This Deadly Engine Page 6

  I took a deep breath and said a word of thanks for the wound interrupting a most unnecessary moment. How could I survive a voyage in an airship with a woman who refused to accept the truth? I would not fall in love with her.

  She shook her head. “You are not ready for this, and I am a selfish fool for pushing you beyond what a decent suitor should.” She took the pail and cloths. “I’m sorry, Alexander.” She ran away.

  The canon stated the obvious when it said, “Her feelings for you will not be easily dismissed.”

  True, but our parting would arrive soon enough. And to that end I had to seek out those I had saved. They needed the opportunity to express their gratitude through the payment of their debt.

  The canon said, “Again, you should be ashamed.”

  I started with the man with the pock-marked cheeks whom I found in the chapel down the hall from the guest chambers. His enthusiastic thank you spilled over to the promise of a generous gift that encouraged me to continue despite the voice’s unending reprimands.

  By the noon hour, I had secured enough in monetary promises that I felt much more confident in my plans. I told the canon, “See? Perhaps a providential hand guides this after all. The way has been opened for me to leave.”

  The canon said, “And Jonah believed he could escape his duty, too.”

  True, but Jonah had a calling. I had nothing close to such a purpose.

  “Are you sure?” the canon answered. “Perhaps your work here is not yet finished.”

  Work? What work? I don’t believe I ever had a job to do, other than survive each day.

  I returned to my room. Bishop Donnavan found me there just after I had settled on the bed. “I apologize for disturbing you, Alexander, but we should talk.”

  I motioned to the chair. Truthfully, I welcomed any visitor besides Rebecca. “Please, sit.”

  As he did so he asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “My back aches and my hands are sore, but Rebecca assures me they are healing.” I almost asked him about the escape on Lord Diggerty’s airship. That was likely his primary reason for the visit. Yet I held my tongue out of respect. He did not deserve such rudeness.

  The man said, “She knows much about health remedies and healing ointments. Truth be told, I understand little of what she tells me, but my business concerns souls more than the physical body’s ailments.” He fidgeted, which seemed so foreign to his usually calm demeanor. “However, I am learning the two have so much impact on each other. Perhaps I dismiss her talk too quickly.”

  I smiled at the fact that he had no idea that Rebecca used elixirs in her ointments. “What do you believe happens to the soul when an automaton replacement is brought to life?”

  He scratched his chin in thought. “Never have we been presented by such a foul question. Body and soul belong together. That is the way we are designed. But soul and machine? I cannot seem to grasp the possibility. Or to think through the implications.”

  I had considered the question often. Elizabeth Stewart appeared very much alive and in control of her metal shell. A human resided within the automaton. Yet her emotions and physical senses remained so distant that I could only conclude, “I believe a tether connects the body and soul to the automaton. They are joined in the same way an airship is joined to the ground by ropes.”

  “Perhaps that is a good way of looking at it, Alexander. I see you have considered the matter in the same way I have spent many contemplative hours considering the Duke’s true goal.”

  “How do you solve the riddle of a mad man’s motivations?”

  The Bishop gave me a sad smile. “By not overthinking the situation. I believe love is at the heart of the Duke’s actions, as well as something as simple as revenge. If we read too much into him, we are as likely to lose the man’s true purpose as we are to find it. He loves Lady Elizabeth, and so he removed all impediments to continuing his research into finding a cure for her magically-sustained state. If that means taking over Parliament and the Prime Minister’s post to either loosen or overturn the laws regarding magic, then so be it. Those matters are consequences of his actions that happen to advance his prime motive.”

  “You think he has been driven mad by love?” I shook my head. “Madness consumed him long before he met Elizabeth.”

  “Undoubtedly, but love awakened something more in him – a purpose!” He pounded his palm with his fist for emphasis. “Love gave him direction and meaning and an ultimate goal. In many ways, it is the same with my daughter, though she is not mad.” He waved his hand for me to remain silent. “I know of your feelings towards her, Alexander. I respect your position, though I pray you will change your mind. And you must indulge an old man who cares very much for his child when he continues to try to convince you to do so. Along those lines, I have a request.”

  “Escort her to London on Lord Diggerty’s airship.”

  “You have spoken to him, then? I should not be surprised.” He leaned forward. “I want you to escort her to London, yes. I am sure you plan to disappear after arriving. To that end, however, I ask that you promise to keep her safe until she is secure in her new home. There is a fellow clergyman I trust to keep watch over her. Will you do that, Alexander? Will you promise?”

  “I promise.” For his sake, I gladly did so. “Yet I will not stay a moment longer than necessary.”

  He gave me a long, measured look that almost made me squirm with nervousness. “I expect you to keep that promise, Alexander. Keep her safe no matter what it takes until such time as she is out of Duke Schaever’s reach.”

  I equaled his look. “I might be a thief. I might be a magic addict. I might be broken beyond help. But I am a man of my word. I promise that I will keep Rebecca safe.”

  The canon said, “Will you keep your promise the same way you kept your promise to Pienne to not use his secret entrance? Or the same way you kept Sheela’s secret that she survived the Gateway?”

