination of Benjamin Franklin and the impending purge.
Her mind was churning over the possibilities when a scream pierced her jumbled thoughts. The carriage came to an abrupt, jerky halt. Odette and Gabriel exchanged alarmed looks. Both lunged for the door only to topple out over each other as it was suddenly opened by the coachman.
They stood facing Lady Caroline’s residence on the east side of Grosvenor Square. The scream had definitely come from within the impressive mansion that stood seven bays wide. Odette’s alarm deepened as she realized that all the houses on this side of the central garden were unnaturally dark and quiet. Only a few dim lights flickered through securely drawn drapes. Lady Caroline’s house was completely dark. The windows stared down at them like dead lumps of coal.
Odette Speex: Time Traitors Book 1 Page 27