The Doomsday Vault (26 page)

On Tuesdays and Saturdays, Norbert brought flowers, chocolates, or some other gift for her. After supper, he gave her the same cheek kiss and bid her the same good-bye. If she hadn't seen Norbert accidentally cut himself with a fish knife once, she would have suspected he was some kind of extremely advanced automaton.

As for Alice herself, Norbert had moved her to a much nicer flat within walking distance of Norbert's house. Since he owned the flats, Alice could stay rent-free. Alice also noticed her father's creditors had stopped calling. A secret look through the ledgers told her that Norbert had paid the worst of Father's debts, but he still owed more than ten times the annual salary Alice had been offered by the Third Ward. This problem, of course, would evaporate the moment Alice said, “I do.”

Alice passed the majority of her days in Norbert's house, ostensibly to take care of her father, and she did spend a fair amount of time doing just that, of course. After Norbert had announced their engagement in the
Times
, he had offered to move Arthur out of that run-down residence and into Norbert's own home, where he would be warm and the resident automatons could see to his needs with tireless attention to detail, since Alice couldn't provide round-the-clock care even in her own flat, and a hospital was out of the question. Alice, naturally, could not fully move in with Norbert. That would be far from proper. However, her father provided a built-in chaperone, which meant she could visit at any time, even if Father spent the entire visit shut up in his room with the heat on. As long as the proprieties were observed, society would approve.

This is what you wanted
, she told herself.
Father's debts are paid, he's happy you're “taken care of,” he spends his remaining days in a suite of his own, and you... you have a wealthy, traditional husband—or you will very soon. Thousands of women would tread hot coals to trade places with you. You've won.

So why did it feel so much like losing?

Norbert swallowed the last of his chocolate, set his cup on the saucer with a
clink
, and checked his watch. “Nearly time,” he said. “Have you finished going through the household accounts?”

Alice nodded. One of her duties as Norbert's wife would be to keep track of domestic finances. The staggering sums she was to oversee had come as a bit of a shock. “I think I can keep the house's books without trouble.”

“You're very quick,” Norbert said, clearly pleased. “This evening, then, I'll show you the other task I'll need you to take on after we're married. It's hard to believe the wedding's less than three months away.”

“What task is that?” Alice asked.

“No time to explain it now,” he said, rising. “I'll be late. You're beautiful.” He kissed her on the cheek and left exactly on time.

 

“Louisa Creek to see you, Madam,” said Kemp.

Alice all but leapt to her feet. “Don't keep her standing in the hall, Kemp. Show her in!”

Louisa didn't wait for the black-and-white automaton's permission. She bustled into the enormous drawing room and flung her arms around Alice. “I shall never forgive you,” she cried. “Never in my life!”

“It's nice to see you, too,” Alice said, hugging her back. “What did I do now?”

“It's what you haven't done.” The older woman held Alice at arm's length and looked her up and down. “Wonderful dress. Blue silk suits you, darling, and I've never liked crinolines, either. Maybe between the two of us we can start a revolution. Hairstyle from Paris, of course—good choice. Smashing necklace. I'll be borrowing that later. Shame about the shoes, but we'll work on those.”

“What's wrong with my shoes? And what are you never going to forgive me for?” Alice was trying not to laugh. “Really, Louisa, I haven't seen you for two months, and you're acting as if it's only been a day.”

“Best way to handle absences,” Louisa declared stoutly. “And I'm never forgiving you because you
still
haven't called on me. Not once, even after you get back from having your wedding dress made in Paris! You got back two
weeks
ago, darling.”

“I have no excuse. I'm a terrible person, and I throw myself on your mercy.”

“Noted,” Louisa sniffed. “I won't even
mention
that you didn't even send me a postcard and that I learned about your arrival by reading the
Times.
”

“I've been planning!” Alice protested.

“Is that what you call it? Show the dress. Now.”

“I can't. It's being shipped, and I do promise to let you know the moment it arrives so you can see it.”

