And yet … she had kissed Andrew, and it had been heaven.
She had kissed James, too, and it had been quite the opposite.
But now, here on this lovely terrace in a beautiful dress, she stood with a handsome man whose eyes told her he would very much like to be the third man to kiss her.
If she were in love with Andrew, then why was she filled with such … anticipation … at such a wicked prospect?
“Claire? What are you thinking?” He stood only inches from her, as though he might take her in his arms.
“I—I cannot say.”
“You can say anything you like to me.”
“You would be shocked.”
“From the woman who jumped into a flash flood … who sacrificed herself to save a friend’s life … who managed to find her way across miles of desert practically unaided … I think not.”
“Are you going to kiss me?”
Oh dear.
She had shocked him now.
Chapter 8
“Should—should you like it if I did?” Captain Hollys was clearly attempting to regain his footing.
“Logically, you know, that question is unanswerable until after the fact.”
That surprised a laugh out of him. “You are a minx. But I should have expected nothing less. You are quite right. But logic notwithstanding, perhaps you might tell me something.”
It was not quite fair. She stood in the light of the brazier, while his face was shadowed. She stepped to the side so that both of them shared equally in the light. “Certainly.”
“How does it stand between you and Andrew Malvern?”
She would give a great deal to know that answer herself. “We are very good friends. We owe each other our lives.”
“Owing a life is not quite the same as promising one.”
“We are not promised. I have been too recently engaged for that.” Belatedly, it occurred to her that her affections were not really any of his business unless he planned to make them so. “What is your purpose in asking, Captain?”
“Ian. I should think that when a man and a woman discuss kissing under the light of the moon, his purpose should be rather obvious. You cannot doubt my feelings for you, Claire.”
If her racing heart was any indication, that was a fact.
“But I should very much like to know yours.”
“If—if I knew them myself, I might be able to tell you.” Oh dear. She sounded like a perfect featherhead. Snouts would be ashamed of her. “But Captain—Ian—there must be many other ladies here tonight with whom you might have this discussion.”
“I’m sure there are. But I am having it with you.”
“Many others with whom your time would be better spent. Ian, I am not the best prospect in the world. If you knew—there are things that—” She took a frustrated breath at her own inability to speak her mind. For if she did, he would bolt into that ballroom and for the rest of the voyage she would have to endure the loss of his friendship and the pain of his avoiding her.
She rather enjoyed being the Lady of Devices. She suspected, however, that the Lady would not make the best choice of wife.
“If you mean to frighten me off, you will have to do a better job than this.” He smiled down at her, and moved a step closer. The tips of his polished boots touched the hem of her gown. “I have nothing but admiration for you. If it is your family’s straitened circumstances that you’re thinking of, that does not matter to me. I am not without resources.”
This reminded her of something she had meant to ask him. “How does a baronet come to be flying a ship for an earl, taking his orders and ferrying him about the world?”
“You did not know I am a baronet?”
“You wear no such insignia on your collar, sir. Merely an airman’s wings and an officer’s bars.”
“And I am proud to wear them. For me, they are the important ones. As for taking the earl’s orders, he takes plenty of mine, too. We have seen too much together and had each other’s backs too many times to let something as unimportant as rank affect our relationship. I am, in fact, John’s cousin.”
“Ah.” That certainly explained the ease with which he came and went among the members of the family. “But what of your responsibility to the baronetcy? Your home?”
“The estate is a small one, but it is in the capable hands of a steward I trust. And until now, I have not been overly concerned with taking up, as you say, my responsibility. Should I be shot down, the estate will be folded into the Dunsmuir holdings and managed as efficiently as they manage everything.”
“I imagine your family would prefer you not be shot down. Though I must say, you came rather close on this voyage.”
“My mother would agree. She would like you, I think.”
I doubt that very much. My own mother has a difficult time with me.
“Ian, we cannot speak of these things.”
“I mentioned that I had not thought much of my responsibility until now. But I could see myself at Hollis Park, settling down, with a gray-eyed girl who makes my heart lift like a ship each time she enters a room.”
She must put a stop to this. Could he be about to propose? If so, she could not toy with a good man’s affections in this manner.
“Ian, I am … encumbered. I have the girls to think of, and Tigg, and Jake.” And there is Andrew.
“It is heroic, the way you look after those children. I can be of assistance to them. I believe I have already offered young Tigg a position. Our chief engineer, Mr. Yau, is standing ready to take him on as midshipman, if you and he agree, and Jake has the makings of a fine navigator now that he has decided which side he wants to fight on.”
“You may have to fight Alice for him. He got us here, all the way from Reno, when none of us had ever been in these skies before.”
“Do not change the subject.”
“But I must,” she said desperately. “I am so confused. One moment I’m a giddy girl, thinking you might kiss me. The next moment I’m as old and wise as a professor, thinking of my wards and their futures. And then there is my own future. If my application is accepted, I will be going to university when we return. I will not have time for—for courting. And in any case, you will be off to the Antipodes with the Dunsmuirs. It seems a hopeless case.”
