by A. W. Exley
Amy took her pulse and then placed Cara’s hand back in her lap. “Your pulse is strong and the baby has moved while you were out. I think perhaps you are overexerting yourself.”
“Nonsense. It was just all the excitement, and then I stood up too fast and the room was too hot.” She held the glass to her forehead and inhaled. The air was no longer stuffy and tinged with sweat.
“You need to think of the baby, Cara. You cannot continue running around as you did before you conceived. You don’t have long to go now, and it would be far better if you were quiet for the next few weeks.” Amy had her arms crossed and a stern look on her face.
Everyone around Cara looked grim, as though she lingered on her death bed. Loki had a rare serious expression and Miguel’s young face was lined with worry. Nate tried to keep a tight valve on their connection, but his concern leaked through along with his unconditional love. She reached out for him, needing his skin against hers, and he folded her hand into his.
“Don’t scare me like that ever again,” he whispered.
She snorted. “I’m not making any promises I can’t keep. And will you all please stop looking like you’re at a funeral. We are both fine. If it will make you all feel better, I promise to sit quietly in the parlour until the baby is born.”
Jackson barked in laughter. “I’ll take that bet. You won’t last a full day trying to be meek and dutiful.”
Cara narrowed her eyes at him. “I never said anything about being meek and dutiful. I said I would sit quietly.”
“Quietly plotting how to escape.” Amy arched an eyebrow at her friend.
It appeared her family knew her all too well.
Cara let out a long sigh. Her senses revived, and she no longer felt as though her head was full of cold honey slowing down her thoughts while her body sat in a hot bath. The baby turned over, and she was gladdened by the movement.
She stared into Nate’s blue eyes. “I will do my best, I promise.”
He leaned down and sealed her promise with a gentle kiss.
“What about Clarence, is he all right? That was quite a punch you delivered.” In all the fuss surrounding her, she had forgotten about the unconscious duke.
A smile quirked on Nate’s lips. “I knocked him out cold but don’t worry, I didn’t break his nose or ruin his looks. Brick is tending to him, and he came around before you did.”
“Good.” She was relieved to hear the duke hadn’t suffered any permanent damage, nor did she want to ruin their friendship. “I hope no one let the count scamper without making it clear we are coming for the stone.” She didn’t want him backing out of their wager.
Humour lit up Nate’s eyes. “Oh, don’t worry on that account. It was made clear to him that we would be paying him a visit.”
Cara leaned back against the arm of the sofa and laid Nate’s large hand over her tummy. The baby made another leisurely tumble, its movement brushing past his palm.
“I can’t help but think this baby is going to be trouble,” she murmured. With the excitement over, exhaustion took over and her eyelids grew heavier.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from a child of ours.” Nate called out orders to his men that Cara only dimly heard as sleep gathered her into its embrace.
Cara slept through most of the next day and awoke to find herself confined to bed until Amy was satisfied that she had recovered.
Gwen, the midwife, arrived. After Cara had been thoroughly poked and prodded, Gwen declared there was nothing wrong with baby or mother. “Let her up, no point moping around in bed all day when there’s work to be done.”
“Huh!” Cara quite liked the no-nonsense midwife from the Rookery. She was used to working class women who had to carry on and didn’t have the luxury of taking to their beds.
Amy pursed her lips and wagged a finger at Cara. “You will not be leaving the house today.”
When Cara made her way downstairs, she found how serious Amy was about keeping her inside. Two of Nate’s men sat by the front door. They had dragged over a side table to play cards on while they guarded the door.
That limited her options. Climbing out a window was definitely out of the question. The child had grown so large it changed her centre of gravity and made moving around awkward. She didn’t want to risk being stuck like a dog half in a rabbit hole.
She found Nate in his study. The bruises on his face were darker and angrier.
“Clarence has quite a punch on him,” she said.
Nate wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her onto his knee. “I had thought Brick overestimated his skill, but he put up a decent fight last night.”
“I think he would make a fine spy. He is well situated and has the skills to defend himself.”
A map of Spain lay open on Nate’s desk, a red pin thrust into one spot.
“I had the same idea. I intend to sound him out about working for Victoria and me.” Nate tapped the top of the pin. “This is the count’s estate. A little place called Gijon that overlooks the Bay of Biscay.”
“When are we going?” Cara grabbed the ruler to measure how far it was from London. At some 1,100 miles, it would take the fast Hellcat around ten hours.
“Cara…” Nate started to admonish her.
“You are not going without me. And besides, how will you know if the count gives you the right stone or not?” The man had a penetrating black stare that she didn’t entirely trust. One thing she had learned was that artifact collectors like to keep hold of their possessions.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Nate said.
Jackson was right—she couldn’t last one day of enforced doing nothing, even in her current state. “I’ll be sitting on my arse on the Hellcat. It’s not like I’m going to swim to Spain.”
Her husband let out a sigh. “Very well.”
After a discussion, they decided to leave the next night so they would arrive in Spain first thing in the morning and be back the following evening. Cara suspected Nate planned it that way to make sure she slept through most of the trip.
