“No, I believe you enjoy it very much, Jacalyn.”
At the top of the stairs, Finette ran down the wide hallway for the darkened, narrow set of stairs that led to her bedroom, a small room in the attic. Jacalyn allowed her daughters to choose the best bedrooms on the second floor, and banished Papa to another small bedroom while occupying the largest bedroom.
Finette slammed the door and locked them all out. She knelt beside the clockwork trunk she’d built long ago to store her most precious possessions. A small trinket chest Addie’d brought home from China gave her the idea for the unique lock system. Certain grommets had to be pressed in the correct order or the chest wouldn’t open. Finette knew the twins tried many times to break into it, but had failed.
After the lid popped open, Finette placed the ruined clothes inside. The box locked tight as soon as the lid closed again.
Since she’d begun her schooling, she’d loved learning about ancient automata. Her governess Elinor Gosslin had encouraged Finette with historical teachings, incorporating the text titled Book of Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices. The tome described several hand-washing automatons that refilled water basins and offered soap, a Japanese automaton that served tea, and various mechanical animals—singing birds, or roaring lions and tigers. Gadgets that served both as entertainment or useful items, and when Finette promised to re-create the gadgets, Mademoiselle Elinor excused her from her studies to work on them.
If only Jacalyn hadn’t found out and fired Elinor. Her stepmother found any excuse to bar the people Finette loved from her life. Why, she could only guess… because Finette resembled the locket portrait of her mother Rosamonde, and Papa had loved her so much, he still grieved for her?
She pulled the treasured locket from its hiding place inside the box and ran her finger over the faded image. So do I, Mama.
With a weary sigh, she rose and stood at the window. The first star of the evening shone, so she closed her eyes tight and whispered, “Make my dreams come true.” Both the spoken and unspoken kind, s’il vous plait.
The star winked as if in answer.
***
In the morning, Addie’s carriage arrived again like a wish granted. Before fleeing, Finette called through the front door, “I’ll be working with Addie again today.” She scrambled into the carriage before anyone could complain, and after reaching the hangar, jumped out to meet her friend. “You saved me again.”
“You’ve worked hard to improve your skills, so I think you’re up to a challenge.” Addie walked her into the hangar and tapped the tarp that covered something large. “If you can repair this aircraft, I’ll let you use it in the next race. After that, maybe you can work for me as a pilot.” She pulled off the tarp. A magnificent, if broken, steam-powered aeroplane was beneath. Shiny and red as a ripe apple, the flying machine sported one set of wings. One was broken, revealing the ash wood frame beneath. Another frame ran nearly the length of the aeroplane from below the pilot’s seat to the tail rudder, and held together with an intricate wire wrapping. Long wires attached the rudder to pedals in the front so the pilot could steer the tail rudder. At seeing the steam-powered engine, Finette wanted to clap. This flying machine would shriek through the air.
“So pretty.” Finette ran her hand across the nose. “Where did you get it?”
“A rich, bored client who shouldn’t be allowed in the cockpit of fine flying machines. Once, this ship was a beauty. He wrecked it, and turned it into a beast.” Addie set her hands on her hips. “With a little love and a lot of work, it could be a beauty again. What do you say?”
“I say yes.” Finette would never have such an incredible opportunity. Except for one problem. “The race is less than two months away.”
Addie winked. “Then you’d better get busy, non?”
“Oui.” Finette squealed with delight and rocked Addie in an embrace.
“Good girl. You’ll show them.” Addie broke away. “I wish I could stay and help, but another job came up. I’ll be gone about two weeks, maybe three, depending.”
Whistling sounded from the road, and Adrien bicycled to the hangar. His long legs appeared comical pumping the pedals.
Addie cocked an amused brow at Finette. “Ah, Romeo has returned.”
He walked the bike inside, then tipped his cap to them. “Bon jour.”
“And how is Mademoiselle Lisette, Adrien?” Finette asked.