“So you say.” Louisa plumped herself into a chair. “Tell me
everything.
How was Paris?”

“Wonderful! I'd love to go back for our wedding trip, but Norbert wants to visit Spain and Italy.” Alice took a seat of her own. “I'll have to leave Kemp behind again—the Papists shun automatons that act human. He almost popped his gears when I told him.”

“My position is to ensure Madam's physical comfort, regardless of human spiritual concerns,” Kemp sniffed. “It is difficult to do so from across the Channel. Shall I bring the tea?”

“Yes, Kemp,” Alice said, and he stalked out. “Anyway, the dressmaker sews everything by machine, so she could make the dress almost overnight. It's incredible the times we live in, Louisa.”

“Yes, yes, very interesting.” Louisa leaned forward. “Norbert went along, didn't he?”

Alice colored. “Well, yes. But in a different train and he stayed in a different hotel, and I hired a maid who was with me every moment we—”

“So is he a good man, then?”

“Oh. Well, yes. So far. He doesn't shout or order me around or—”

“I
meant
,” Louisa interrupted, “is he any good where it counts, darling? In the bedroom.”

“Louisa!” Alice put a hand to her mouth. “Honestly!”

“Don't come over all shocked with me, darling. I practically fed him to you at that ghastly Greenfellow ball, and then you offer yourself up to him like a tabby to a tom and don't even drop me a
card
. After all that, you can certainly tell me if Norbie measures up after two months in Paris.”

“Louisa!” Alice flushed and tried to regain control of herself. “We haven't... All he's done is kiss me. On the cheek.”

“How English of him. Do you want some advice? There are a number of ways to stoke a man's furnace, if you—”

“No, no. I'm... I've read quite a lot, thank you. And planning has kept me busy, in any case. I think Father's on pins and needles.”

Louisa paused, and her tone became more tender. “How is your father?”

“As well as can be expected,” Alice said, feeling on safer ground.

“Don't
do
that,” Louisa admonished. “Everyone needs someone to talk to. It's why the Papists invented confession. How is he
really
?”

The safer ground had shifted. “Not well.” A bubble of anxiety rose up even as Alice said the words. “I was hoping that moving him here, with good food and warm rooms, would improve his health, but he's only gotten worse. It's as if he's decided to let himself go, now that I'm engaged. Oh, Louisa, I don't know what I'll do when he... when he . . .”

Louisa looked misty herself, and Alice wondered why—she had met Father only the one time. She reached over and patted Alice's hand. “It happens to us all,” Louisa said. “When the end comes, you have Norbert and me to help you through it.”

Kemp entered with the tea cart, the sound of the wheels muffled by the thick Persian rugs. He had already drawn back the drapes from the two-story windows to let in early-spring sunshine, which spilled across perfectly matched red velvet furniture, meticulously placed end tables, a perfect settee, and a fainting couch pulled just close enough to a square marble fireplace. And it was just one of dozens of what Norbert called “cozy little rooms.” Just one could have swallowed up the cold-water flat she had shared with her father, a fact that followed her every evening when Kemp accompanied her home to the new flat.

At first, Alice had spent these little walks glancing nervously over her shoulder for the grinning clockworker, but he hadn't appeared; after a few weeks, she had finally stopped looking. Alice had spent a large part of one day fruitlessly checking back issues of the
Times
for any mention of him. Now she was wondering if he had gone completely mad and died, as every clockworker inevitably did.

With that off her mind, however, she found herself a bit timid about exploring Norbert's house, as if she were an interloper. No, that wasn't quite it. The place intimidated her. The lack of human servants made the place echo like an empty cavern, and machines moved just out of her line of vision. It unnerved her. She knew it was silly—soon she'd be the lady of the place—but she'd put off exploring, even after all these months. It wasn't as if she had to do much. The automatons took care of the daily chores with no need for Alice to oversee them. Every evening, a spider brought her a punch card with menu choices for the next day's supper on it, and she poked out the ones she wanted. At her own flat, Kemp helped her dress, and he helped with her hair, and he brought her a tea tray. In fact, Kemp refused to allow any other automaton to wait on Alice at all. Even now Kemp fussed with the pillow on her chair while Alice poured for Louisa and herself.