  I ignored the voice’s rebuke…for both situations had been driven by unusual and desperate circumstances…and kept my eyes locked with the Bishop’s until he looked at his hands. “I understand. She will not, but I do. Thank you, Alexander, for humoring an old man.” He stood. When he peered at me, his eyes spoke of me carrying the sum of his hopes. “While I would enjoy visiting longer, tonight promises to be eventful. You should rest while you can.” He paused within the doorway. “I fear I ask too much of you, Alexander. But this means a great deal to me. Your willingness to help, to make yourself her protector for a little longer, means more than you know.” And with that, he left.

  I fell back on the bed. After such an exchange, I welcomed his abrupt departure. We did not need to say anything more. He understood my feelings and mostly accepted them. That provided much needed reassurance. It also confirmed that my plans were the correct ones. I would soon leave Campden. Forever.

  The canon said, “We shall see.”

  I ignored the voice again and tried to rest…yet my excitement refused to cooperate. My mind churned with new possibilities – from working on the docks in New York to working as part of an airship crew to becoming a gentleman farmer. I paced the room and dared not venture out for fear of being discovered by Rebecca.

  My determined absence only drove her straight to me.

  She brought fresh bandages and more salve in the early hours of the evening. I had no choice but to accept her care.

  While she put a new dressing on my back, she spoke with a quiet voice. “I have a confession to make, Alexander.” Based on the hint of desperation in her tone, I expected another profession of her love. “I am…scared. So much that I don’t sleep well. I am afraid to close my eyes because when I wake I’m not sure if I will be in this body or in a false, mechanical one.” She held her arms wide and examined her frame. “What about this makes me a target for Duke Schaever? What is there about me that represents a threat to him? How can I sleep when a kidnapper could slip into my room at night? I can no longer go beyond these walls unless I
want to take a terrible risk. I have always enjoyed the Royal Fountains and found them inspiring. But I dare not go there. I would have to look over my shoulder every second and assume the worst of anyone who steps into my shadow.” She looked at me from under her brow. “How am I supposed to live with such fear and uncertainty? I ask you that question only because that is how you live. You are hunted by far worse than I am. How has it not driven you mad?”

  Despite myself, I took her hands in my own. They felt as cold as the night air. They also trembled. I squeezed them to reassure her. “There is not a one of us who has a guarantee of safety, or the assurance of tomorrow. You should pray and put your trust in the one who can best provide.”

  She leaned forward, and her next words made my heart ache. “I trust you, Alexander. You are the one who is supposed to watch over me. You are the only one who understands how I feel. We are supposed to be together, so I will always be under your protective wing.” She took the locket from the bedside table and placed the chain around my neck. “Keep this with you at all times, so we are always together.”

  No, you do not want to be under the wing of a thief, a scoundrel, a criminal, a murderer. You do not want anything to do with my life. I failed to save your mum. Is that not enough to earn your scorn?

  “Stop.” Her eyes pierced into mine. “Stop doing that.”

  “Doing what, exactly?”

  “Blaming yourself.” Her words plunged as deep as any blade. “Telling yourself you are not good enough. For yourself. For this world. For me. Stop telling yourself how you have fallen too far to expect a good life, telling yourself that I deserve someone better.” She squeezed my hands tighter. “I know you better than you think, Alexander Asherton. And let me reassure you that I am not too good for you. On the contrary, you are too good for me.”

  “You are talking nonsense. You have no idea of the crimes I have committed.”

  “You say that as if you understand the things I have done, as if I am but an innocent girl who knows nothing of the sins of this world. Some matters I have never spoken of to anyone, especially Father and Mum. Some matters are best left in silence. But…you deserve to know.” She drew back, and the light glistened off her tears. “Have you ever wondered why you found me in the alley when you rescued me from the two men, and we saw the Duke’s mechanical monster for the first time? Have you ever asked yourself why you found me at such an early hour?”

  “Yes, but I assumed you had been out with friends too long into the night. I didn’t—”

  “Think the worst of me?” She turned away to hide her face. “You should have. You should have realized what waited at the end of the alley, or at least I would have expected you to, considering your history with magic.”

  Did she admit to what I thought she admitted to? Is that why a sick, nauseous feeling settled deep in my belly?

  She rubbed her left forearm. “I know what it means to float away on the magic, to experience the numbness of feeling and the freedom of thought. I have flown through the heavens and returned to the earth refreshed and with what I believed to be a sense of purpose.” She sighed in memory of the joy, and the act stirred a certain empathy. “I understand the trappings that claim you.”

  “Yet you walked away.”

  “Because of that night. Because of the attack.” She moved closer to me. “You saved me, Alexander. You. And because of your selflessness, I saw the errors of what I descended into. I…”

  The canon said, “See? You were brought to that place at the right time with the right power in order to save her. Can you doubt providence?”

  When I looked away, tears struck my hands. I turned my eyes to her again. Love and adoration, pain and confusion, filled her beautiful face. “I don’t deserve the credit,” I said to try to relieve some of the emotions overwhelming her, that threatened to overwhelm me. “I merely did what I would do for any lady in such a situation.”

