The Earl of Brass (The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Book 1) (8 page)

The Dinner Party Debacle

Thus far, Eilian Sorrell had been pleasantly surprised by how his mother’s dinner party was turning out. The conversation at dinner had revolved around what parties and which balls each group would be attending, and it appeared as if his father and brother intended to be on their best behavior as no one had even mentioned Eilian except for his mother and Maxine. Since he had seen her last several years before, her features had grown finer, and she suddenly didn’t seem like the clingy girl who stalked him at every party. Her manners were impeccable, even better than Constance’s. Her voice was well manicured to sound level and thoughtful, and when paired with her beautifully coiffed hair and exotic, cat-like eyes, she was a sight that no man in the room could take his eyes off. When dinner was served, he gladly proffered his left arm to her as they walked into the dining room with the others, and he hadn’t noticed her staring at his prosthesis or scrutinizing him as Virtiline did from across the table.

As graceful and stylish as Maxine was, Virtiline was equally high-strung and frumpy. Her eyes were magnified by her thick spectacles to the point that she reminded him of a pop-eyed goldfish with frizzy blonde hair that seemed to grow bigger as the evening went on. From the moment she had entered his parents’ house, she had fluctuated between staring at his arm and completely averting her gaze as if he was the scene of some dreadful yet intoxicatingly curious steamer accident. Eilian had heard from his mother that she had been raised by a neurotic great-aunt because her father was often ill or away on business, and it showed in the way she fussed at every little thing. When the vegetables were brought around the table, she went on a tangent about her digestion, and when the other young ladies discussed the latest dance they were all eager to learn for the next big ball, she complained about how learning new things affected her nerves so adversely. Of all the young women he had met, he had never met one who acted so dreadfully old as Virtiline.

On the other hand, her brother Cecil was as highly polished as any young, eager aristocrat, and to his mother’s delight, he seemed to bond well with Maxine’s little sister Martha, who watched him out of the corner of her eye and beamed each time he spoke to her. Both were only a few seasons out and were eager to be paired-off or to at least have a suitor for the season. Halfway through dinner, Eilian confirmed that the Earl of Bedford and his wife were carbon-copies of his parents. He watched them discuss current events and politics, and of course, they were always of the same conservative opinion.

After the course-laden dinner was finished, Millicent Sorrell led the party into the parlor for some coffee and tea. As Eilian stood up, his prosthesis slipped down, chafing the raw skin on the inside of his arm. The previous night he had noticed that his scarred skin was being bruised and rubbed red by the leather bracings of the prosthesis and hoped it would dissipate by the time the party began, but when Patrick had tried to affix the arm that afternoon, the limb had swelled so much that he had to buckle the straps one hole looser than normal. Eilian tried to walk behind the others as if nothing was wrong, but with each stride, the arm swung rhythmically, smacking him in the chest. As the sounds of the piano playing and Constance’s shrill singing filled the hall, he sidestepped the doorway and attempted to tug up the belt, but the arm didn’t seem to become any more stable.
If only Patrick was around
, he thought, knowing his butler was probably below in the servants’ hall eating his dinner or upstairs tending to his clothes. Unfortunately, he would be missed if he slipped away. Using his other hand, he carefully tucked the prosthetic arm closer to his body and headed into the parlor, hoping no one would see that one arm was longer than the other. He quietly settled beside Maxine, who smiled at his approach and moved her skirts to allow him to sit near her.

“I heard you went to India recently. Did you enjoy your trip?” he asked politely with what he hoped was an amiable grin that would mask his anxiety.

“It was… interesting,” she replied slowly, looking down at her coffee. “I found it dreadfully hot and frightfully dull. My uncle was always busy, and none of the servants could speak a word of English. I sat inside trying not to burn my skin or catch anything from all the insects. Mother told me you love India, but honestly, I don’t know how you can.”

He searched her face, hoping for some hint of sarcasm or jest but found nothing. The glow that attracted him to her was rapidly waning. “You just need a proper guide. If you do not have anyone who knows the culture, then you will never get past the British part of India. Did you see the Taj Mahal or any of the temples?”

“No, but I really did not care to. After going to the market, I really did not see any point as I didn’t enjoy myself. The streets are entirely too crowded, and the whole time I was there I didn’t see a single steamer or airship. I would have much preferred to see the country from above than on the ground with all the dirty natives.”

Eilian cringed at that word. “It really isn’t that bad. Obviously, the people live much differently than we do, but we cannot discount their way of life.”

“It is our duty as Englishmen to lead these people to a better life,” the Earl of Bedford added with a nod to his daughter. “Our queen is their empress, and with her rule, they will move toward a more civilized way of life.”

