The Dark Matters Quartet

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The Dark Matters Quartet Page 46

by Claire Robyns


  She couldn’t contain a grin as the euphoria struck again. “I still cannot believe we did it.”

  “We almost didn’t,” Ana reminded her.

  “Our plan had a few bumps,” Lily conceded, “but in the end everything worked out.”

  “The plan failed dismally.” Ana crossed to the window and drew the drapes. “Not a single part of it went as expected.”

  “Except for my faith in you!” Lily washed a bite of pastry down with hot chocolate. “You were brilliant, Ana.”

  “Thank you, but with the odds so greatly in Timothkin’s favour, I must deduce our success was due to luck rather than my brilliance.” Ana turned, hands folded in front of her.

  Blonde curls escaped from Ana’s bonnet, framing a pretty face. Her eyes were a striking, if unnatural, blue made of fibrous glass and spring-loaded to move independently of each other. The quality of her celluloid skin, real hair and ivory teeth gave her a near-human appearance. The memory sap circulating inside her metal chest enabled her to mimic human behaviour so closely, Lily oftentimes forgot Ana was a machine. But not even a highly advanced celludrone like Ana, one of only two in the world, could mimic well enough to allow emotion to overrule fact.

  The fact being: Lily had almost died last night. Her entire plan had hinged on trapping Timothkin in the rune to bind and keep, rendering it defenceless and powerless. When that had failed, she’d had no alternate recourse on hand. Her efforts to engage the demon in a fight had been pathetic.

  “You’re absolutely right,” she told Ana. “Last night, we relied too heavily on the mercy of Lady Luck.”

  Ana knew her too well. “And you intend to ensure next time will be different.” She stared at Lily for a full minute, processing. “I’m unable to compute. How will you ensure that?”

  “With my usual efficiency,” Lily declared. “I still need to determine the best method of breaking our news,” she added when Ana made to speak, no doubt to question deeper. “Greyston is not going to be impressed, and as for Lord Perth—” Lily stopped short, her mind suddenly miles away.

  After Ana’s life cell had been damaged and her memory partially scrambled, she’d taken to dropping the formality when addressing certain individuals, such as Greyston. Lily had been meaning to re-establish the proper boundaries, a simple reminder or instruction was all it would take, but now she knew why she’d never got around to it. There wasn’t enough time in her private life anymore, no longer space in her heart, for all the strict protocols of society.

  “Lord Perth will be furious,” Ana concluded. “He insisted the demon was a valuable source of information and under no circumstances to be banished. Lord Perth is not a man to be defied.”

  When Ana made statements like that, it was more than an observation. It was an analysis of every detail she’d ever assimilated about the topic, in this instance the subject being Kelan McAllister, and her deduction would be one hundred percent accurate.

  “Kelan will be furious,” Lily corrected. “There’s no reason we cannot use his name when we speak amongst ourselves.”

  “As you wish,” Ana said, turning her attention out the window again.

  Lily nibbled on a honey and cinnamon pastry while she contemplated the unavoidable confrontation with the man she’d dared to defy. “Thank goodness he’s in Clitheroe for another day or so.”

  “No…he isn’t.”

  Lily blinked. “Have we had word from him, then?”

  Ana was still peering outside. “Not that I’m aware of, but Kelan has just arrived. In that hackney carriage.”

  Lily jolted, almost upsetting the tray on her lap. “What on earth?”

  She set aside the tray and slid from beneath the covers, her nerves slightly shaken. Perched on the edge of the bed, she took a moment to draw a deep, fortifying breath. I don’t regret banishing Timothkin and I’m certainly not afraid of Kelan!

  On that thought, she joined Ana by the window. Just in time to see Kelan striding up the path, his hat angled over the long layers of his coal-black hair and a leather satchel tucked under one arm. He carried such an air of confidence about him, the arrogant grace of a damned angel who’d destroy heaven and hell before admitting his will and way might not be the only path to the redemption of mankind.

  Lily sighed. Perhaps she was a little afraid of the man, of that iron-will that would bend for naught, least of all the wife who’d been foisted upon him.