He blew raspberries and held his hand to his chest. “Aveline owns my heart.”
“This week,” she winked to Addie, knowing full well her first mate never stayed with one girl for long.
Curses flew from his mouth, and ended simply with, “Women.”
“Men!” Finette countered. He and Monty were enough to sour any female against them. She set her hands on her hips and turned her attention to Addie. “What do you need me to take care of while you’re gone?”
Addie pointedly looked at the aeroplane. “That.”
Finette’s heart flooded with gratitude. “Why are you so kind to me?”
Addie clasped her hand on Finette’s shoulder. “I never had a sister, might never have a child. But my Daddy taught me everything I know about flying and about mechanicals. He also taught me not to keep it to myself. So I’m investing my knowledge in you. I have a soft spot in my heart for you.”
“I promise to do my best for you. You’re a wonderful friend.”
“Don’t say it like you don’t deserve this chance. If you don’t believe in yourself, who will?” Addie wrinkled her nose. “Another gem Daddy taught me, and it’s one of the most important truths.”
Finette shrugged. “I’d better get started, then.”
“All the tools and supplies you’ll need are right here in the hangar. The carriage is yours to use, unless you’d rather stay here while I’m gone.”
Not go home? That sounded like heaven. Unless her stepmother made it into Hell, and used it to shame her reputation. “Fantastic.”
“I’ll see you in a few weeks.” Addie climbed up the ladder and vanished.
Adrien jogged to the ladder. “Be a love and set Cloudbreaker loose?”
A wave in answer, and Finette ran beneath the airship and uncoiled both lines. She watched as the airship soared off into the haze of the midmorning sun. When it became no more than a dot near the horizon, she blew out a breath. Uncertainty crept back, sliding under her skin like a cold mist. The task ahead seemed enormous. Insurmountable. What if, instead of fixing it, she ruined the aeroplane even further? She’d long ago grown used to her stepmother’s disappointment, but wouldn’t be able to bear Addie’s.
Stop whining. Get to work.
Her breath gushed out in a rush of determination, and she steered herself to the flying machine. Forced herself to inspect every inch. More damage than I’d thought. She should write a list. That way, she could check off each one as she finished and move on to the next. In addition to helping her keep track, the method would provide a sense of accomplishment.
Somewhere, Addie kept paper. Finette rummaged in the mess atop the counter and located a scrap, then found an ink pen some admirer had given to Addie. An ingenious little thing, designed to push the ink to the tip as the writer used it. Such devices inspired her yearning to travel, to discover new and exciting things.
After making the list and reading each notation, she despaired again. Only an expert could complete such tasks in the allotted time. Yes, she could fix the household automatons that the twins broke—on purpose, simply to bedevil her—and she laughed all over again at remembering her sisters’ anger at how fast she’d become at repairing the gadgets, the direct result of their interference. Finette had also learned how to build sturdier machines to withstand abuse, and prevent future such ‘accidents’.
But those were not as complex as a flying machine. Her very life would depend on how well she could restore the aeroplane.
Maybe all she was good for was creating gadgets and gizmos, models and jewelry.
; She removed the dragonfly pin from her suspenders and pressed the button. The mechanical insect lifted up, buzzed away and then sputtered. Rather than returning to her as it should, it began to descend.
“No!” She lunged and managed to catch it in her hand without crushing its wings. Like an ailing bug, the dragonfly buzzed in short bursts as if incapable of expending more energy.
She lightly traced her finger down its back. “What’s wrong?”
The broach went still, a silent accuser of her lack of skill. She refastened the pin onto her suspenders.
For a long time, she stared at the aeroplane. She felt as if she might have been staring into an abyss. Her next move would determine her fate. Her future.
In her head, a small voice pierced the stillness. Will you let Jacalyn rule over you for the rest of your life? Or do you want to captain your own fate?
She’d known the answer for a long time.
She walked toward the flying machine, and lifted a wrench. If she had to, she’d use it to break out of the cage she’d almost locked herself into. Instead, she simply set to work.