His father chuckled. “Lord Bedford, you are wasting your time. There is no way to get through to him. He sympathizes with the savages no matter where he is. Did you tell them where you are running off to next?”

“The— the Negev Desert in— in Palestine,” he stammered, feeling his face flush as the men stared at him.

Maxine’s face suddenly brightened. “Do you have a diplomatic post there?”

Before he could open his mouth to speak, Harland Sorrell replied, “He is going there to dig in the dirt with Sir Joshua Peregrine to find some petty trinkets.”

“Father, I’m going there to dig for artifacts. Before the British Empire came in, they lived for thousands of years without outside interference. They made technological advancements long before our culture had even thought of them. While we were in the dark ages, they were flourishing.”

“Obviously, they didn’t run their civilization very well, or they would be the ones colonizing us and we would be wearing pajamas all day.”

The two older men laughed together as Eilian looked on in stricken horror. Somehow he never expected so much blatant racism in his mother’s house, yet at the same time, he wasn’t particularly surprised.

“Do you really think it is fair that we pillage their land for the things
we
need while giving them nothing in return? The colonies aren’t even allowed to have steamers or dirigibles of their own by the queen’s decree. How do we expect them to modernize and be like us if we don’t give them the tools needed to flourish? It’s obvious that the government doesn’t want them to reach our status. They only want them to be endless depositories England can take from whenever she needs to.”

“Who would want them to? The queen and parliament would have to be out of their minds to give them the means to possibly overthrow us. If they had airships or steamers, they could make them into weapons and rise up against the empire,” Lord Bedford replied matter-of-factly between sips of coffee.

“Some species are just more advanced than others, Son. As an advanced species, it is the duty of an Englishman to instruct the lesser peoples on how to effectively live respectable lives.”

“But, Father, who are we to judge them as lesser? Civilizations wax and wane. It’s a natural cycle, and one day the sun will set on the British Empire.”

“The sun
never
sets on the British Empire,” his father snapped.

With a start, Eilian realized all eyes were on him. He shifted under their gazes, causing the arm to swing slightly. “I just think people deserve to have their customs and way of life respected rather than having them forcibly Anglicized.”

“Oh, it sounds dreadful to go overseas,” Virtiline piped up, her hands trembling nervously, splashing little droplets of coffee onto the saucer. “You have to get accustomed to the new food, new air, different water, and all those new people breathing all around you. I don’t think my constitution could handle it.”

“Well, I don’t think my constitution can handle all this talk of politics and anti-British sentiment,” Maxine chided as she got up and stood beside Dylan at the piano where her sister and Constance still played blissfully unaware.

Eilian sighed softly. He had never meant for it to go this far, but he couldn’t help himself. On his travels, he had seen too much cruelty and unfounded prejudice. He loved the variety of people he met, learning about their cultures and religions, and seeing what their ancient ancestors could teach him through the artifacts he found beneath the earth. A grin crossed his face as he revisited the dig sites he loved and the tents he stayed in under the stars. Even the scorpion that had terrified him when it wandered into his cot now brought a smile to his face.

“Lord Sorrell,” Lord Bedford called, “you say the Empire offers nothing to its colonies, but does it not give them protection and prestige? Without the queen’s influence, they are nothing and are constantly feuding amongst their many rulers. Could they function without our intervention?”

“Before we came rolling into their lands with weapons and money, they were getting along just fine with their numerous rulers and occasional infighting. We bribed their rulers to be passive. Who do they need protection from except those who would seek to make them subjects of their empires? We aren’t protecting them, we are hoarding them for their resources and making sure they are never economically strong enough to rise against us and break away.”

“Why should we have them colonize
us
by giving them an equal share?”

“Don’t you see? They don’t want to colonize us. Imperialism is a very western concept. We always want more, but they never felt the need to take over all of Asia. Have you ever been to India or the East, Lord Bedford?”

“No, but I don’t need to travel to understand what is going on. I read the papers every day.”

“Do you read British papers exclusively?”

“Of course, what else is worth reading?” he chuckled, giving Lord Dorset a knowing look.

“If you read the papers from India, you would get a different perspective on how it’s to be a colonial subject. You can pick them up in the foreign districts all over the city. To believe only what you read from politicians is lunacy. ”

“What you call lunacy, I call loyalty to the crown.”

As Eilian opened his mouth to speak, he saw his mother’s eyes travel from Lady Bedford to his face, giving him the signal to stand down and drop the argument, but his father’s laughter and the mischievous glint in his eye gave him the impression of a setup. He had meant to humiliate him in front of everyone

“I think I shall go to bed. I suddenly do not feel myself.”