  Lily stepped away from the window and set her shoulders back. For good measure, she lifted her chin high. He couldn’t kill her. The McAllisters needed her almost as much as the world needed them. If not more.

  With Ana’s help, she hurried through her morning ritual. When she heard a noise coming from the master bedroom, she refused to hesitate before knocking on the inter-leading door and entering. But it was only the footman, Andrew, with Kelan’s luggage. The temporary reprieve released a breath she shouldn’t have been holding: this was not a good sign. When it came to Kelan, she had to take the high ground from the start, or she’d get washed away in the flood. She had no guilt. No regret.

  Lily’s jaw was set in a tight grimace as she made her way downstairs. If only she’d had time to speak with Greyston first, gained his support for a united front. He’d sided with Kelan on her argument to banish Timothkin, but that allegiance was a new, fragile thing. Most of Greyston’s outrage would stem from Lily going after the demon without him. His misgivings would largely centre on her safety. Well, here she was, unharmed and perfectly safe.

  Winning Greyston over was highly achievable, and he was—usually—a formidable opponent to anything McAllister.

  She’d reached the bottom of the stairs, when a muffled sound paused her. The steps turned a corner and continued on behind the door that closed off the lower floor from the entrance hall, and that’s where the sound had come from. Not a particularly jarring sound, but certainly out of place.

  Instead of stepping out into the entrance hall, Lily pushed through the door and descended the service stairway. She wasn’t delaying the confrontation with Kelan, she reassured herself. In a world where demons existed, surely nothing, not even the slightest oddity, should be dismissed?

  Another sound, this time a definite shriek, hastened her pace along the narrow passage, past the Butler’s Pantry and through a swing door into the kitchen. The sight that greeted her was almost amusing. The housekeeper, Mrs. Jenkins, stood with her back pressed to the wall and her hands raised in front of her, as if to ward off the devil himself. Except, the only thing that stood between her and escape seemed to be Neco.

  “Calm yourself,” Mr. Hamilton was saying in a soothing voice. He’d taken up a defensive stance before the ovens. Cowering behind his tall frame were the scullery maid and one of the downstairs maids. “I’ve never known screaming to do much good.”

  “Don’t preach to me,” screeched Mrs. Jenkins. Her eyes were miniature saucers in a face paler than a set of Bone China dinnerware and never once deviated from Neco, who was slowly retreating around the massive oak table.

  As Lily took in the scene, she had a horrid feeling about what had gone wrong. Not only were Ana and Neco the only advanced celludrones ever manufactured, their very existence was by and large a secret. Kelan’s uncle, Duncan McAllister, had created them to form his original army against demons, before he’d scrapped that plan and infected innocent children with demon blood instead.

  Kelan had warned them his London household was unaware of his extracurricular activities, that Ana and Neco would need to masquerade as average servant celludrones.

  Not much of a challenge for Ana, who was accustomed to imitating the hollow machines that could only follow direct, unambiguous commands. But Neco had been exposed to a wider world with Greyston. He’d watched, seen, heard and learnt much more, his free-minded opinions and actions never discouraged. In short, Neco was simply more human than Ana.

  Lily stepped deeper into the kitchen, clapping her hands once to bring attention to her presence. �
��What is the meaning of this ruckus?” she said loudly, using the most imperious tone she could muster.

  Mrs. Jenkins’ wide-eyed gaze shot to her. “Run, m’lady,” she screamed. “Flee while you can!” Her arms were still raised in front of her, and now she made the cross of Christ with her fingers.

  “I beg your pardon, m’lady,” Mr. Hamilton said, inching forward from his position at the ovens. “The poor woman is out of her mind and will not be soothed. If you return upstairs, I’ll be up to see to your needs at once. There’s no reason for you to witness this commotion.”

  Lily waved his concerns aside. “I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Hamilton, but perhaps Mrs. Jenkins would prefer to retire to her parlour until we resolve the issue. Neco,” she said, gesturing at the celludrone, “please come and stand here, on my other side.”

