The Doomsday Vault (36 page)

Gavin offered her a hand into the cab, and she felt as if she were leaving home instead of heading toward it. He shut the door and suddenly leaned through the open side window. The driver checked the horses.

“Listen,” Gavin said. “The first thing I bought for myself when I got my salary was a pair of standing tickets to the symphony at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. The orchestra plays twice a month, and the next performance is tomorrow. Come with me. As my friend.”

“I can't, Gavin.” She didn't think her heart could stand being torn so often and still keep beating. “Please don't ask again. It hurts too much.”

He reached for her hand, then pulled back when she shied away. The damp invaded the cab and clung to her skirts. “You're right,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

“I need to go,” Alice whispered. “Norbert is worried.”

Gavin's eyes were bright. “He is. I know he is.” He stepped back from the hack, and the driver clicked to the horses. Alice had to turn and watch him as the cab pulled away. In seconds, the fog devoured Gavin in whiteness, and he was gone.

Norbert was waiting for her when she got home. His brown eyes were worried but reserved. “So,” he said, “what happened?”

Alice handed her borrowed straw hat to the footman, who managed to take it with disdain despite its painted features. “I was delayed.”

“Overnight?” His voice rose a little on the last syllable.

“It wasn't planned. Get me a cup of tea and I'll explain.”

Over a hot drink in the parlor, she gave him the half lie, that she had gone after the stolen machines on her own and gotten them back from Barton by herself, thereby protecting Norbert's reputation. She left Gavin out of it entirely, and since Phipps had arranged for the newspapers to remain silent, there was no way for Norbert to gainsay her.

Norbert had narrowed his eyes just a little as she finished her story, and she was sure he didn't believe her. For a moment, she thought he was going to call her out. But then he nodded. Everything remained smooth and tidy as a newly swept rug. Norbert drained his whiskey glass and set it down hard.

“I'm glad you're all right,” he said. “Let's elope.”

Alice's hand jerked, and she slopped tea into her saucer. “What?”

“Let's elope,” Norbert repeated. “We're not planning a big wedding, anyway. You've often called for simplicity, and nothing is simpler than eloping. Besides, your little adventure showed me how easily I could . . . lose you. How about the end of the week?”

Alice felt as if she'd been whacked on the back of the head with a board. The room remained silent except for the faint hissing of the radiators and the soft crackle of the fire in the grate. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn against damp evening fog, and it felt as if they would eat any answer she gave. What could she say to this? She couldn't help comparing dry, stolid Norbert and the squalid secrets he kept in a square, mechanical house to bright, merry Gavin and the golden music he made in a rose-strewn tower. The comparison made her want to fling her cup down and flee.

“Tongues have been wagging at the amount of time you spend here,” Norbert said into the silence, “even if nothing untoward is happening. People know your father is an invalid and not much of a chaperone. I'd hate to move him out at this stage just for the sake of propriety.”

Alice froze at the implied threat. “Of course not,” she said faintly.

“And I forgot to mention—some bill collectors came round while you were gone. I put them off, but they said they'd be back. Something about criminal charges again. Rubbish, of course, and a good legal man would put a quick stop to it. I have an excellent barrister and a team of solicitors on staff, so you needn't worry that your father will be dragged to jail. As long as I'm on your side.”

“Oh,” Alice said. Her social reflexes took over, and her mouth moved of its own accord. “Thank you. That's . . . You're very kind.”

“Nothing's too good for my fiancée.” Norbert sipped his drink again and looked at her hard. “It would be much easier to handle these problems if we were married. I can't pay the debts of a young woman I'm not married to. People would say it was—well, you know what they would say. And people
do
say.”

“Right,” she said. Norbert's arguments were hot pokers drilling through an armor Alice had only recently managed to build. Norbert was right. More importantly, Norbert was
safe.
Alice didn't know what Gavin wanted from her, not really, but Norbert had never been anything but forthright about his expectations. With Norbert, her future might be dull, but it was absolutely certain. Gavin offered excitement, but with it came chaos, for both her and her father. It wasn't fair to punish Father for her choices.

