Beauty and the Clockwork Beast

by Nancy Allen Campbell

  Miles announced that he had to return to Charlesworth House to help Eustace handle affairs, and Lucy decided to accompany him now that the danger to Kate had passed. Daniel set the course for the airship, leaving Oliver and Sam behind to watch over Blackwell Manor.

  Charlesworth House was still ablaze with lights when they arrived. Not only was the local constabulary investigating, but they had also alerted the Scottish authorities who specialized in vampire attacks. Lucy listened in on the proceedings in the library, her head resting on Daniel’s shoulder as Miles relayed the events of the evening to the gathered officials.

  Lucy felt her eyelids droop, and Daniel squeezed her shoulder.

  “You should rest,” he murmured. “I’ll walk you up to your room.” Lucy caught Miles’s eye. He looked as exhausted as she felt, and she wished they were far away from everyone and everything.

  A maid helped Lucy wash and change into nightclothes. She waited until the maid left before procuring a small torch. She was tired but she knew she couldn’t rest until she found the elusive diary the Charlesworth siblings had argued over, and doing so while Miles was occupied elsewhere was her best chance.

  She made her way to the family’s bedchambers at the other end of the long hallway. The bloody mess inside Candice’s room had been only perfunctorily cleaned, as a dark stain extended from under the closed door and out onto the hallway carpet.

  With a shudder, she continued past it to Arthur’s room, where she twisted the knob, fully expecting to find it locked. It turned in her hand, and her heart sank. Had Candice found the diary before leaving the house with Kate? Surely she hadn’t had enough time.

  Lucy closed the door behind her and stood at the threshold, her eyes adjusting to the shadows of the room. In her earlier search, she’d not come across anything resembling a diary. She crossed to a small desk near one of the windows and sat in the chair. There were three drawers, each of which held paper and a couple of writing instruments but nothing else.

  She turned around in the chair and examined the room, trying to see it with fresh eyes. The room was still neat as a pin, evidence that Candice had not had time to look for the diary. Lucy looked at the portrait of Arthur still hanging over the mantelpiece. Ridiculous and horribly sad. He was gone and had expired in such a horrifying manner. He had been a cad, had assaulted her mere hours before, but she still mourned the loss of a young life wasted.

  That portrait . . .

  On impulse, she rose and went to the painting, lifting it slightly and shining her torch behind it. With a grim smile of triumph, she reached forward and carefully untied a string that anchored a small, black book to the portrait’s hanging wire. She held the book to her chest and quietly made her way out of the room and back to her own.

  Lighting her bedside lamp, she climbed up on the mattress with a groan. There wasn’t a movement she made that wasn’t painful, and she wondered if she’d ever feel normal again. Situating herself against the fluffy pillows, she pulled the blanket over her legs and opened the book.

  Seeing Marie’s neat, flourished handwriting on the front flyleaf was jarring, as though she were experiencing a visit from beyond the grave. Marie’s own pen had touched the pages, and Lucy lost herself in the musings, daydreams, and wishes of a young woman of privilege who was navigating her place in the world. Unable to inherit, she felt displaced from the estate, and a string of suitors proved so unsatisfactory that she eventually decided to be done with the lot of them and set up her own home in one of her mother’s former estates.

  It was toward the end of the diary that Lucy found the passages that the Charlesworth siblings had valued. Marie suspected Clara was being poisoned, and as much as she faulted the girl for being such a ninny, she didn’t want to see her murdered. She had made a list of possible suspects, Candice first among them.

  Lucy wondered why Candice hadn’t simply burned the diary, but as she continued turning pages, she found reference to what Arthur had said about the book containing evidence against Miles.

  Marie had known that Miles was a shape-shifter, and she had written that she wished he would have confided in her, that she knew he carried the heavy burden alone. Lucy’s eyes filmed over with tears, the beautiful script blurring as she read the words of tender affection from a sister to her beloved elder brother.

  A quiet knock sounded on her bedchamber door, and before she could answer it, Miles cracked it open and peered inside.

  “Why aren’t you asleep?” He closed the door quietly and stood just inside the room, jacket off, shirt wrinkled and filthy, cravat long gone.

  “I had to find something first.” She patted the bed and motioned with her head.

  He tossed the jacket onto a nearby chair and rolled up his cuffs as he slowly approached. His eye caught on the book she held, and his mouth dropped open. “You went looking for that infernal diary alone? Lucy, for the love! You were supposed to wait for me.”

  She smiled. “I didn’t want to wait. Come here. There are some things you need to read.”

  He shot her a look of frustration, but he pulled his boots off and settled down next to her. He sighed and swung his legs up onto the duvet. He placed his arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her close. “I should have dragged you to the vicar on the way back tonight. I don’t suppose I shall sleep well again until we are married. Where did you find the diary?”

  “In Arthur’s bedroom.” She handed him the black book. “I’ll give you some space to read it. I believe you’ll find it of great value.”

  “Stay here. Don’t leave me.” He held her close against him and flipped open the book. She knew the moment when he realized the enormity of what he held in his hand with his sharp intake of breath. He closed the cover and set it on his leg. “I cannot read this. Not right now.”