Without waiting for a reply, he stood and marched toward the door, making certain not to make eye contact with his father. He couldn’t bear to be pulled back into the unwinnable argument again. His mind ran through the statements he had made but found nothing that would make Maxine disapprove of him and cause him to be deemed disloyal. As Eilian stepped toward the threshold, the leather strap on his arm unfurled. With a crash, the prosthesis hit the floor, skidding toward the middle of the room. A shriek erupted from Virtiline’s lips as she fell backwards onto the couch, spilling coffee down her dress and onto the cream upholstery. He froze as twenty eyes locked on him in disapproval and shock. Mutely snatching the porcelain arm off the rug, Eilian backed out the room with his right sleeve of his dinner jacket swinging with each harried step.

To Quote Miss Austen

Eilian slowed his bicycle as he passed the glossy, black door of thirty-six Wimpole Street, wobbling slightly as he peddled backwards. He sat back for a minute merely staring at the house before he finally rested his velocipede against the rail and trotted up the stone steps.
A perfect touch
, he mused as a smile crept across his cheeks. Enthusiastically banging the jaw of the doorknocker, he watched through the gap in the heavily curtained windows as Eliza Hawthorne appeared at the end of the hall. At first, the doctor looked put-out at having to answer the door, but upon registering who was there, her face brightened.

“Eilian, what a pleasant surprise. Please, come in.” She glanced over his shoulder. “Do bring your bicycle inside, or one of Mrs. Mercer’s dreadful children will ride off with it. Those little urchins commandeered a vacant steamer last week. Oh, where are my manners? Let me help you.”

“I can get it myself,” he reassured as he easily hefted it with his left arm, using what remained of his right to support the bicycle’s frame as he half dragged it up to the door.

He carefully carried it into the foyer and rested it against the steps but made certain the dirty wheels and greased gears did not touch the floral wall paper. As he followed Mrs. Hawthorne into the parlor, he inhaled the musty perfume of the cabinets of curiosities, noting their astringent undertone. It came not only from the preserved specimens but from the vapors rising through the floorboards from James’s laboratory. While the Hawthornes’ collection was much more macabre than his, he used their parlor as a model for his study. Eilian loved how every time he came to call on them, he was greeted by some new object that caught his eye within the shelves or curio cabinets. This time it was a tall jar that contained a human brain and spinal cord bobbing within its formaldehyde bath. There were little nodules of flesh protruding from the nervous tissue, and even though Eilian noticed the abnormality, he knew there was little hope he would ever understand the explanation of the disease if he asked for one. Eliza smiled to herself as she watched her friend’s eyes scan the shelves as he did each time he stopped by. What the adventurer didn’t know was when she knew he was in town, she made sure to have something new out in the open for him to discover.

“Are you here to visit James or both of us, Eilian?” she called as she stepped into the kitchen to check if the tea kettle she had put on the stove earlier for herself was ready. “He should be up fairly soon. He has been in the cellar all morning conducting an experiment.”

“I came to visit both of you.” He grinned warmly as he finally took his seat near the hearth. “I couldn’t come to town without calling on my friends. I would like to apologize for the rather short notice, Eliza.”

“I don’t mind at all. I would have been surprised if you had not stopped by while you were in town. I hope I didn’t look too bothered when I answered the door, but your knock was the tenth today. Our neighbor had new cards printed, and the house number says thirty-six instead of thirty-eight Wimpole Street. This little mistake would not be so bad except he has a rather large practice and is too thrifty to get them reprinted. Now, I’m forced to redirect all his patients.”

“That explains your delightful new doorknocker.”

“Yes, it gives them pause, and usually, they check the plaque on the house and go next door.” Eliza loaded the tray with little cakes and snacks as the kettle finally let out a screeching whistle. “I was at the tea house the other day and overheard Mrs. Sorrell talking about how Lady Dorset was hosting a dinner party. Did you enjoy yourself?”

She continued gathering cups and spoons until she realized he never answered. Eliza repeated her question slightly louder but was once again met with only silence. Poking her head out of the kitchen, she noticed how Eilian’s distrait, grey eyes stared at the cloaked window while his mouth was drawn bitterly straight. It was unlike him to be so somber. As she came in with the tea, she intentionally allowed the empty cups to clink together on the tray. Lord Sorrell snapped to attention and smiled at her as if nothing was amiss.

“How was the party?”

The corner of his mouth stiffly curled. “Fine. The food was good.”

“Who was there?” Eliza asked as she poured her guest some Earl Grey.

“My parents, Dylan and Constance, the Earl of Bedford along with his wife and two daughters, and the Lord Lisle’s daughter and son.”