  Mrs. Jenkins lost no time in scurrying past as soon as the path between her and the door was clear, shooting Neco an evil look and muttering about dark spirits and demons as she went.

  “What demon?” Neco stepped in front of Lily, shielding her between his large body and the wall. “Where?”

  Which rather confirmed her suspicions.

  Mrs. Jenkins jumped, let out a particularly piercing scream, and tore out the kitchen as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.

  The maids hiding at Mr. Hamilton’s back squeaked and grabbed onto the tails of his coat.

  Lily squeezed out from behind Neco. “There are no demons,” she told him gently. She was not about to explain Mrs. Jenkins had been referring to him. She looked across to the butler and said a little more sternly, “There are no demons here and no evil spirits. Absolutely nothing is amiss. Mr. Hamilton, please be so kind as to reassure the girls while I have a word with Neco.”

  “Yes, of course, m’lady.”

  While Mr. Hamilton turned to address the frightened girls, Lily stepped outside the kitchen with Neco.

  “What happened in there?” she said in a low voice. “You know you’re not supposed to say or do anything without a direct instruction.”

  “Protecting you from demons is more important.”

  Lily nodded. “But something must have happened before any mention of demons, Neco. What did you do that upset Mrs. Jenkins so?”

  “I spared her from a fall,” Neco said. “Mrs. Jenkins was carrying a tray of tea when she slipped and had no hands free to steady herself. I caught her before she went down and saved the tray. She gasped, as if in pain, and there was a forty-three percent probability she had twisted her ankle, so I asked if she was hurt and needed help.” Neco stared at the wall blankly for the count of three. “I’m sorry, Lady Lily. I should have done nothing and let Mrs. Jenkins fall. I shouldn’t have enquired after her ankle.” Another silence, then his eyes returned to Lily. “Mrs. Jenkins is a good woman. That pot of hot tea would have scalded her. Grey wouldn’t have ignored her. It’s not what he would want me to do. It’s not what I should have done.”

  “That is exactly what you should…” Lily realised what she was saying. She stared up at Neco, a giant of a man constructed from metal and celluloid, and in possession of a bigger simulated heart than her real one felt right now.

  Duncan McAllister hadn’t just created advanced machines with his memory sap technology; he’d created a form of particularly human-like life and with that came the flaws. Most humans would not blindly follow orders with complete disregard for the consequences. How could she, how could Kelan, how dare any of them expect different from Neco and Ana?

  “That is exactly what you should not have done,” Lily said. “You’ve nothing to apologise for and we both know Greyston would agree. Would you please fetch Ana? She should be in my bedroom.”

  Lily spun from him, pressed her palm to the kitchen door and pushed through without so much as a twinge of doubt about this spontaneous turn of her mind. The more reckless one acted, it seemed, the more natural it became.

  She asked Mr. Hamilton to assemble all the staff downstairs at once and then she went in search of Mrs. Jenkins. The Housekeeper’s Parlour was also her place of business, so when Lily’s knock received no answer, she simply walked straight inside. The room was empty, but the door leading to the bedroom at the back stood open, and it was there she found Mrs. Jenkins hastily shoving her belongings into an enormous trunk.

  “My goodness,” Lily exclaimed. “Surely you’re not leaving. Where will you go?”

  “I’d as soon sleep under the park bench as share a roof with the devil’s handiwork, God help us all.”

  “Neco is an advanced celludrone. What you witnessed was the result of fabricated intelligence.”

  Mrs. Jenkins crossed her heart and packed faster.

  “There’s nothing ominous about fabricated intelligence. All it means is that Neco is a… a thinking machine,” Lily simplified.

  “Nothing ominous!” huffed Mrs. Jenkins. “Forgive my impertinence, m’lady, but have you considered what you’re saying? Machines do not think. ‘Tis unnatural and evil.”

  Lily threw her hands up. “Neco tried to help you.”

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “But so does the devil. I’d as soon break my neck as—”

  “—accept help from the devil,” Lily finished with a groan, resigning herself to defeat. The woman’s eternal soul had condemned poor Neco and no amount of coaxing or scientific explanation would persuade her otherwise.