Chapter Three
Finette had no clue of the hour when she arrived home. Gas lamps lit along the street gave proof the clock had not yet struck midnight, otherwise the neighborhood would be dark. The Proulx mansion, surprisingly, remained well lit, so Papa must still be awake.
She climbed down from the carriage and stumbled to the doorstep. She’d put in a long day. It slipped her mind that she still wore her goggles as she threw open the door, and stamped her boots on the mat outside so she wouldn’t track caked mud indoors. “Hello? Did no one miss me today?”
Jacalyn peered round the corner. “Did someone say—” Her shriek interrupted her inquiry.
Alarm jerked up Finette’s head.
It only increased the decibel level of her stepmother’s scream.
Finette whirled to see if a thug was perhaps creeping up behind her. No one was there.
Her father burst from his study and ran through the hallway. “What’s wrong?”
Hoarse, Jacalyn gagged and pointed at Finette.
She lifted her goggles. “What, these? You’ve seen me wearing my headgear many times.”
Her stepmother’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she crumpled at the knees. “Oh, this is too much. I can’t take any more.”
Remy guided his wife to the settee in the parlor. “I’ll get you some water, dear.”
“I need something stronger,” she rasped.
“Cooking sherry?” he offered.
Jacalyn slowly stroked her neck. “No. Cognac.” Nothing indecisive about her response.
After a beat in which Papa stared into her eyes as if she were a stranger, he walked to the wooden cart and splashed liquor into a glass, marched back to his wife and held the glass close to his chest.
She took the alcohol from his hand and held his gaze in defiance while she gulped it down. “We must do something about her. Soon.”
Finette softly cleared her throat to indicate she was still within hearing range. “No need. I’m working on a new project.”
“A new project.” Jacalyn pushed the glass into her husband’s hand and waved him toward the cart. “Another flight of fancy, I presume?” She hooted at her own small joke.
Tired of being the source of her stepmother’s amusement, Finette stood tall. Hopefully many flights, and every last one would take her far from here.
“I’m repairing an aeroplane. I intend to enter the British Diamond Cup.” If only she could raise enough money for the entry fee in time. She’d completely blocked that important tidbit from her mind, but now it hit her full on. How could she possibly enter the race?
“Where did you get the money for a flying machine? Have you been stealing?” Jacalyn’s eyes had the glitter of a maniac’s. Probably the prospect of sending Finette away, even to jail, filled her with black glee.
Finette mustered an honorable display of indignity, though she could honestly care less what Jacalyn thought of her. “Certainly not. I didn’t buy the aeroplane, it’s Addie’s. She said if I repaired it, she’d let me use it for the race.”
Her stepmother’s beady-eyed glare, the way she shook her head so fast it might spin off her shoulders, filled Finette with dread.
“You’re not only a fool,” Jacalyn hissed, “you’re a liar.” Everything about her appeared pinched, coiled to strike.
Finette bit her tongue to halt the stream of curses threatening to explode. “I’ve never—”
“Silence!” Her stepmother’s gestures were as shaky and uncontrolled as her voice. “Go to your room. Your father and I have much to discuss.”
“Good night, then.” The weariness settling into Finette’s bones like a weight convinced her to trudge upstairs to her bed. Otherwise, she’d have remained by Papa’s side to shield him from whatever verbal assault Jacalyn might launch.
Closing her door helped to mute their bickering, but didn’t block it. A door slammed. Papa’s study? Then stomping footsteps, and another door slammed. Jacalyn probably locked Papa out of their bedroom. Much as Finette hated to see her father suffer, he’d be better off without her.
Once she won the race, Finette could repay Papa, and perhaps convince him to travel with her, far from the dragon lady’s scorching breath.
***
In the morning, Papa sat at the dining room table, reading the newspaper and sipping coffee. Jacalyn daintily chewed a croissant, as did Daisy and Celine.