Nate sent an aethergraph to the count, telling of their estimated arrival time. Mancilla had left London straight after the boxing match. Perhaps heading home to lick his wounds at losing, or perhaps he sought the privacy of his estate to have fevered dreams about a half-naked and sweat-covered duke.
“I wonder if we will be able to land on the count’s estate or if the stone will stop us?” Cara voiced aloud the idea swirling in her head. Nate and most of his crew had long, larcenous histories.
“But we aren’t intending to steal anything or harm him. We are collecting something that now belongs to us,” Nate said.
There was something to ponder. Did the stone know ownership had been transferred and would no longer protect the count and his estate? There was so much to learn about these objects and how they worked.
The next evening, Cara walked up the metal gangplank and found a familiar face on deck. Clad in a black uniform, he held out his hand as she stepped aboard.
“After a change in pace, Loki?” she asked.
“I thought my girl might want a more experienced hand on her helm. I know Nate doesn’t have my finesse.” The rogue winked and then turned to stare at Paniha at the bow, leaning on the brass rail. “That and I thought Paniha would like a quick jaunt to Spain. Miguel is overseeing the cargo being loaded into the Jenny Elle, and we’ll be ready to return to New Zealand by the end of the week.”
“Missing Hone?” Cara wished she could meet the fierce warrior who had captured Loki’s heart. Curiosity niggled to know if he shared any similarities with Nate.
“Yes,” he said as a strange look washed over his face, one of longing and love that was quite new to Cara.
“I should have guessed that it would take more than one person to tie you down.”
“Oh, it most definitely takes two to tie me down.” He winked again.
Nate joined them on deck, having done his preflight checks of the airship. “Sure
you remember how to handle the old girl?”
Loki slapped the side of the cabin. “She never lets me down. We’ve seen many an adventure with her.”
The two men shared a look and Cara rolled her eyes. The pair of them were incorrigible schoolboys, but at least Jackson wasn’t here to join in. The three of them had met on the pirate vessel and bonded while plundering the skies under a ruthless captain. A mutiny had seen Nate replace the old captain, then their adventures shifted focus when Victoria called Nate back to England and more land-based activities.
“You’re not going to pop due to air pressure, are you, and make a mess all over my clean deck?” Loki frowned.
“I thought you might have grown up now that you have a family of your own, but you are as impertinent as ever.” It was nearly impossible to be angry at Loki with his perpetual boyish charm.
Paniha joined them and looped her arm through Cara’s. “Kahu has made much progress from the selfish man who first came to us. Hone and I punish him when he forgets to consider others.”
Loki waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll definitely need punishing when we get home.”
Cara sighed and tugged Paniha towards the bridge. “You know you’re just encouraging him to misbehave.”
“Perhaps I encourage him so that I can punish him.” Laughter sparkled in Paniha’s dark eyes.
Cara snorted. The pirate had finally met his match, even if it took two people to keep his ego in check.
The small group stood on the bridge as the lines were hauled in and the airship took flight. The sun set over the horizon and painted the sky in shades of red and orange as the Hellcat headed in a southeasterly direction towards Spain.
Once Loki was satisfied the airship was on course and they had smooth sailing over the ocean, they adjourned to the lounge. They had a raucous dinner that reminded Cara of a long ago trip to St Petersburg. She had missed the easy camaraderie with Loki and was fascinated by Paniha’s tales of Aotearaora and the taniwha who hid in her jade necklace.
When her scant energy supply was exhausted, Cara wished Loki and Paniha goodnight and turned in, hoping to snatch some sleep before they arrived at the count’s estate.
19
Cara awoke to Nate kissing her neck. He really was the most delicious alarm clock. It would be even better if she weren’t the size of a whale and perpetually tired. By Amy’s calculations, she had less than eight weeks to go. Faith thought she would deliver earlier, given her size. Quite frankly, the baby could arrive on the trip and Cara wouldn’t complain.
“We’re not far away now. We can see the Spanish coast from the bridge,” Nate murmured.
She rolled over and put out a hand to find his arm covered in leather. Cracking open one eye, she discovered him fully clothed and wearing the leather jacket for wandering around the deck. “You’re dressed already.”
Nate helped her sit up and adjusted a pillow behind her. “Loki runs a tight ship. He’s had me out with the other men checking the air bladder and its rigging. I didn’t see any point in waking you, considering how difficult it is for you to fall asleep now.”
Thinking of the orders given just to run an airship, it amazed her that a child could grow without her having to issue complex instructions. How did her body know what to do and to make two arms and two legs and not three? She should have discussed the process with Charles Darwin when she had a chance, although his view was more bigger picture and generational changes rather than the minutiae of crafting eyebrows.
At the same time, losing control of her body drove her to frustration. Especially when all she wanted to do was fall asleep. “Blasted child had hiccups last night. I have discovered that the only thing worse than getting hiccups is a baby inside you hiccupping away when you want to be asleep.”
Nate stroked the side of her face with a large and cool hand. “Not much longer, and then when the baby has hiccups you can get someone else to deal with it.”
Cara dressed in an empire-line gown. Trousers were abandoned as too much trouble, even though her modiste had constructed an insert to allow them to close under the bump. Cara could no longer see around her tummy to button them up, and she didn’t like the feel of the tight band around her middle. She grabbed a short jacket in a warm wool to guard against the chill winds that washed over the airship.