“Is the room of a comfortable temperature, Madam?” he asked. “My thermometer indicates it may be chilly.”

“It's fine, Kemp. Thank you.” Alice added pointedly, “I'll ring if we need anything.”

“Yes, Madam.” Kemp withdrew with stiff formality.

Louisa dropped a sugar cube into her tea. “Is he listening outside the door?”

“Kemp, are you listening at the door?”

“Yes, Madam.”

“Please stop. Go check on Father.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Louisa sipped, then reached for a cake. “Rumor has it you had some mysterious visitors right around the time you became engaged.”

“Really?” Alice said in a neutral tone.

“An airship hovered over your father's row house for a considerable period just after an entire house disappeared at an estate outside London. And I seem to remember a certain calling card in your room. I have to wonder if these events are connected. Did you write that Teasdale woman?”

“Honestly, Louisa—how do you remember her name after all this time?”

“I remember everything about everyone, darling. That's what makes me so much fun at parties. So you
did
write her. Was she the one in the airship? Where did they take you?”

Alice opened her mouth to explain, to tell Louisa about the Third Ward, but what came out were the words, “I can't talk about it.” And then her mouth clamped shut. She remembered Lieutenant Phipps and her strange pistol full of flashing lights.

“What? I'm your closest friend. I told you about that incident with the undergardener when I was fourteen. Surely you can tell me about this.”

Alice tried again. “I can't talk about it.” She grimaced. “Louisa, I'm just . . . not allowed, all right? Please don't press. Help me explore the house instead. I haven't done it properly, and I don't want to do it on my own.”

“Oh, very well.” Louisa finished her cake and rose. “I can give you decorating advice.”

The first room they came across was a library. Books of all sizes and thicknesses lined enormous shelves and filled the air with the smell of leather and paper. A pigeonhole section contained scrolls. Alice skimmed the titles. Predictably, most of the books dealt with physics, automatics, chemistry, and other sciences. Alice pulled several volumes on automatics and set them on a table. Each one held a punch card in it like a bookmark.

“What are the cards for?” Louisa asked.

“Spiders can't read,” Alice said. “The punch card tells them what the book is and where it should be shelved.”

“I've never been one for reading,” Louisa said. “Except the
Times
and bombastic fiction, which are much the same thing.”

“You,” Alice said to a spider that was industriously running a feather duster over a set of atlases. The spider paused and turned to face her. “Leave these here, please. I want to read them later.” The spider squeaked once and set back to work.

“You know,” Louisa said as they exited, “everyone who's anyone is wondering when you're going to hold some sort of event in this mausoleum. A large tea for the right ladies, a small dinner for forty, perhaps even a dance. You do have a ballroom, don't you?”

“I think it's down that way,” Alice said. “And you're right, of course—it's what everyone expects.” She thought of issuing invitations, hiring musicians, arranging food, and coordinating service, and more, more, more. Alice grimaced.

“It's overwhelming,” she said. “I know what to do in theory, but I didn't grow up watching my mother organize large events and order servants about.”

“I'll be right here to help, darling—as long as you do something outrageous.”

“Oh, Louisa, I don't know if that's me. I'm not Ad Hoc, you know, and I have no plans to become so.”

“I didn't say
scandalous.
I said
outrageous.
We need to get everyone talking about you.”

“You mean they aren't already?”

Louisa made a noncommital noise. “We'll start small with the tea I mentioned. They're appropriate for a fiancée, since Norbie has no other female in his life to handle such things for him. After the wedding, we'll work through the dinners up to a major ball next season. I think your dinners will have to be exciting in some way, to make sure everyone wants to come.”