“Not hopeless,” he said softly. “Never hopeless.”
And before she could take another breath, he dipped his head and kissed her.
*
Knots in one’s stomach were anatomically impossible. Yet there they were, growing tighter with every moment that Claire and the Lady Lucy’s captain did not reappear.
Finally Andrew had had enough.
He smiled at his partner, the daughter of one of the governor’s cabinet ministers, bowed over her hand, and made his way through the crowd to the French doors. He stepped through just in time to see Captain Hollys gather Claire into his arms and kiss her.
Just the way he himself had kissed her, that day in the lab when she had been engaged to another.
And she allowed the captain’s kiss, just the way she had allowed his.
The breath rushed out of him and he actually flinched, as if someone had delivered a sucker punch to his stomach. Blindly, he turned before they could see him, and stumbled back into the ballroom.
“Mr. Malvern!” Lady Dunsmuir emerged, smiling gaily, from between two large matrons. “Good heavens, sir, you look ill. Are you all right?”
He must pull himself together. He and Claire were not engaged. They were not even a couple. They were … whatever two people were who had shared a kiss and had both acknowledged that it meant something, however wrong it had been at the time. He had never had a chance to speak of what lay on his heart, and she had been too busy looking after the children and flying about the country saving people’s lives to remember that she carried it in her hand.
“Mr. Malvern, I am becoming quite concerned.”
He focused on Lady Dunsmuir, who was gazing up into his fa
ce, two worried lines between her brows. She laid a gentle hand upon the fine wool sleeve of his new dinner jacket. “Is there something outside that upset you?”
The breath he had managed to catch rushed out again. “Claire is kissing Captain Hollys on the terrace,” he said dully.
“Ah.” She pulled him aside, between the drapes and a huge potted topiary tree shaped like a series of lollipops piled one upon another. “I rather think Captain Hollys is kissing her. He has been smitten since the beginning of the voyage.”
“The result is the same.” He came to himself with the realization that discussing Claire with anyone else was the height of disloyalty.
Not that loyalty was counting for much anywhere he looked at the moment.
“Dance with me,” she commanded, and when he obediently whirled her out onto the floor, the action seemed to clear his mind.
“I beg your pardon, Lady Dunsmuir. It is wrong of me to say such things.”
“Why? You have her affections, I know. One does not sacrifice oneself to save a man’s life if one does not care.”
“She risked her life to save James Selwyn, and she did not care for him. It seems to be her way.”
“She is brave and impulsive and fiercely loyal. And, I suspect, rather inexperienced when it comes to matters of the heart. You must make allowances, Mr. Malvern. She is only just eighteen.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I do not know whether to propose or pack her off to university.”
“The latter is not within your control, is it?”
“No. Nothing is. I do not even have passage back to England—and if I did, I would not leave her.”
“Do not worry on that account. You are most welcome to travel with us. Lady Lucy has any number of empty cabins.”
“At this rate you will have to open your own shipping company.”
She laughed. “I would say we already have one, but in truth, that is under negotiation.”
“Oh?”
“I am not supposed to breathe a word, Mr. Malvern. You must not provoke me to be indiscreet.”
“Then I shall not.”
She allowed him several turns before she spoke again. “We are to tour our mine next week. Isobel Churchill has been agitating up in the north for indigenous control of natural resources, so it is becoming rather urgent that we go.”
“Does your mine infringe on that control?” Somehow he had not suspected the Dunsmuirs of the exploitation with which Mrs. Churchill had inflamed the London papers.
“No indeed. Nobody wanted that land until diamonds were discovered—and even afterward, the land could not be bought or sold in any case. Instead, we have a most amicable agreement with the Esquimaux, but there are those who would argue it reaches further than it should.” She laughed. “I fear I must remind them that those lands remain under indigenous control—merely in the hands of a member of a different nation.”
This was such a mystifying statement that he could not even frame a way to question it. Instead, he changed the subject.
“Are you acquainted with Count von Zeppelin?”
“I am indeed. We have visited Schloss Schwanenstein—his estate in Munich—on a number of occasions. In fact, I believe John is to stand as godfather to the newest grandchild. We will be going to Prussia for the christening before long, I daresay.”
“Perhaps you might introduce me? I saw that Claire met him, but I should very much like to as well.”
“Of course. I shall have John make the two of you known to one another. I imagine you will have no end of things to talk about.”
“Thank you, Lady Dunsmuir.”
“Oh, goodness. You must call me Davina. I will not have my friends standing upon ceremony.”
“And I am Andrew.”
The orchestra swung into the final figure and in moments ended the waltz with a flourish. Andrew could not resist the temptation to scan the crowd once more over the top of Davina’s tiara.
There.
Claire stood with Peony Churchill and Alice, laughing over something the latter had said. Peony slipped an arm around both their tightly corseted waists and they moved in the direction of the refreshments. Captain Hollys was nowhere to be seen and Andrew hated himself for even caring.