  “You didn’t merely save me from those men. When you saved me from the magic, you also made me realize that maybe I could use it for good. I discovered several people who use elixirs for medicinal purposes. I learned from them and developed my own healing ointments. The discoveries we make could lead to cures for any number of ailments.” She kneeled before me. “All of that because you saved me from the magic. You. You gave me the determination not to fall into the addiction.”

  And I had not had the same will power in the same situation. If anything, I embraced the magic and the relief from the pain of the scars.

  “I want to save you now, Alexander.” She spoke as if she had the power to do so and believed with all her heart that she would not fail. “I want you to know that you are not alone in this world. You have someone who will love you and adore you and stay at your side all the days of your life.” She pressed my hands over her heart, which pounded as fast as mine. “I want you to see what amazing things love can do in your life, what beautiful moments it brings. I want you to experience the joy of life, not the pain and suffering. I want you to see the beauty in the magic, not the evil of it. Most of all, I want you to know you have a wife you can trust, one who will not abandon you on a whim or because she prefers someone else.”

  Her words touched the empty place in my soul, the place Aimee opened when she announced her intent to divorce, the place where the healing scar had been ripped away when Sheela tried to kill me. It touched in such a way that I almost cried myself.

  My voice trembled as I said, “Rebecca…”

  “Do you love me, Alexander?”

  “Kiss her,” the canon said, “take her in your arms, and let her know of your affections for her.”

  She peered into my eyes with a fierceness that almost frightened me.

  I could not love again. “Rebecca…”

  She spoke louder. “Do you love me, Ash?”

  Love? What did it mean? Why did it pursue me like a bloodhunter? Why did it haunt me? Hurt me? Stalk me? Demand so much?

  “I…” The words almost tumbled out, but I choked them back. “I have been hurt too much. I…”

  “Can you love me?” she asked with an emphasis on the first word. She moved closer, all but climbing onto my lap. The heat of her passion threatened to overwhelm my control while the smell of her perfume spun within my head. “Can you love me, Alexander Asherton?” Her face was only inches away. The tears in the corners of her eyes reflected my tormented face.

  My body shook, and I fought the urge to wrap my arms around her, to press my lips against her, and…

  “Answer me,” she said, no longer the shy and innocent gal, but a determined and forceful lady. “Can you love me?”

  “They have returned!” a man called from the hallway. “They are here!”

  When I tried to stand, Rebecca held me down. “Stay. There is nothing we can do.”

  “We need to see.”

  I need to leave.

  “Not until you give me an answer. Alexander…if you refuse to love me now, can you find it within yourself to love me someday?” She studied my eyes as if searching for the answer.

  I would only hurt her. The longer she held onto hope, the greater her pain. I turned away. “No, Rebecca. There are too many…complications.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I gently pushed her away…and stood. “Then you will subject yourself to needless suffering. I’m sorry.” I hurried into the hallway.

  Rebecca followed and grabbed my arm. “Stay, Alexander. We cannot risk being seen.”

  A man ran down the hall. He gasped for air. “Lady Donnavan…you need…to come…at once!” He motioned to her. “Your mum—”

  Rebecca stifled a cry when she covered her mouth. She pulled me along as she headed to the stairs. “Please, no. Please, no.”

  We reached the sanctuary and found the crowd already gathered beside the partially-opened doors. The voice calling from the street belonged to the wife of Bishop Donnavan. She said, “I know you are hiding, my dearest love. Why will you not come with
me? Why must you refuse to be at my side?”

  Rebecca ran to the Bishop, who sat on the last pew with his face buried in his hands. “Father…”

  The man looked up and his face appeared as white as my hair. Wrinkles lined his eyes, which were red from his tears. His jaw shook as he said, “It’s our worst fear, Rebecca.”

  I moved closer to the door while trying to remain out of sight. Lord Diggerty stood as a barrier, making him useful for perhaps the first time in his life. When I peered around him, my blood ran cold.

  Lady Donnavan stood in the middle of the lane. She wore clothing usually seen on those who worked the darkest lanes and forgotten alleys at night – a low-cut bodice made of a sheer cloth that left little to the imagination. A red shawl ran across her shoulders, and she twirled the ends as she pranced in front of the Cathedral. She wore makeup so thick that she appeared more like a marionette than a real person.

  The canon said, “If she is a real person.”

  The lady put her hands together and pleaded to those who watched from the inside. “Can you not see how lonely I am? And you dare to leave me here, exposed, for all to see as well? I thought you loved me, Johnathan. I thought you cared for me. Did our wedding vows mean nothing?” She stared at the opening through which we all peered. “I know you are hiding in there. I know you watch me. And I say shame on you. Shame on your religion, on your beliefs. If you truly cared for me and took our love seriously, you would join me. You would come with me.”

  I saw none of Schaever’s minions, only passersby who stopped to gawk at the spectacle. Unfortunately, the number of watchers grew as the scene continued.

  Lady Donnavan fell to her knees. She pulled at the front of her bodice as if she ached within her heart. “Why will you not listen to me? What must I do to prove my love for you?”

  Through the crowd, I saw him. Again.

  Reckard stood to the right, just behind a couple who watched with amusement. He studied the front of the Cathedral and looked at the towers.