  “Will you read one small segment?” She reached for the book, and he handed it back to her. She opened it to the end and held it up for him to see.

  “Just read it to me.”

  She looked at him to see he’d closed his eyes. Lucy paused. “Miles, I am sorry. This seemed like the right notion a moment ago, but it can wait.”

  “No,” he said, squeezing her shoulder with his hand. “I want to hear it.”

  She read aloud what Marie had written about Miles, emotion thick in her throat as she glanced at him and saw a single tear escape his closed eyes and roll down the scar that she never really noticed anymore. When she finished, she closed the book and shifted in the circle of his arm, wiping the tear from his face and placing a kiss on it.

  “She was an amazing woman,” Lucy said. “And I do believe she adored you.”

  Miles finally opened his eyes. “She was amazing. I miss her terribly. I can never apologize enough for what my family has put you through, Lucy. When I realized you were on the roof with Candice . . .” He shrugged, his eyes glistening. “I would have given my life to keep you safe. You’re the best, most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.”

  He sat up and took Lucy’s face in his hands. “You are a miracle. My miracle.” He kissed her, and she decided that finding a vicar—and soon—might be a good thing.

  The wedding was a lavish affair, lavish but tasteful, and Lucy was satisfied with the results. Their loved ones were in attendance for the intimate ceremony, followed by a grand reception to feed and entertain all of London. Miles had rolled his eyes at the extent to which she’d taken the festivities, but it was her only wedding, she’d told him, and she meant to do it right. Besides, he’d insisted she arrange it in less than a month, so he had no room to complain.

  She had to admit her motives weren’t entirely pure. She fully intended to launch her husband into polite society and demand that they accept him. She would die before she saw him snubbed ever again, and heaven help the person who did it in her presence. In truth, the enormity of the celebration was for him; she had definitely made her poin
t.

  Miles had invited Eustace to the ceremony and told Lucy that perhaps they should extend an invitation for her to visit after their honeymoon. Lucy readily agreed. The poor woman was still reeling from shock, to the point that she’d lost an alarming amount of weight and looked rather gaunt.

  Kate and Jonathan had moved into a small estate thirty minutes away, and Kate had been ecstatic to turn over the reins of Blackwell Manor to Lucy. She said she was looking forward to managing a smaller home and grateful they would still live close by.

  Hazel Hughes was in attendance and seemed to be healing well from her injuries sustained during the vampire attack. Lucy regretted that they didn’t have more time to talk and obtained a promise from the young woman that she would visit Blackwell, hopefully for an extended stay. Lucy took note of what she thought was a fair measure of tension she couldn’t quite define between Hazel and Sam and filed it away mentally for later perusal.

  Since the attack at the lodge, Daniel had checked in repeatedly with Lucy as if assuring himself she was still alive. He promised a vacation with her and Miles as soon as he could manage the time away from his business. Lucy worried quietly about him but finally accepted the fact that he would come to her in time, if at all. His demons were his own to work through, she supposed, although it bothered her like a rock in her shoe that she wasn’t able to fix everything for him.

  Sam kept close watch on Miles, insisting on routine maintenance checks for the heartclock.

  Oliver busied himself with work—a “secret project” that Lucy suspected involved finding his errant brother. The guilt he felt for the whole of Miles’s troubles was tremendous, although Miles told him repeatedly that it wasn’t his fault. Oliver had left the wedding reception early, telling Miles it was for business. A “do-gooder” woman, he said, was in the thick of the debate on repealing the Predatory Shifter Extermination Act, and his superiors wanted him to handle it with a measure of “discretion.”

  For her part, Lucy was glad to hear that someone was in the thick of the debate. The sooner the act was repealed, the sooner she would sleep at night knowing Miles was safe from legalized extermination. It didn’t sit well with her at all that the vampire who created Candice was at large and likely knew of Miles’s condition.

  Once dinner had wound down and Lucy had shaken more hands than she could count, Miles whisked her away to the airfield, barely allowing her time to hug family and friends on her way out. They were spending the night at the manor before leaving the following morning, and while she found it odd, he had insisted.

  Lucy stood before the mirror in the bedroom that was now officially hers, examining her beautiful wedding ensemble once more before ringing for a maid to help her undress. After returning to Blackwell Manor from Charlesworth House, Lucy had reinstalled the original punch cards for the ’tons, and she intended to reprogram each and every one of them with some pleasant personality traits after her honeymoon.

  Miles had made it clear that he didn’t care which bed they slept in but that they would spend the night together, each night, for the rest of their lives. She smiled, grateful that the nightmares were lessening. She no longer saw Candice in her sleep, no longer feared for her life, or Kate’s.

  The night after she had given Miles the diary, she had awoken to see Marie sitting in the chair beside her bed, watching her. The light was on but turned low, and Lucy blinked, gathering her bearings.

  Marie smiled gently, and Lucy had returned it, wishing more than anything that she could hear the woman talk, if only once.

  “I will take good care of your brother,” Lucy whispered, her eyes burning at the loss of what would have been a warm friendship with Miles’s sister.