“You see?” Davina said as he kissed the back of her gloved hand. “She is a girl yet in some ways. She needs those ways, Andrew. Do not rush her.” She squeezed his hand. “I will find John and see about that introduction.”
And she slipped into the crowd, a small, regal figure whom he had no doubt the leaders of industry obeyed without a moment’s hesitation.
Do not rush her.
He did not want to rush Claire in the least. In fact, he wished she would slow down before she left him behind altogether.
Chapter 9
Claire hardly knew what she was doing or saying—she was only thankful Peony did. She and Alice nodded and smiled at the people to whom they were introduced, allowed gentlemen to claim the dances on their cards, and when those were full, allowed other gentlemen to provide them with ices and sparkling champagne.
“Not too much of that,” Peony warned her, “or you’ll forget which end is up.”
“I have no idea which end is up as it is,” Claire said without thinking, and Alice, who was looking much more cheerful now than she had at the beginning of the evening, smiled at her.
“As long as Captain Hollys does,” she teased.
“Oh, do give over. Though I am grateful you turned up just then.”
“Why, can’t the man kiss?” Alice’s eyes were big and blue and innocent over the rim of her champagne glass.
“He certainly can. But what does one say afterward? That is where the two of you saved me.”
“If you don’t know what to say afterward, it means two things.” Peony tossed back an iced oyster with the finesse of one who had done this many times. “Either you’re overcome with maidenly confusion, or you have no conversation with the gentleman anyway.”
“Neither of those things are true in my case, so your theory needs work.” Claire considered the oysters and turned away, shuddering. “I have no difficulty discussing any number of subjects with Captain Hollys under normal circumstances, and I am not confused.”
“Liar.” Peony’s eyes sparkled. “If I had to choose between two handsome men possessing both intellect and resources, I would be no end of confused.”
“I’d be happy with just one,” Alice said to the ice sculpture of a bear in the center of the table.
At which point Claire spotted Davina talking with her husband, Andrew, and Count von Zeppelin. She put down her glass so firmly that the champagne sloshed onto the damask tablecloth, and took two steps over to join them.
And stopped. Of course she should include Alice. She turned back. “Alice, come and be introduced to Count von Zeppelin.”
Alice’s eyes grew wide in truth this time. “What, me? Why should he want to know me? I’m no one.”
“Nonsense.” Claire linked her arm in Alice’s and pulled her along while Peony turned her attention to some serious flirting with a gentleman who also liked oysters. “I’ve already won Nine from you. Are you going to make me wager again? Because I will bet Nine back that the count will be delighted to meet you.”
“You don’t have to do that. You won fair and square.”
“Then stop saying such untrue things. Anyone in this room would do the same—and has, if Peony is any judge. She told me while you were in the powder room that you have made quite a number of conquests.”
“So have you. I wonder what Captain Hollys and Mr. Malvern think about that?”
But Claire was saved from a reply when Davina turned to them both and introduced Alice to the count without a moment’s prompting.
“Alice has a great deal of natural ability as an engineer,” Claire told him as he straightened from bowing over her gloved hand. Alice had blushed as red as one of the mesas overlooking Resolution, so to give her a moment to recover, Claire we
nt on, “She has created nine automatons.”
“Have you indeed.” Von Zeppelin took her in with renewed interest. “I have noticed that automata are much more in demand here on this continent than they are in Europe or England. Can you enlighten me as to why?”
Alice gulped at being asked for an informed opinion by a man she held in such esteem. Claire supposed it would be akin to being asked by Apollo if she could suggest a more efficient way to travel across the sky than by sun chariot.
“I—I suppose it’s because there aren’t so many people over here to hire on as servants and such,” she finally managed. “Folks find it easier to mechanize their help.”
“Is it so? Does this theory apply in the larger cities, where there are people looking for employment?”
“It depends on the employment,” Alice said, warming to her subject now that he seemed honestly interested and not merely making polite conversation. “There are more people exploring resources than cleaning latrines, and more women interested in engineering and science than being housemaids. Not,” she said hastily, “that there is anything dishonorable in being a housemaid. My ma was one, once. But if those tasks are taken care of by an automaton, and her family has the resources, then a girl can look to what interests her. That’s what I think, anyway.” The tumble of words slowed on the rocks of propriety. “I can’t speak for the whole territory.”
“I think you have spoken very well,” Davina said. “Can every household afford one?”
“It depends. All the rich folks seem to have ’em.”
“And what of families that do not have the resources?” Andrew asked. “Are they a status symbol?”
“Maybe,” Alice allowed. “But mine are just useful. I build ’em with what I have on hand, so that often determines what they’ll be used for.”
“Nine, for instance, has magnetic feet for locating items buried underground,” Claire put in helpfully.
“Six and Seven work in the engine room, Eight has his hoses, and Four—”
“We used him for an engine housing, I’m afraid,” Andrew said with a laugh. “We were stranded in the Idaho Territory and he sacrificed himself to get us back in the air.”
Brilliant Devices: A steampunk adventure novel (Magnificent Devices) Page 7