Her Own Devices (8 page)

“My confidence or lack of it is irrelevant. The girl was hired to shuffle paper, not offer uninformed opinions on a great work.”

“Her opinions are far from uninformed. She came up with a theory that I feel I must explore, in fact.”

“Ridiculous. Next you’ll be holding her yarn for her while she knits.”

“I don’t believe the lady does knit,” Andrew said coolly. “And I must say I don’t understand your attitude toward her.”

“Yes, you do. I’ve told you before.”

“That you had honorable intentions and now cannot bear to see her in a position of dependence on us—on you?”

“That would sum it up, yes. And the fact that I seem completely powerless to stop her.”

Andrew was not a man who normally pried into his friend’s private life, but this was too much for him. “Why should you want to stop her, James? If she has declined your attentions and yet is a valuable addition to this venture, what has it to do with you any longer?”

James appeared to be struggling with himself. “You’re going to find out anyway,” he muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

He raised his head and lifted his empty glass in a toast. “Congratulate me, Andrew,” he said in a tone that approximated good cheer. “I am going to embrace the proverbial ball and chain in, oh, four years or so.”

Perplexed, Andrew stared at him. “For the love of heaven, James, what on earth are you talking about?”

“Simply this. Much to my astonishment, and without quite knowing how it came about, I have somehow found myself engaged to your laboratory assistant.”

Was James so exhausted that a single finger of whiskey had addled his brain? “I don’t understand you.” Andrew’s lips felt frozen, his tongue barely able to form the words.

“Let me rephrase. This afternoon I believe I proposed to Lady Claire Trevelyan, and I am nearly perfectly certain she accepted.”

Andrew felt his jaw unhinge—and his mind as well. He simply could not make reality and this new information match in any way that was sane.

“Yes, I feel much the same way,” James went on, gaining control of himself now that the revelation was over. “I’m still not sure it is real.”

“It isn’t real. You don’t even like her.” Andrew caught one fact in the whirling morass that was his brain and clung to it. “You’ve never said one good thing about her except that she had nice eyes.”

“She has a spine, Andrew. I admire that about her.”

“I’ve heard you call her pig-headed and lacking in knowledge of her place. Right here in this room, in fact.”

It could not be true. James could not be engaged to Claire. And she of all people would never have accepted him. She could barely stand to be in the same room, for heaven’s sake!

“You must admit she is certainly both those things. But the fact remains, I have written to her mother declaring my intentions, and when I revealed this to Claire, she accepted my proposal.”

“She couldn’t have.” Andrew couldn’t make himself look beyond this. “She plans to become an engineer and—and explore the Amazon. Build airships. Construct bridges in China. Not become a peer’s wife and serve tea to railroad presidents. No, James, you must be joking.”

“I assure you I am not.”

“The Claire I know would never marry you.”

“Is that so?” James’s tone had become dangerously soft. “And how well do you know her after less than a week?”

“I know she has ambitions. I know she cares for those children. I know she would never do this.”

“And is it so bad, being engaged to me?”

Yes, it was. It was the worst thing that had ever happened. Because, Andrew now saw, if it were true, then she had chosen the wrong man.

If Claire Trevelyan was to marry anyone, it should be him.

*

Claire spent the next morning on the filing cabinets immediately behind Andrew’s desk. Since everything that had been on the desk was presumably of current interest to him, it was logical to put it closer to hand. That meant, of course, that the contents of the first cabinet had to go somewhere. For now, she was making orderly piles on the floor.

Andrew had been very distracted earlier, giving her the barest greeting and then removing Tigg to the chamber to continue their experiments. Snouts, who had elected to stay outside and guard the landau, could be heard whistling now and again through the open window. At noon, Claire dusted off her hands and collected both boys for lunch.

“Where is Mr. Malvern?” she inquired of Tigg, pinning on her hat. “I’ve hardly spoken to him today.”

“’E ent speakin’ to anyone much, Lady. In a bit of a temper, ’e is. I left ’im in the back, fabricating another augmentation switch. Dunno as it’ll do us much good, though. Electricks just ent made for this kind o’ work.”

“We shall see if our journey today will not change both his experiments and his temper. Come along.”