“At any rate,” Norbert said, sipping again, “to the matter at hand. Time's running out. Shall we elope?”

He didn't say the word
or
, but it hung in the air nonetheless, harsher for all its silence. Alice forced a smile over her cup.

“Of course, darling,” she said. “What other answer could I give?”

 

Louisa snipped the head off a rose and dropped it into the water bowl, where it floated like a drop of blood. “I want the truth. Rumor has it you're eloping.”

Alice jumped and nearly dropped the daisies in her hand. She and Louisa were standing at a table in the sunroom, arranging flowers because the automatons were no good at it. Outdoors it was cloudy, but the sunroom's tall windows were still thrown open to let in the mild summer breeze and interesting traffic noises. Lately, Alice had taken to letting her little automatons loose about the house—no sense in keeping them cooped up in her workshop in a houseful of larger automatons—and a pair of them flittered about the room like whirligig bats. Click, draped lazily over the fireplace mantel, watched them with slitted green eyes. Kemp, newly repaired after his unfortunate encounter with Patrick Barton in the metalsmith shop, stood in the corner.

“Where did you hear that?” Alice demanded. “We only decided yesterday evening and haven't said a word to anyone.”

“So it's true, then.” Louisa toyed with a clockwork button on the front of her green satin dress. “By
we
, do you mean you and Norbert, or you and Gavin Ennock?”

“Louisa! It's Norbert, of course! ”The whirligigs squeaked and rushed out an open window, as if startled by Alice's outburst. Click jumped down and bolted after them. “We're getting married in three days, in fact. But you still didn't say how you heard about it.”

“Please, darling!” Louisa snipped off more rose heads and let them fall into the bowl. “I know all and tell nothing. I just don't understand why you're sticking with Norbie after learning about his . . . odder habits. I was
there
, darling, so you can't lie about it.”

“I don't want to go into it again, Louisa. I've already had it out with Gav—Mr. Ennock on this topic. Can't we just drop it?”

“No.”

Alice blinked at the sharpness in Louisa's tone. “No?”

“No. It's clear to me that you're unhappy with Norbert and that you're only marrying him for his money.”

“And he's only marrying me for my title. It happens all the time, Louisa.”

“That doesn't make it right or desirable.”

Alice jammed the daisies into a vase and stuffed in some baby's breath. “Why the sudden change of tone? You've always supported whatever decision I've made so far. Now you're gainsaying me.”

“There's no time left, darling. Not with your freedom ticking away like a dying automaton. Why so sudden?”

“We saw no reason to delay further,” Alice said, resolving to stay firm.

“Ah. Norbert suspects there's something going on between you and Gavin, and he wants you married quickly.”

Heat rose in Alice's chest. “Nothing is going on between us!”

“The color in your face says otherwise,” Louisa replied. “However, we can talk about something else. Such as the young man who's about to burst into the room with fascinating news.”

“Young—what?” The abrupt shift derailed Alice's train of thought. “Who are you—? What—?”

“You're a landed fish, darling. Ah, here he is.”

Hat still on his dark head, Simon d'Arco rushed into the room, brown eyes wide and wild. One of the automatic footmen trailed him. Its face had been dented, apparently in an unsuccessful attempt to bar Simon's way. Kemp also stepped forward.

“Miss Michaels!” Simon panted. “Quick! You have to come!”

“Zzzzzir!” buzzed the footman. “Zzzzzzir, you muzzzzzt leavvvvve at—”

“It's all right, Charles,” Alice told it. “You may go. Stand down, Kemp. Mr. d'Arco, what do you mean by bursting in like this?”

“Saw his horse through the window,” Louisa said. “I feel rather like a detective.”

“We need you, Miss Michaels,” Simon said. “At once!”