A serene domestic scene that Finette had no wish to disrupt. “Good morning.” She grabbed a roll and some cheese, and turned to duck out of the room.
“Finette.”
Her stepmother’s sharpness halted her. Finette turned. “Yes?”
“Sit down.”
She flinched at the command. She looked to Papa, but he kept his gaze on the newspaper.
She forced an apologetic smile. “The carriage is waiting. I have to work—”
“Fine, don’t sit,” Jacalyn snapped, then smiled at the twins. “I’m holding a ball in late July. That will provide adequate time to send out invitations and plan the details.”
Daisy and Celine’s squeals drowned out Finette’s groan. Even though the family’s finances had nearly failed?
Her stepmother assessed her with eagle eyes. “Finette, I expect you to dress like a lady—and by that I mean, you must wear a gown and properly fix that rats’ nest of hair. All the eligible bachelors will attend. I’m hoping that at least one will find you to be a suitable match.”
“I have no time or inclination for courting.” She sometimes doubted her true soul-mate existed. Marrying for any reason other than love didn’t interest her.
Jacalyn waved her off as she sipped her tea. “I’m hoping for a quick courtship. Matrimony will cure you of your irresponsibility.” The severity of her tone left no room for misinterpretation.
Dumbstruck, Finette tried to gather her thoughts. She turned to her father, and finally worked up the nerve to announce, “I have my own plans.”
Daisy and Celine tittered. “Plans,” they mimicked.
Jacalyn gazed at them adoringly. “My girls are only sixteen and they understand the difference between real plans and childish dreams.”
More like her worst nightmare. She pleaded to her father. “I don’t want to marry, Papa.”
“Finette…” Without looking at anyone, he released a strangled breath, then threw his napkin atop the table as he rose. “I’m late for work.”
She blinked hard to make sure she wasn’t still sleeping. The triumph on Jacalyn’s face told her this was no dream. She ground out, “I’m late for work, too.” Then she turned on her heel and fled, not bothering to close the door. She ran so hard, she nearly tripped into the carriage.
Supposedly her stepmother loved Papa when they married. Had it faded, or had she been using him all along? Was that the sort of arrangement her stepmother wanted for Finette? The horrible images playing through her mind t
urned her stomach. A ball. She could imagine the sort of man Jacalyn would hand her off to at the mere suggestion of marriage. Old goats who stank of bourbon and would consider her a possession rather than a partner. Or worse, someone like Monty, who’d use her and use her until there was nothing left of her, and then he’d shove her aside.
Her hands fisted atop her knees as the carriage glided down the road. No, she could not let that happen. She would not marry.
She would fix the aeroplane, and make it the fastest flying machine in the sky. Somehow, she’d scrape together the entry fee. No matter what she had to do, she’d…
The idea that struck both frightened and excited her. She would risk her dearest friendship, but it might be her only hope.
The carriage arrived at Addie’s. Finette stared out the window. No sense getting out if she didn’t fix the financial problem first, so she sent the carriage to another address.
Please be there. I need you.
Part of her hoped no one would be home to witness her shame in having to beg, but five horses grazed in the pasture and the carriage sat beside the stable. Finette steeled herself for the worst, even while hoping for the best.
Before climbing out, she set the mechanical carriage to Wait, then wondered if she should do the same. She wore her usual tan slacks, suspenders, blouse and boots, not the most suitable outfit for visiting, even an old friend. The niggling feeling that she should have planned ahead doubled when the servant opened the door and gasped.
Finette hurried to explain herself before the middle-aged woman, who must be newly employed, could scream. “I’m a friend of Cadence’s. Finette Proulx. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
Wide-eyed with suspicion, she shook her head.
Oh dear. “If she’s not busy, would you please let Madame de Bergerac know I’m here? And may I come in?”
The servant moved aside, almost comical in the rigid set of her spine and mute responses. She snuck around Finette on tiptoe and tottered across the foyer and down the hall.
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