She found everyone on the bridge, looking out the window towards the stretch of Spanish coast. Loki had one hand on the helm and another gripped around his coffee mug.
Cara wrinkled her nose at the rich aroma wafting from both cup and the shiny coffee machine in the corner. She had nearly forgotten that Loki seemed powered by the stuff. “Do you have coffee in New Zealand?”
Loki took a large sip from his steaming mug. “Poor buggers had some horrid brew that tasted like dirt that had been strained through socks. Now I make sure it’s a cargo staple.”
“Kahu is very grumpy without his morning coffee. One of our elders has learned how to make it, so that he does not bite off the head of the tamariki when he emerges from our hut.” Paniha sat on the wide window frame. The window angled outward, and from the ledge she watched the world pass below.
Cara arched an eyebrow at Loki. Paniha had used that word previously, and Cara tried to remember what it meant.
“Apparently I scare small children before I’ve had coffee.” He drained his mug and handed it off to a nearby crewman.
Nate handed Cara a mug of fragrant tea. Peppermint tea still worked wonders for settling her tummy. She perched on the windowsill next to Paniha. As the sun rose higher, the coast grew closer. Whitewashed buildings with red tile roofs were clustered around the larger town and clung to higher points overlooking the water. Beaches with golden sand stretched for as far as the eye could see.
“It’s beautiful.” Cara placed a hand against the glass, hoping to soak up some of the warmth reflecting off the sand.
Nate wrapped his arms around her swollen belly. “Would you like a small estate here? Perhaps somewhere we could bring Rachel and the baby?”
She turned to see if he was serious or teasing. “Yes, I would love that. Assuming Spain looks as good from the ground as from the air. We could escape winter here, and the children could learn to swim without freezing to death.”
Nate pointed farther along the coast. “From experience, it is far warmer on the ground. I spent some of my wild youth in Spain. From the latitude and longitude the count gave us, his estate is to the west of town.”
They travelled along the coastline and before too long, Nate pointed out a sprawling white mansion with a red roof stretched out to face the ocean. “There it is.”
As they flew over estate, Cara glimpsed a courtyard with a large fountain in the middle and buildings clustered around it.
Loki set the Hellcat down in a paddock not far from the house. Cara was relieved they didn’t bump into the invisible wall created by the foundation stone. Either it knew she was the new owner, or it recognised they didn’t have any harmful intent towards the count. Given what she knew of her husband and the Hellcat’s crew, her instinct said the former.
The compound was surrounded by a tall plastered wall painted with the same whitewash as the buildings. A door made of ancient timbers cracked open to let out a group of people. The count was at the head with a collection of men behind him.
Nate helped Cara down the gangplank. It was definitely warmer at ground level, and she removed her jacket and handed it to a crewman. Even the faint breeze coming off the ocean was warm and salt laden. Paniha struck out for the beach. Cara drew a deep inhale, wondering if she could take her shoes off and have a paddle in the ocean with Paniha before they returned home.
The count stopped before them and bowed. “Welcome to my humble home, Lord and Lady Lyons. Please join me for refreshments in the courtyard.”
He wore a pale linen suit with a pith helmet on his head and looked like he was about to embark on a safari.
“You have a beautiful spot here for your home, count.”
Cara took his offered arm with only a slight hesitation.
“Thank you. My family have lived here for over two hundred years, but I have updated the house with modern plumbing and electricity. I find with my airship that I have the perfect base for visiting the rest of Europe.” He gestured to a small airship tethered not far away. As they walked, they passed chickens scratching in the sandy soil, and the call of voices came from the other side of the wall.
They passed under the large archway into a square courtyard. At the centre was a white stone pool. An urn stood in the middle, and water spilled from its lip back into the pond at its feet. The flash of red and gold within the cool water caught Cara’s eye as fish darted back and forth. Cara instructed her squashed bladder to not listen to the quiet music of water tinkling in the background.
Pots containing palms and small trees added a lush touch to the courtyard. Bright and cheerful geraniums grew at the base of each tree. Trailing plants spilled out of hanging baskets, and their tendrils swayed with the slight breeze.
A large veranda sheltered the surrounding rooms from harsh sunlight and gave relief from the midday heat. A table and cane chairs, padded with soft cushions, were set up under a pergola that was covered by a rampant bougainvillea in a luminous red that reminded Cara of a sunset. A jug of what looked like lemonade sat in the middle of the table, and several glasses waited to be filled.
“Oh, how magnificent. With such a lovely setting, how do you ever tolerate the grey skies of London?” As Cara passed the pond, she trailed a hand in the water and fish flashed by her fingertips.
“On occasion, I seek out the cold and noise. It reminds me of why I love my home.” The count grinned and seemed more at ease on his home soil. Cunning lurked in his dark eyes, though.
A large, grey block of stone by the fountain looked out of place. It was at least three feet high, just as wide, and four feet long.
“Here it is.” The count patted the rough surface. “This stone is ancient and was taken from the base of the Great Wall of China.”