Ether & Elephants (7 page)

“Now—” Nell couldn’t quite feel comfortable with such blatant declarations, especially not yet, when it was so new. “The rest of this bunch belong to the MacKay clan, in one form or another. Again, in order of connection rather than rank, may I please present Tom’s closest friend, Sir Connor MacKay. Then this is Connor’s older sister, Geneva, Baroness Findlay and their father, Sir Fergus MacKay, who’s a colleague of Papa’s.” Fergus and Connor were two peas in a pod—both imposing, powerful men with piercing blue eyes and dark red hair—though Fergus’s was streaked with a liberal amount of silver. Geneva was not quite as tall, but had the dark red hair and a sturdy figure. “And finally, your host, the Earl of Blackwell. Victor is married to Connor’s twin, Melody. I take it she and the others are already asleep?”

Roger mouthed
Others?
with a fleeting look of dread.

Victor chuckled. “Aye. Melody is expecting again so she’s always tired, and her mother went up with her. Belinda was just exhausted after wrangling the twins with Connor on the airship trip here.”

Melody could see Roger mentally counting, his face paling at the sheer numbers.

“I suggested tying them to their seats, but she wouldn’t listen,” Connor said with a wry grin. He poured whisky for Tom and Roger, and a sherry for Nell. “So of course they kept us both running after them the whole time we were in the air. Thank the gods it was a closed viewing deck. If it had been open, I
would
have tied them down.”

Victor shuddered. “I don’t envy you twins, old man. One at a time is difficult enough.”

“Just remember that it runs in the family,” his father-in-law reminded him. “You married a twin. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

Victor took a long pull from his drink. “I know.”

Geneva sighed. “At least there were two of you. I had to cope on my own.” Her husband Magnus rarely traveled from their home in the Hebrides.

“Likewise,” Wink said. “I know I only have one offspring, but I hate traveling without Liam. I can never seem to sleep if I’m by myself.”

During this good-natured chatter, Tom pulled back away from the main group, leaning alone against a bookshelf on the far wall. Always able to sense his feelings to some degree, Nell wanted to weep for his heartbreak. All their friends were happily, blissfully even, married, with oodles of toddlers and babies on the way. Tom had a wife, one he’d married in good faith, but he didn’t even know if she lived, let alone have the kind of relationship Wink or any of the MacKay siblings had. And not knowing if he had a child… It was no wonder he’d become so withdrawn in the past few years.

Roger squeezed her hand. “If we’re going to be back on the hunt in the morning, we should probably get some sleep.”

Nell looked over at Tom, who waved her off. “Go on. I’ll fill them in and see if anyone has any ideas.” A fair amount of Order talent was gathered right in this room. It would be stupid to waste it. But suddenly the weight of the whole situation crashed in on Nell and she wanted to curl up in a ball and whimper.

“I am tired.” She withdrew her hand from Roger’s. “Come on. I imagine Mrs. Ritchie has left someone to point us to our rooms.”

In fact, the housekeeper herself waited by the stairs, along with a footman. “We’re a little tight for space, Mr. Braithwaite, so I have you sharing with Sir Tom, if that’s all right?”

“That’s fine,” Roger said. “Last I knew, I didn’t snore.” He followed the footman up the stairs and to the left.

Nell couldn’t say anything. Tom’s secrets weren’t hers to share, not with Roger or Victor’s staff, though since they’d been revealed here three years earlier, Nell was surprised Mrs. Ritchie didn’t already know that Nell had once harbored hopes of marrying Tom. Or maybe she did and simply didn’t see any awkwardness in throwing the two men together. Either way, there was nothing to be done. Nell followed Mrs. Ritchie to one of the smallest guestrooms, close to the nursery on the third floor, and refused the offer of a maid to help her undress. Schoolteachers didn’t have ladies’ maids, so all Nell’s current clothing was designed with that in mind. She indulged in the softest, most sumptuous fabrics she could manage, but of course everything she wore was in the school’s preferred colors of dark blue, brown or gray. What would Roger think if he saw her in her favorite coral evening gown? She smiled as she smoothed down her nightgown and crawled into the single bed. A warm fire crackled softly, and mounds of quilts enfolded her, warming her chilled hands and feet. Mrs. Ritchie was too good a housekeeper to forget that Nell was always cold.