“Whatever for, Mr. d'Arco?” Alice replied. She kept her face calm, but underneath, her heart beat fast and she leaned forward with a growing excitement she could barely contain. “You have a number of people at your disposal.”

He glanced at Louisa, remembered himself, and snatched the hat off his head, revealing mussed black curls. “We,” he said, avoiding mention of the Third Ward, “captured a powerful war automaton in Germany, and we're transporting it to headquarters via dirigible. The automaton is too powerful to leave running about, and we've deactivated it so we can put it into the Doo—” He shot another glance at Louisa. “Into permanent storage. The ship carrying it will reach London airspace any moment.”

“What has this to do with me?” Alice asked.

“If that war machine falls into the wrong hands, thousands of lives could be lost,” Simon continued. “But we've received word from an anonymous source that a clockworker intends to steal it en route. We can't allow a lunatic to control such a machine, Miss Michaels.”

“I agree, Mr. d'Arco,” Alice said with a nod. “But I repeat: What has this to do—”

“Our information says the clockworker intends to use
your
automatons to capture the device.”

“What?” Alice leapt to her feet. “That's impossible!”

“Where's Click?” Louisa asked.

A frantic search turned up no sign of Click or of any of Alice's little automatons, though all Norbert's automatons seemed to be present. Alice remembered her whirligigs fleeing out the window with Click on their heels, but she hadn't thought anything of it at the time.

“Hurry!” Simon towed Alice's toward the door before she could even snatch up her hat. “The W—our associates are meeting us halfway.”

“I'll just let myself out, darling,” Louisa called. “Have fun!”

I
n moments, Alice found herself on a horse behind Simon, clutching his waist as they galloped through the streets of London. She nearly let loose with a little whoop. Perhaps this was how Queen Boadicea felt, though the ancient warrior queen probably hadn't ridden sidesaddle on the back of someone else's mount. Still, it was much more fun than drinking tea in a parlor.

Alice had no idea how Simon managed to negotiate traffic, but in very little time they arrived at the park. Hovering above it was the same little airship that had brought Alice and Gavin to Ward headquarters all those months ago. A short climb up a rope ladder brought her and Simon to the tiny bridge. Alice wasn't surprised in the least to find Gavin at the helm. Her heart did a little skip at seeing him there, his strong hands on the wheel and his black leathers contrasting sharply with his white-blond hair. His blue eyes held hers for a moment.

“Miss Michaels,” he said.

“Mr. Ennock.”
No
, she told herself firmly. She was eloping with Norbert, and that was that.

“I'm here, too,” Glenda spoke up. Alice hadn't even noticed her. “Simon, cast off. We're out of time.”

The propellers whirred madly, and the airship swung round to the east. Below, people went about their business. Airships over London were nothing special. Alice did wonder what was going to happen to Simon's horse.

“I don't understand any of this,” Alice said aloud. “All my windup automatons ran off, including Click, and now you tell me that you received a . . . a ‘tip' about it?”

“An anonymous telegram.” Glenda opened a hatchway and started pulling equipment from the little hold below. She handed bits to Simon, who assembled the pieces. “We decided to act as if the information were good. So far, it has been. The telegram mentioned the war machine—that's been a secret until now—and it mentioned your automatons getting involved.”

“How is that possible?”

Glenda shook her head. She was wearing trousers that clashed terribly with her woman's white blouse. “We don't know yet.”

The blocky city slid past below them, and the dirty gray scales of the Thames twisted across the landscape. Gavin was following its course. Up here, the air smelled cleaner, with no hint of coal smoke or manure. A flock of ravens tore through the air under the ship with their harsh caws and croaks. Perhaps two miles ahead glided a much larger dirigible, gray and slow as a pregnant whale.

“That's our transport,” Glenda said, pointing. “They're only lightly armed—weapons draw attention, and this was supposed to be a secret mission. We're right over Greenwich, so if our informant has it right, the attack will come at any minute.”

“Why are we the only ones out here?” Alice demanded. “Where's the rest of the Ward?”