  Thank you. For everything.

  It wasn’t audible, but Lucy heard it clearly. And then Marie Blake was gone.

  A quiet knock on the door pulled Lucy from the memory, and Miles entered, still in his wedding finery. She cocked a brow in surprise as he approached to stand behind her.

  “I thought you were changing your clothes,” she said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She couldn’t help but laugh at the image reflected in the mirror. “I should be taller,” she said. “You are enormous, my lord.”

  He rested his chin atop her head. “You are perfect, my lady. And I have something I want to show you.” He led her out of her chambers to the main hallway and down to the double doors that opened into the ballroom.

  “Cover your eyes,” he said.

  She complied, and as she heard him turning the door handle, the soft strains of a waltz spilled gently into the hallway. He led her into the ballroom and then whispered, “Open.”

  The ballroom sparkled and gleamed, chandeliers polished and wall frescoes restored. She placed her hand on her chest, completely overwhelmed. “Oh, Miles.”

  “We were interrupted the last time we were in here,” he said, and for a moment, he looked the slightest bit uncertain. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s breathtaking,” she said, her eyes stinging. “Absolutely beautiful.”

  “Lady Lucy Elizabeth Pickett Blake, Countess of Blackwell,” he said with a brief bow over her hand, “may I have this dance?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” She dipped into a curtsey with a smile.

  He pulled her close and swept her onto the floor, and she felt as though she were flying.

  “Thank you,” he said to her quietly.

  She looked at him in question.

  “For saving me.”

  My heart is full at seeing this book in print. It was a long road to this point, and I am grateful to so many people. To my agent, Pamela Howell, for taking me on and believing in the book. To Pam (again) and Bob DiForio, my everlasting thanks for navigating the publishing waters for me. To Lisa Mangum, Heidi Taylor, Chris Schoebinger, and everyone at Shadow Mountain—the day you told me you loved this book was one of the best days of my life. I am so happy you saw the potential in it, and I’m so grateful for my association with you.

  Thanks always to my writing support groups for the brainstorming and retreats—specifically to the Bear Lake Monsters and Goldenpens. My work is better because of my association with you, and I cherish those friendships.

  To Josi S. Kilpack (Forever and Forever) and Jennifer Moore (Lady Helen Finds Her Song), your love, support, and shared tears over the past three years have sustained me and kept me writing. All the thanks in the world will never be enough. I love you both dearly.

  To my family and Mark’s, for their unflagging love and support. I am so humbly grateful. Words aren’t enough, and that probably says something, coming from a person who makes her living by them. I love you, each of you, and hope to always make you proud.

  Last but not least, my love, devotion, and profound gratitude to my husband and children. They have been in the trenches with me, have witnessed the joys and frustrations, and have shored me up continually. My life is full and good because they are in it, and nothing I do would mean half as much if I couldn’t share it with them. I am richly blessed, and so grateful.

  1.The original “Beauty and the Beast” fairy tale was published in the mideighteenth century. Why does this particular story have such lasting appeal? What elements of the fairy tale are present in Beauty and the Clockwork Beast? Where do the two stories diverge?

  2.Steampunk is a specific genre that blends a classic setting with steam-powered or gear-powered technology. What other steampunk novels have you read? In what ways did the steampunk elements in the story help establish the setting, develop the characters, or advance the plot? What was your favorite steampunk invention?

  3.Lucy is one of the few female botanists studying the vampire problem and looking for a solution, though she does not seem bothered at being a minority in her profession. How is her situation similar to modern-day experiences? Discuss how society is currently encouraging women to pursue pr
ofessions in math and science.

  4.Lucy and Kate, though cousins, have a family relationship that is more like sisters. How does that relationship sustain the women over the course of the story? Miles and the Charlesworth siblings are also cousins, but they have a much different relationship. Discuss how family relationships—either in a close family or an extended family—can influence you positively or negatively.

  5.Miles’s bond with Oliver, Sam, and Daniel was forged during war. Is enduring a dangerous experience the only way to strengthen a relationship? What other ways can you develop a lasting friendship? How did you meet your best friend?

  6.Marie’s ghost cannot rest until Lucy solves the mystery behind her murder and Clara’s murder. Do you believe that those who have passed are able to return for important reasons or to seek justice? Do you have any personal experiences with ghosts?

  7.Who did you suspect was the murderer? What clues did you see in the book that supported your suspicions?

  Nancy Campbell Allen is the author of twelve published novels, which span genres from contemporary romantic suspense to historical fiction. In 2005, her work won the Utah Best of State award. She has presented at numerous writing conferences and events since her first book was released in 1999. Nancy received a BS in Elementary Education from Weber State University. She loves to read, write, travel, and research, and enjoys spending time laughing with family and friends. She is married and the mother of three children.

  Lady Marie Blake stepped into the apothecary shop, shaking her umbrella and then removing the hood of her cloak. The rain in Coleshire had been relentless for two weeks—not altogether odd in the springtime, but irksome nonetheless. Marie’s patience ran short regarding things over which she had no control.