by Anne Renwick
“Nasty rumors about Amanda’s sister have begun to circulate.”
Thornton swore.
“Exactly. It seems a party of gentlewomen, seeking to have their fortunes read, invaded the gypsy campsite in Kensington Gardens. One of the women recognized Lady Emily. Additional precautions are being taken.” Black glanced over his shoulder. “Her sister, Lady Amanda, is, at this very moment, striding down the hallway with a decidedly fierce look upon her face.”
Thornton stood. “If you’ll wait for us in the laboratory?”
Black nodded, then ducked out.
Moments later, Amanda stepped into his office, her eyes dark with concern. She closed the door behind her with a shaking hand. “You’ve heard about my sister?”
“Black knows. He’ll keep her safe.”
“Nothing can undo the damage to my family’s reputation. My mother and Olivia are beside themselves.”
“Perhaps I should care more what society thinks.” He moved to stand before her, raising a hand to stroke a finger alongside her jaw. “Yet I find I only care what you think.”
“Think?” She stepped closer, and slid her arms about his waist. “Must we?” Her face lifted upward, her lips parting in invitation, offering sweet oblivion.
Attraction sparked to life, and he lowered his head, giving her what she asked for—an all-consuming kiss. Their tongues tangled in a maddening dance as he dragged her against him. Her hands ran up his back, holding him tight, crushing her soft breasts against his chest. Desire flared. He groaned into her mouth. Now. Here. No need to wait until the evening. The chair would do.
“Echem.”
A loud noise intruded. Thornton pulled away, fighting the urge to growl his irritation like a feral beast. Amanda backed away from him quickly, her face aflame.
Black stood in the doorway, his head tipped backward as he stared discreetly at the ceiling. “Next time, lock the door. Please.”
“What?”
“We may have a problem in the laboratory. Two of them.”
“Stop being coy and spit it out,” Thornton growled.
“You indicated both Lady Huntley and Henri were here?”
“Yes.” He glanced at the clock. “They should both be at work.”
Black shook his head. “They’re not. Your technician, Samuel, indicated that they’d left in some haste. Together.” He held out a slip of paper. “Henri left you this note.”
Thornton snatched it from his hand, reading quickly. “It seems Henri’s mother has taken a decided turn for the worse. This is notification that he is taking an indefinite leave of absence.” He looked up. “A note. Why would he leave a note?” He shook his head. “Something is not right. Henri would speak to me first.”
“Lady Huntley?” Amanda asked. “Why would she go with him?”
“No idea.” He grabbed his cane and moved with as much speed as he could manage. Something nagged at the back of his mind as if he was missing some key piece of information. “I need to see the laboratory.”
They arrived en masse and stood, turning slowly. Nothing seemed amiss. In the corner, the latest acoustico patient recovered. By his side was Samuel, the day technician who had reported the odd behaviors of his fellow technicians.
Amanda moved to the laboratory safe where her neurachnid was stored. Her fingers deftly spun the combination. The door swung open. “It’s still here.” Relief colored her voice. She lifted it from the safe and wrapped the neurachnid in a clean linen cloth before pushing it inside her reticule. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to keep it close. The laboratory no longer seemed a secure location.
A frisson of unease ran down his spine. “Lady Huntley assisted Lord Thistleton this morning. They trialed the nerve agent. He left the drug in her care. Where is the vial?”
Amanda’s face paled. “It would be a dark amber vial—or perhaps an opaque green—to protect the drug from light.”
They turned about, searched shelves and cabinets, searched every likely storage. Nothing.
Dread balled in his stomach. “Samuel!” he bellowed. “Did either Henri or Lady Huntley take anything with them from the laboratory?” he asked when the technician stood before him, eyes wary.
Samuel shook his head. “Not that I noticed.” But pockets could be deep. “Neither of them appeared pleased to be leaving,” he continued, looking hurt. “I thought it odd that they left without so much as a word. Usually, I warrant at least a wave.”