“Mama, sometimes I wish you were here,” she whispered into the empty room. For years, the ghost of her birth mother had stayed by her side, helping Nell and her half brother Piers survive. Once the Hadrians had adopted them, Fanny Jenkins had passed through the veil, or been promoted, or whatever happened to ghosts once their unfinished business was done. Nell had missed her, but never quite as much as now, when they had so little to go on to find Charlie. Nell couldn’t explain why this one student had touched her so deeply that she’d given up her position to find him, but she simply knew, in her heart, that this was something she had to do.

Maybe, she told herself, it was Mama’s ghost guiding her. Or maybe it was just something she needed to do for Tom, before she’d truly be free to find happiness somewhere else. She slept deeply, but restlessly, her dreams filled with Tom’s sad eyes and a small boy’s voice crying out for help.

* * *

Tom buttoned his trousers then quietly picked up his coat and shoes, just as dawn tinted the sky. Better to be out of the room before Braithwaite awoke. The mathematics teacher seemed like a nice enough chap. It wasn’t his fault that Tom continually wanted to eviscerate him. He had property and an income. Most importantly, he genuinely seemed to care for Nell. Therefore, Tom needed to find the boy as quickly as possible and get the hell away from Nell and her fiancé.

He slipped out of the room, finished dressing and made his way downstairs. Victor and Connor, also early risers, shared the breakfast table, while Victor’s butler and former first mate, Barnaby Hatch, hastily stood at Tom’s approach.

Tom waved his hand. “Sit down, Mr. Hatch. You’re not going to offend me.”

“Actually, Barnaby has some news that may interest you.” Victor glared at Hatch. “It seems we’ve some missing children here in Blackwell Village, too, only nobody bothered to mention it to me until now.”

Hatch swallowed a chunk of kidney pie. “I didn’t know until last night. One of the footmen was down at the tavern and heard about it. Seems a couple lads went missing last week. Parents thought they’d just gone off on a lark, which they’ve apparently done before. Only this time they haven’t come back.”

Victor turned back to Tom. “We’ve already sent men down to the village to help with the search. I don’t see any likelihood that it’s related to your missing boy, but it
is
a coincidence.”

“And those are always suspect.” Connor scratched his chin. “Seems like there’s a tie to the issue in London, as well. Children missing. If this is a pattern that runs across the whole of England, there’s something very, very big going on. Merrick may be right to suspect our Alchemist has resurfaced. Children seem to be his favorite guinea pigs. Victor, do you know if either of your missing boys had any supernatural talent?”

Victor looked over at Hatch. “Nothing I know about. Barnaby?”

Hatch scowled. “Maybe the one. He’s one of the transplanted African lads. Wicked good with animals. Would swear he talks to them and understands when they talk back. Planned to bring him on as a stable boy in a year or two if he was interested. Always see him watching horses with stars in his eyes. The other is the blacksmith’s son. Doesn’t say much, but he’s big. Wouldn’t’ve been taken without a fight, for all he’s just twelve or so.”

Three years earlier, a slave ship bound for America had been wrecked off Black Heath. The villagers had adopted the refugees, integrating them into the community with surprising ease. Some of that was the villagers following the lead of their lord and lady, who’d hired several to work at the Heath, but more of it may have had to do with a mutual hatred for the smugglers. Either way, Blackwell had grown unusually integrated for a rural English village.

“Well, we’d intended to leave immediately for London, but since Wink’s upstairs, perhaps she and Melody can work their analytical engine magick from here, and over the telephone with headquarters. Then maybe we can stay at least for today.” Tom worked over the possibilities. Running to London seemed foolish when so many of his resources were already at Black Heath. “That way, I can help you look for your missing youngsters.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.” Victor finished his coffee and stood. “Connor, you with us?”

“Hell, yes.” Connor’s bright blue eyes lit up as he leaped from his seat. “Work, instead of sitting around chit-chatting all day and supervising children’s games? Do you have to ask?” He clapped his brother-in-law on the shoulder. Their camaraderie left Tom feeling awkward. He and Connor had been best mates all through university and ever since. Now though, Tom, with only a sort-of wife, was the odd man out. It was mean and petty, but he couldn’t help feeling a stab of envy toward the others and their deliriously happy marriages and children.