  Mr. Hamilton was waiting for her in the passage.

  “I’m afraid Mrs. Jenkins is leaving us,” Lily told him as they walked together.

  He nodded grimly. “Is that why you wanted to address the staff?”

  “Not precisely, although I will need to inform them of that as well.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Mr. Hamilton, there is something you should know about Neco and Ana.”

  “Would this have to do with their memory sap and enhanced abilities?” Mr. Hamilton met her look of surprise with a dour expression. “His lordship apprised me of the situation before he departed for Clitheroe.”

  “Lord Perth told you?”

  “He anticipated an incident, in which he wasn’t wrong, and he thought your ladyship might appreciate my expertise if, and when, the occasion arose.”

  Lily’s brows drew tight. “How incredibly thoughtful of him.”

  He knew Neco might fail and he didn’t trust me to manage his household in a satisfactory manner!

  They were nearing the kitchen and Lily increased her pace, her spine rigid and bristling. “None of which would have been necessary, of course, if we’d just told everyone the truth from the start.”

  Mr. Hamilton stopped dead, which wouldn’t have been a problem, except he’d done so right in front of her.

  “What is it, Mr. Hamilton?”

  He cleared his throat. “Do you think that wise, m’lady?”

  “The truth will always prevail over secrets and lies.” The profound hypocrisy, considering the life she was currently leading, did naught to improve her mood. She frowned up at him. “Look at you, Mr. Hamilton. You know about them and seem fine with it.”

  “Look at Mrs. Jenkins.”

  “You,” Lily pressed on, “aren’t warding off evil spirits and threatening to leave.”

  “But Mrs. Jenkins is.”

  “Fine, I do see your point, but we may not have a choice. Mrs. Jenkins wasn’t the only one to witness Neco’s strange behaviour.”

  “I removed Caroline and Frannie to the Butler’s Pantry before assembling the rest of the staff,” Mr. Hamilton said. “They haven’t had the opportunity to speak with anyone.”

  “Quick thinking, Mr. Hamilton.” She gave the man a well-deserved smile. “However, we cannot keep them isolated forever.”

  Mr. Hamilton simply looked at her, not unlike Neco when he was processing… Oh! She was the one supposed to be processing.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are not suggesting we let Caroline and Frannie go, through no fault of their own.”

 
; “In all fairness, m’lady, I doubt either of them intend to stay.”

  “And what about the tales they take with them?”

  “If they have any sensibility,” Mr. Hamilton said, “they’ll know to keep their mouths firmly closed. I intend to remind them future employers will not take on a maid who ‘sees’ demon spirits.”

  Lily couldn’t quite believe this conversation. Then again, she reminded herself, this was Kelan’s home. Why shouldn’t McAllister mentality abound?

  “What about the next time?” she demanded. “Do we simply continue to dismiss anyone who stumbles upon the truth until no one is left?”

  To his credit, Mr. Hamilton did ponder this a short while before continuing. “There may not necessarily be anyone left at all after today if you tell them.”

  “At the very least, that will be their decision and not ours,” she said firmly, although she hoped for far more than that.

  This was 1853, for goodness sake, not the dark ages. It wasn’t as if people couldn’t wrap their minds around the science of advanced celludrones, especially when introduced correctly with a detailed explanation and, perhaps, a small demonstration from Ana and Neco.

  Mrs. Jenkins, Caroline and Frannie were an exception; they’d been shocked out of their wits.

  A quarter hour later, her optimism severely dampened, Lily filed past the staff members—she counted seven, and that excluded Mrs. Jenkins and the other two maids—lined up by Mr. Hamilton’s door to collect their final wage packet and ‘excellent reference without prejudice.’

  She climbed the steps with slow reluctance, her mind weighted with all the regrets she did not have. London was safer without a demon walking the streets. Lark House was a better place for Neco and Ana, for everyone, even with the temporary staff shortage.

  No regrets, but that did not mean she looked forward to informing her husband she’d banished his demon and broken his household.

 

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