Black swore.
“One of them is a double agent,” Thornton stated baldly.
“Henri?” Amanda asked in horror.
“Likely,” Black answered. “And Lady Huntley his hostage.”
“Why not take the neurachnid?” she asked. Then answered her own question. “He had my plans before him all along.”
Thornton nodded. “Henri will have built his own spider, incorporating all our improvements. He had the knowledge and the tools and access to all the necessary pieces. He needed only the nerve agent.”
“But… how?”
“An excellent question.” He narrowed his eyes at Black. “How did Henri pass your background check? You assured me of his trustworthiness.”
“Do not accuse me,” Black shot back. “I stand by my work. You were the one who insisted on bringing a foreign national into this laboratory. Medicine knows no borders, you insisted. I did check. Deeply. Not one single red flag. The man was in deep.” Black stomped across the room. “Let’s go.”
Thornton began to limp behind Black, leaning heavily on the cane. Pain shot upward through his leg with every step. Amanda followed. “No,” Thornton said. “Stay here.”
“Not likely,” she snapped back. “You dragged me into this. I’ll see it finished. Besides, with two top agents beside me, I am doubly safe.”
Thornton glowered.
“Let her come,” Black said. “At the moment, she’s the only objective, clear mind we have.” He stepped from Thornton’s laboratory and began to bark orders to the agents who stood outside the building. A massive manhunt was organized within minutes. Borders. Ports. Airship stations. All were to be on high alert.
But the first order of business would be to search Henri’s quarters.
Thornton watched with annoyance as Black handed Amanda into the crank hackney. It annoyed him that he too required assistance, if only a sharp tug into the vehicle. “If he was indeed as ‘deep’ as you say, what will be left to find?” he grumbled, the moment the crank hackney began to move.
“All spies make mistakes,” Black threw back. “Many have personal weaknesses. Some even let their saviors work in their high security laboratories.”
“Gentlemen!” Amanda yelled. “Focus.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way.
The landlord made a fuss about the invasion, but all objections vanished when Thornton produced several pound notes, and they were allowed to climb the dark stairs to the second floor to Henri’s room. Black bounded upward with Lady Amanda behind him. He followed, struggling to hide the effort each six-inch rise cost him.
All for nothing. Henri’s apartments were stripped bare and completely unremarkable. One large simple room. A mattress on an iron frame. A table and chairs. A wardrobe. A small coal grate.
Disheartened, they began their descent.
“Wait,” Amanda said, pausing at the landlord’s door. She dug into her reticule, producing her own pound note and knocked. The landlord’s eyes grew large at the sight of yet more money. “Did Henri ever have visitors? Or unusual correspondence?”
The man thought hard. “Yes.” He frowned. “One visitor. Once. I didn’t like it. They spoke German. A horrible, guttural language.”
~~~
Wasp had what was necessary now. One final experiment to confirm expectations, a quick detour to do a little gardening, and the return home would be triumphant.
Despite its perception, the last procedure had not been, in fact, a failure. It had served many purposes. It
proved that milligears were necessary to space the multiple insertions of gold wire correctly through the superior orbital fissure. It eliminated Tony and, when the improvements to the spider were viewed in the morgue, it provided Lady Amanda with sufficient inspiration to complete both her work and her sister’s.
Wasp surveyed this newest facility. Barely adequate, but given a rapidly approaching departure, it would suffice.
A quick check of a pocket watch indicated that the last patient would arrive at any moment. Time for final preparations. Wasp reached for the clockwork spider, opening the glass abdominal cavity and carefully filling it with the necessary nerve agent.
Wasp heard rapping at the door.
“Good evening,” Wasp said, swinging the door wide.
“This is the one you wanted?” the man asked, pushing in a bath chair containing Wasp’s newest and unconscious test subject.
“Precisely. If you will help position him on the table…”
Soon the gypsy was stretched across the makeshift operating table, wrists, ankles and waist tightly bound. Head clamped in place.