“Should we invite Braithwaite?” Victor asked Tom as they made their way upstairs for coats and riding boots.

“A mathematics teacher? I don’t think so.” Yes, Nell had mentioned that the other man was a former soldier, but Tom would rather not spend the entire day with him. “Let’s go, before any of the women demand to come along as well.”

“Come along where?” Wink turned a corner and arched a brow at Tom when he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You just got here and you’re leaving? Are we missing out on an adventure?” She wore her dressing gown and she bounced her infant son, Theodore Merrick McCullough, in her arms. Tom resisted the urge to reach out to stroke his godson’s bald little head.

“Helping the villagers look for a couple of lost boys,” Connor said with a shrug.

“Besides, you’re the one with a real job today,” Tom added. “Nell can give you the specifics, but we need you to use the Babbage machine to find out anything you can about her quest. Particularly travel records, if you can come up with any, since right now we have no notion of where they might be headed.”

“As soon as Teddy here has his breakfast, I can do that while Melody plays hostess. But try to be back before dinner. If you miss her party, she’s liable to gut all of you with a serving spoon.” All of the men nodded as Wink continued, “Besides, Mum will be here and will want to see you.”

Tom rolled his eyes as they went their separate ways. He looked forward to seeing Caroline, and his younger foster-siblings, but it was so easy to be overwhelmed when the whole family was around. He couldn’t wait to get on with this mission and away from the party and its abundance of family. When they were around, especially Merrick or Caro, it was so difficult to forget the damage he’d caused by his youthful stupidity. Nell was their porcelain angel, and he’d been the one to shatter her. He didn’t know how they could look at him with the same affection they’d once had, although somehow they always seemed to manage it. It was a kindness he didn’t deserve.

* * *

Nell always loved watching Wink work. The way her long fingers flew over the brass keys of a Babbage Analytical Engine was almost a caress, much like Nell felt when she played the piano. They’d set up operations in Melody’s workshop outside the main house, avoiding the crush of the gathering partygoers. As Wink typed in their search criteria, an electronic slate above the keyboard relayed the information. Meanwhile, Nell telephoned the Order’s headquarters in London, asking them to run different searches on the main engine there. After that, she began to ring up shipping companies and railway stations. Somewhere, there had to be some link to Charlie’s so-called aunt and their whereabouts. She refused to accept the possibility that their search was hopeless.

“Did you know Doctor’s Commons issued five special licenses for Cambridge the month Tom was married?” Wink said as Nell rang off from another fruitless inquiry.

“Really?” Nell had no interest at all in statistics. “Is that a lot or a few?”

“Quite a bit for one town,” Wink answered. “Only London and Manchester had as many, and they’re much larger cities.”

“But without a concentrated population of randy young gentlemen.” Nell kept her finger on the next number she needed to call, a French steamship firm with offices in Southampton. “I imagine there are often hasty marriages surrounding universities. I knew of at least one when I was at the Academy.” While Geneva, Melody and Wink had gone to Lovelace College at Oxford, among the first women in the country to study sciences at an advanced level, Nell had stayed in London with Merrick’s Aunt Dorothy and attended the Royal Academy of Music. More proof that she was the least adventurous of them all.

“True,” Wink said. “But even Oxford only had two that month. And that’s not the strange part.”

“Oh?” Surely the Order had already been over all the possible information surrounding Tom’s marriage. “I thought you were supposed to be searching for a birth record for Charlie.”

“I am. This is just a secondary line of inquiry.” Wink waved her hand at the machine, then patted the top of the brass input board with its gleaming black keys. “I upgraded this beauty just yesterday. She’s got way more power than any ordinary engine.”

“And?” Nell gazed into her sister’s hazel eyes. They glinted with excitement. Wink had found something.

“Aaand,” Wink said, “four of those five involve women whose given names begin with the letter
P
. One is Polly, one Pauline, a Paulette and a Penelope. All four men, including Tom, have their occupation listed as Student.”

Nell set down the handset of the telephone and swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “That’s an awful coincidence. Surnames?”

Wink sighed. “Barclay, which we knew. Burlington, Bourne and Barker.”