After a fortifying lunch at a pub close to Tower Bridge, Claire piloted the landau south to St. George’s Fields. There, she came to a halt outside the forbidding black iron bars of the fence that separated Bethlehem Royal Hospital from the sane world. Across the lawn and circular drive, the central cupola of the enormous institution rose above the fourth floor and into the sky. From somewhere they could hear the sound of birds twittering, and there were a few people pacing the lawn in quiet conversation. Other than that, there was no sound.

“If we go in there, we c’n come out again, right?” Tigg said in a small voice.

“Even lunatics c’n ’ave visitors,” Snouts said. “Buck up, mate.”

A man came to the gate. “Your business?”

Claire raised her chin. “Lady Claire Craig, here to visit my cousin, Dr. Rosemary Craig, if you please.”

“Certainly, milady.” He unlocked the gate and Claire pushed the driving bar forward so that they rolled through. “You’ll want to ask for her doctor in the receiving room, and they’ll arrange to have her brought out.”

“Thank you, sir.” They progressed around the circular drive and came to a halt in front of the steps. Claire descended and removed her driving rig, then tugged her suit jacket into place and made sure her lace jabot was suitably fluffed. Then she noticed Tigg, who had not moved.

“Tigg? Aren’t you coming?”

“Please, Lady,” he whispered. “I can’t do it. I can’t go in there.”

“Come on, Tigg,” Snouts said in bracing tones. “I ent afraid, nor should you be.”

From somewhere deep in the building came an ululating scream. Tigg flinched, and if he could have crept under the landau and laid flat upon the gravel, Claire was sure he would have. “Ent goin’,” he whispered. “You can’t make me.”

“On second thought,” Claire said, looking up at the doors, “I do not feel I should leave the landau unattended. Your logic is sound, Tigg. If you are willing to post a guard, I should be most grateful.”

The boy drew a deep breath. “You c’n count on me, Lady.” He slid out of the back and stood next to the passenger door, pressed against its gleaming surface as though glued there. “I shan’t move from this spot, and no one shall touch this engine.”

“Thank you, Tigg. You have set my mind at rest. Come along, Mr. McTavish. That silk cravat should be tucked into your waistcoat, not lying upon it. And don’t forget to put on your spectacles.”

So far today she had been two people: the Lady of Devices and the studious assistant to Andrew Malvern. Now Claire drew on a third persona—one oddly similar to that of her mother—like a cloak. She straightened her spine and tilted her chin so that she was obliged to look down her nose, and, grasping her skirts in one hand and her pocketbook containing her engineering notebook in the other, she sailed into the receiving room on a cloud of authority.

“I wish to visit my cousin, Dr. Rosemary Craig,” she informed the nurse at the desk in pleasant, plummy tones. “I am Lady Claire Craig, of—of Craigsmoor House in Shropshire, and this is my secretary, Mr. McTavish.”

The nurse looked awed, as though titled ladies did not come visiting so very often. Perhaps they did not. “Certainly, your ladyship. Let me fetch the doctor in charge of her case. In the meantime, perhaps you might care for some refreshment, here, in the sitting room?”

She showed them into a pleasant sitting room with white plaster walls and several chairs. In a moment she was back with a pitcher of water and three glasses, which she set on a side table. “The doctor will be with you shortly.”

Claire had just poured herself and Snouts a glass of water when a man in a white coat came in. He looked very much like the dreadful person at the British Museum who had interviewed her for a position—and been much more interested in her anatomy than in her knowledge of cataloguing specimens. Claire forced down her instant, irrational distaste and extended a hand.

“Lady Claire,” he said politely, shaking it. “I am Doctor Thomas Longmont, at your service.”

“How do you do? This is my secretary, Mr. McTavish.” Snouts shook hands gravely, his spectacles winking in the light from the front window.

“I understand you wish to see your cousin, Rosemary Craig. You will no doubt be very welcome, but first, I feel I should prepare you, since this is your first visit here.”

“Prepare me, sir? Is Rosemary not well?” She bit her lip. Of course she was not well. That was why she was locked up in here. “I mean—”

He smiled. “I imagine you meant is she suffering from an illness other than that of the mind. Let me assure you, in body she is sound. However, in mind ... How long has it been since you last saw your cousin?”