“That’s it,” the man said. “No more. I’ve done everything you asked. Lady Amanda remains untouched.”
“As promised.” Wasp palmed the transmitter from the tray before turning to walk the man to the door, sliding the device unseen into the man’s coat pocket. “Provided you remain silent.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
CLUTCHING HER RETICULE, Amanda paced the hall waiting for word from Thornton. And Ned. And Emily. All the while, men came and went from Father’s study, dark looks upon their faces. None would look at her, let alone speak to her.
She knew agents combed through London, tracing Henri’s every past move. It was a struggle, to wrap her mind around the idea that she’d known the eye doctor and held him in high esteem. Her stomach churned thinking of all the long hours they’d worked together building the neurachnid. All that time, she’d been assisting a spy. Now Henri possessed everything he needed to connect the artificial eye to the cranial nerves.
Amanda turned on her heel and paced away from the front door. She’d not spent the whole of the afternoon in such a useless fashion. No, she could feel matters coming to a head, and so she’d gathered what resources she could. In her reticule was the neurachnid, a selection of Babbage cards including the one most recently punched by Olivia. Even more importantly, she had a vial of the amatiflora nerve agent.
After Thornton had left her the night before, she’d been unable to rest, unwilling to return to her bed. She’d remained in her laboratory, putting the distillation equipment to work once more. The additional amatiflora essence she’d been able collect was minimal, but now she had a small amount of the necessary drug.
Like talismans, she held these three items tightly. Preparation was always key. If—when—the eye doctor was located, there was always the chance he would be interrupted mid-procedure. She wanted, needed to be ready to offer the victim any assistance she could.
A hue and cry broke out at the front door. Amanda heard a woman’s voice objecting, then pleading with the men Father had stationed outside their town home.
“Let her through!” she yelled, recognizing Emily’s voice.
“She’s gypsy,” one man objected and stepped in front of her to block her progress.
Amanda shoved hard at his chest. “She’s my sister, you idiot, and the gypsies are the ones who’ve taken the brunt of the eye doctor’s horrible experiments. Show some kindness.”
A piercing whistle cut through the commotion. Black, dressed as a gypsy himself, stepped forward. “She’s with me. We’re to see the duke. Step aside.”
A low murmur started through her father’s men, but they parted. Black, it seemed, was well known to them.
Emily rushed forward into Amanda’s arms. “He’s got Luca!” she cried, then began to sob.
Dear God. She held her tight until Emily at last pulled away, tears streaming down her face. “These men won’t tell me anything.” She wept. “Is there any hope?”
Hope of recovering Luca unharmed? Little. “There is every hope the surgery might succeed,” she whispered instead. She helped her sister into the study where Father stood at the far end of the room, surrounded by his men. He turned, and began to make his way to them.
Emily collapsed onto a chair, an arm about her stomach. “But little chance the eye doctor will let him live, even so.” She dissolved once again into tears.
Ned appeared in the doorway, then crossed quickly to their side. “What in all holy hell is going on here?”
“Where have you been?” Amanda demanded. “I wrote to you hours ago.”
He looked back with wide eyes. “It didn’t sound urgent. Mother and Olivia are always in a fit about one thing or another. It’s impossible to keep track as to what—”
The study doors burst open once more. “Traitors,” Thornton said, “everywhere I turn.” He shoved a beaten and bloody man into the room. It took her a moment to recognize him.
“Simon?” Amanda cried.
One eye was swollen shut, but the other seemed to plead with her. Multiple cuts to his lips and face oozed blood. His clothes were torn and stained. His words were garbled and it took her a moment to understand. “I did it for you,” Simon was saying, over and over.
Amanda looked at him in disbelief. “Did what?”
Thornton crossed the room to her side, his gait unsteady. Without a word, he wrapped his arm about her, pulling her tight against him. His lips fell on her hair. “Thank God you’re safe,” he murmured.
She turned her face into his shoulder.
