Clockwork Image
Page 12
Perhaps he should ask the doctor to pose for him sometime; her facial expressions were not as open as most of his subjects and it would indubitably make for an interesting study.
“I will be frank,” the ambassador said, not acknowledging the other members of the group. “I have come tonight in the hopes that we could further our conversation.”
“I have said all I intend to say.” Even Doctor Hopkins’ tone was icy. “Now, I must say that I am feeling rather tired.”
Captain Hopkins jumped into action as though the earth was about to open up and eat them all whole. He called for one servant to bring his motorcar around and to another to bring his gloves and Doctor Hopkins’ wrap. Clearly, he was a man intent on keeping his expectant wife comfortable. Though Jasper was unsure if the doctor was of a truth worn out, or if she was just wanting to get away from the ambassador.
And what had the two argued about? Jasper doubted that whatever conversation they’d had in the past had gone pleasantly.
Both Captain and Doctor Hopkins were gone almost immediately and Tressa and Brox slipped after them saying they wanted to see their friends to the door.
Mrs. Hedgecock slipped up equally fast. “Ambassador Leng,” she said almost reverentially. “It is a profound honor, sir.”
Mrs. Hedgecock’s surprised expression was apt. Having an ambassador attend one of his shows was rather a coup. Jasper had only just gained enough popularity that a few of England’s most titled individuals had come tonight, but he never dreamed an ambassador from China would come.
The ambassador smiled down at Jasper’s agent as though he knew exactly how honored they should feel at his presence.
“May I introduce to you Jasper Wimple,” she said. “Creator and artist of all you see here tonight.”
Of course, he hadn’t come for Jasper’s art, but for Doctor Hopkins—curiosity continued to swirl inside his brainbox. It was a blasted shame that etiquette wouldn’t allow him to pry.
“The artist?” Ambassador Leng said. “I might have known. You are a man after my own heart, then. I believe art is life—and without it, all would shrivel and die.”
Jasper wasn’t the only one in the room who knew how to flatter it would seem. “I couldn’t agree more.” Though Jasper doubted they truly saw eye to eye on art. For Jasper, art was about humanity and beauty and not at all about opulence or showing off one’s wealth.
Plus, a head ache was coming on. Stupid wine. “You know, ambassador,” Jasper said. “One of the things I love most about art is it’s ability to communicate without me having to be there to explain.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“A well composed piece may take me days or even weeks to finish. But once I’m done with it I can place it down, walk away, and know it will impact those who see it. Through it, I can extend my reach. I can touch those who would not otherwise listen to me, and I can do it all while working on the next piece.”
“The next masterpiece, I am sure.”
Oh, the ambassador was laying it on thick. Why did the man suddenly care to make a good impression on Jasper? It wasn’t as though Jasper was in a position of power. He didn’t like the way the ambassador was smiling. Drastically different than the little woman at Jasper’s door earlier that evening, the ambassador’s wrinkles were not cheery, but appeared to have been etched in cold calculations.
“I am glad you understand,” Jasper said. “For I am sure you will understand when I say, please enjoy all I have to say”—Jasper spread is arms out—“and I will bid you a good evening.”
Jasper’s announcement that he was leaving caused Mrs. Hedgecock’s brow to drop into a hard line. With a look like that, he was fairly sure she was dreaming up all the ways she could harm him, but he would smooth things over with her later. He needed to leave. His head hurt, he’d glad-handed everyone in the room, and his gut was telling him to stay far, far away from the ambassador.
“Perhaps we shall met again during my brief stay in your beautiful country,” the ambassador bowed.
“I look forward to it.” Which was about as big a lie as Jasper could ever remember saying. He made his way toward the door, then stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
Ambassador Leng was watching him closely even while speaking with one of his entourage.
Jasper’s stomach pricked. Having grown up in Westwood Orphanage—which was to say he’d grown up unsupervised and with little more than street smarts to keep himself safe—Jasper knew when he was looking at trouble.
The ambassador was certainly dark trouble of the worst kind.
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Other Books By
L. G. Rollins
Steam and Shadow Series
Stolen Bloodline
Clockwork Image
Waltz of the Crows
Buried In Blue
Masked By Moonlight (available at LGRollins.com)
Zaad Stone Series
Shadows of Angels
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Thank you to all those who have helped me with Clockwork Image.
A special thank you goes to my loyal readers, especially the Write With Me participants—this book is better for you input. Thank you to those who have helped make this manuscript a beautiful book: my cover artist, Les, and my line editor, Jen Proctor.
My husband, as always, has helped with many a late night writing sprints, and all the emotional ups and downs that come along with this whole process.
Thank you.
For L. G. Rollins, conversations regarding Schrodinger’s cat, the effects of scientific advancements on politics, and whether Infinity is better categorized as a number or an idea are all quite commonplace. To be short, she is an unapologetic nerd. Mix in her love of whimsy and the unusual, and you get Steam and Shadow, a steampunk series of science, sweet romance, and unexpected adventures.
Follow along on all the adventures, visit:
WEBSITE: LGRollins.com
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