Claire pretended to consider. “I was a child, and she and her family—my aunt and uncle, and cousin Dorothy—had come to Craigmoor House for Christmas. I believe she had just made a grand presentation to the Royal Society of Engineers, so it was a very merry holiday for all of us.”

Snouts gazed at her in admiration for this feat of storytelling. Claire ignored him and fixed a pleasant expression on her face as she waited for the doctor to speak.

“So it has been some years, then. Well, let me tell you briefly of her condition, which I hope will not cause you too much distress.” He tugged on his pant legs and seated himself. “Her affect is disconcerting. Be prepared for that at first. She cannot look anyone in the eye, and her replies to questions make no sense. She persists in believing her family are the mad ones, and she is perfectly sane, so I beg you, do not let your natural compassion and feminine sympathy overcome good sense.” He paused, as if gathering himself for the worst. “The presence of your secretary is fraught with danger, I am afraid. She has an intense dislike of men, even those who, like myself, are acting in her best interests. At the same time, she has a history of violence, so the presence of this young man with you is a positive. All I can do is post an orderly within calling distance, who will be ready to intervene at the slightest sign from you.”

Claire was sure she had gone pale, and indeed, the doctor searched her face.

“You may well be shocked. Miss Craig is not the same woman you remember from happier times in the bosom of the family, I am very sorry to say.”

She nodded, and rose on unsteady knees. “May I see her now?”

Dr. Longmont led them out. “The incurables are housed in their own wing, with their own airing garden. It would not do to mix them with the patients undergoing more successful methods of treatment.”

Claire felt Snouts close beside her, and indeed, felt no embarrassment at all in taking his arm and gripping it. They proceeded down a long gallery lined with doors. This was clearly the women’s side, and female patients in various states of dress and dishevelment walked up and down ... or sat, drooping, by the windows. Or, in one case, lay on the floor in a corner, sobbing uncontrollably. From inside a room came that same throbbing scream that had so frightened Tigg, and Claire distinctly felt Snouts flinch.

They turned right and proceeded past a pair of double doors marked COLD BATHS and another marked ELECTRICK THERAPY.

Claire looked away.

The doctor unlocked a set of doors with the key that hung in a small cabinet bearing a combination lock, and they were in the incurables wing. This corridor was much shorter, and every door was closed and locked. Claire could see people’s heads through small windows in the doors—people in constant motion, it seemed, flying at the walls, walking in circles, gawking at the visitors, mouths open.

They passed through another door and moved through the ward, with beds against the walls, presumably for less dangerous incurables. An orderly in a clean white uniform joined them. Claire glanced at the beds. At top and bottom were leather straps, the kind that might wrap around ankle or wrist. Another set of locked doors, and then they were outside.

A deep breath did nothing to clear the miasma of fear and distress flowing out the door behind them.

The airing garden was a square of lawn with a couple of stone benches. At the far end, a woman in a white dressing gown sat, staring fixedly at a stone wall the height of two men. No one else appeared to be taking the air today, though the afternoon was fine.

“Remember,” Dr. Longmont said, “at the slightest sign of agitation, Mr. Wellburn here will be at hand to help.”

“Thank you,” Claire whispered.

“Would you like me to go with you?”

She would like him to take her back through all those locked doors to the main entrance, so she could escape this place. “No, thank you. She will remember me, I am sure.”

He nodded, and left them. Claire took a deep breath and she and Snouts approached the figure in white. An attempt had been made to dress her hair, but without hairpins it was difficult to do much more than braid it. Her posture was rigidly straight, as though she still wore a corset.

“Doctor Craig?” No response. Claire circled around to stand before her. “Doctor Craig, I am Lady Claire Trevelyan, daughter of Viscount St. Ives. I am posing as your cousin from Shropshire in order to visit you.”

A tremor seemed to run through the woman’s body, but her gaze remained fixed on a point at the top of the wall.

Well, she was not deaf. Claire saw no choice but to sit next to her and proceed. “I do hope you will not reveal my deception to the worthy doctor. The reason for my visit is that I believe I am in possession of one of your lightning devices. Contrary to popular belief, not all of them seem to have been destroyed. I have come today in hopes that you might be able to educate me on how they work.”