Father cleared his throat.
As if, remembering his location, Thornton released her and stepped several feet away. The loss of his strength and warmth was painful.
“What is the meaning of all this?” Father demanded.
“Your Grace,” Thornton began. “Mr. Sommersby is involved. A transmitter from my laboratory came within range of my agents. Only two such acousticotransmitters are currently in use. They recognized the unauthorized transmission and apprehended him. This was found on Sommersby’s person, in his pocket.” Thornton held up the small device meant to be implanted in an agent’s ear. “He has refused to speak, insisting upon first seeing Lady Amanda, to ensure her safety.”
“You see her now, Sommersby,” Father said. “Speak now and I might let you live.”
Simon lifted his battered face toward her, his one eye full of remorse. “I was used as well, Amanda. Don’t you see?” He stepped toward her.
She stepped backward, shaking her head. “Don’t.”
Thornton had already taken hold of Simon’s shoulder, pinning him to the floor.
“It was Luca or you, Amanda,” Simon whimpered. “I had to choose.”
“You lured Luca to him?” Amanda gasped in sudden understanding. “You know where he is. Tell me. Tell us now!”
All along, Henri had been weaving a web of his own, and Luca was to be the final strand.
“I can’t. I won’t.” Simon’s face fell and he looked away. “At first it was only supplies. A few chemicals. Medical equipment. Then the demands grew.” Mr. Sommersby fell to his knees at her feet. “I had no idea,” he wailed. “None. I love you, Amanda. Please understand, I was given no choice.”
“Enough!” Thornton’s voice cracked through the air. “Your Grace, both my laboratory assistant and your son-in-law, Luca, are missing. With them, the eye doctor has everything he needs to conduct one final experiment. At the moment, I care not about motivation. I wish to locate Henri and stop him before Luca loses an eye. Or his life. We need answers.”
Emily moaned.
“If you care at all for me,” Amanda addressed Mr. Sommersby, doing her best to keep the venom of hate from her voice. They needed his cooperation. “You will tell me where to find Henri. Where to find Luca and Lady Huntley.”
Simon shook his head. “I can’t. I won’t.”
An
agent strode into the room and whispered in Black’s ear.
“We’ve found him,” Black announced, yanking Simon to his feet. “A pathetic spy you’d make, Sommersby,” he said. “The crank hackney you used was all too easy to find, the driver all too eager to talk. We’ve no further need of you.” He shoved him in the direction of Father’s men. “Do what you will,” Black said, then turned toward Thornton. “Let’s go.”
Amanda started to follow them.
Her father objected. “Stay here, Amanda.”
Thornton put his arm about her. “No. She comes. We might need her expertise. I might need her assistance if,” he glanced in Emily’s direction, “there is a medical situation.”
“You would put her safety at risk?” Father asked Thornton.
“I am needed,” Amanda countered. She could speak for herself. “I will follow, with or without your agreement.”
Father regarded them with a long steady stare, then nodded. “Fine. Go.”
They followed Black who had already exited and was barking orders to his men.
“When we arrive, Amanda, stay close,” Thornton said as they followed. “East London is no place for a lady.”
She glanced at his leg, worried. He was leaning heavily on his cane and limping. Time was running short for too many people.
Chapter Thirty-Three
THORNTON PINCHED THE bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. To think he’d been so thoroughly manipulated, so many lives ruined. When had it all started? When John packed the phaoscope prototype in his trunk? When the air pirates attacked? Thornton’s escape from that dirigible had been all too easy; had he been purposefully spared? Had Henri already been waiting on the ground below?
The crank hackney jerked to a halt. They’d arrived. The indicated warehouse squatted beside the Thames, it’s dark windows giving it a hollow-eyed look. Wincing, he climbed down and assisted Amanda onto the cobblestone street.
Black took one look at Thornton, at his leg, and shook his head. “Stay here. You’ll only be in the way.” Without a backward glance, he directed their agents into the building.