“Which daughter was Lady Dorset trying to marry you off to?”

Eilian stopped gnawing at the cake and shook his head. “You know my mother too well. The earl’s eldest daughter Maxine was her prime choice.”

“Well, you know ‘it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,’” she quoted between measured sips of tea.

“I would hate to disappoint Miss Austen and my mother, but I’m not in want of a wife. What I’m in want of is a ticket out of England.”

An inaudible sigh seeped from the adventurer’s lungs, sagging his sturdy chest and shoulders. With downcast eyes, he swirled what little liquid remained in his teacup and stared at it, hoping the solution would materialize in the soggy tea leaves. He chewed on his lip. Eliza was someone he could trust with his life, but what happened was embarrassing in so many ways. Eilian looked down as her thin hand curled around his, squeezing it reassuringly. His face was uncharacteristically strained as he met her green-eyed gaze, which finally worked the words free from his mouth.

“It went horribly. The whole visit was a disaster. Maxine and I were getting on quite well until our fathers decided to bring up the politics of the colonies. Of course I tried to stand up for the native populations, but they twisted it to make me look like some sort of traitor to the crown. I’m glad to have seen her for the vain woman she really is, but it only got worse. To completely solidify her disgust, my own body turned against me at the most inopportune time. My prosthesis fell off as I left the argument. I didn’t think I could look any worse until I was reduced to not only an apostate but a leprous pariah. Upon seeing my dismembered arm, the viscount’s daughter fainted, which then caused a new uproar. All I could do was grab my prosthesis and run upstairs with my tail between my legs.”

“Oh, Eilian, I’m so sorry.”

“When did I become this, Eliza? It’s as if all they notice is that I’m missing an arm. Is that such an unforgivable flaw?” he searched, his voice loosened with emotion.

He gave little resistance when she pulled the teacup from his grip and placed it on the side table before clasping his hand between hers again. “Do you not realize how lucky you are to even be attending a party? You have cheated death and recovered better and faster than any of us could have anticipated. If they can’t appreciate you without your arm, then they serve no purpose in your life.”

“I know.” Eilian sniffed, pulling himself together. “I will be able to escape them in a few months. Sir Joshua has invited me to go to an excavation with him in the Negev Desert.”

“That is wonderful. The fresh air and freedom will do you good. If you have something fun to look forward to, why are you still so troubled?”

“Deep down, I just worry they are right. What if I go to Palestine and am completely useless? I don’t want to be a nuisance. I want to be as useful as I was before.”

Eliza Hawthorne lightly tapped her spoon against her saucer as she toyed with whether or not to mention Hadley’s project and how much to mention about the craftswoman. How could she get to the heart of the matter without giving her cousin away? The earl-to-be was open-minded, but from her own experience, she knew that a woman’s open-mindedness often exceeded that of her male counterparts.

“The other day, my craftsman friend, the one you bought your prosthetic arm from, stopped by. While sitting in the very chair you are in, he told me about this revolutionary prosthesis he only recently developed. I think it could solve some of your problems,” she began slowly, carefully monitoring how much she said.

He sighed. “I’m not sure. My old prosthesis is what got me into this mess.”

“This one is very different. It’s not a cosmetic prosthesis but a functional one. It will be custom made for you and secured to your body, so you won’t have to worry about it suddenly popping off like the old one. The best thing about it is, it uses electricity to open and close the hand as if it’s still part of your body. You will probably be able to pick things up and even carry them if they are light enough. It may even appease your family since it actually resembles a normal hand.”

Before Eilian could reply, the cellar door whined opened, and even without seeing him, it was clear James Hawthorne had finally surfaced from his lab. Preceding his willowy form was the pungent odor of Thames water and putrefied flesh. The doctor was only in his shirtsleeves, but it was covered by an apron that was spattered with fishy, black gunk with the consistency of congealed blood. He pulled off his gloves and washed his hands at the sink. Without turning, he stuffed a large chunk of bread into his mouth and readied the kettle for another round of tea. Eliza Hawthorne cleared her throat, causing her husband to finally face them as he guiltily swallowed the snack whole.

“Eilian,” he smiled, “I had no idea you were here. I would shake your hand, but I don’t think I should, considering what I have been handling downstairs. Did you tell him about how the new arm Had—” he stuttered as Eliza shot him a sharp look over the armchair’s back, “happens to be for a missing forearm?”

The young archaeologist shook his head in disbelief. “It’s as if this was made for me. May I have your friend’s address? I would love to pay him a visit before I leave town today.”

“Oh, that’s impossible. When we spoke, he said he would be going out to the country to give a consultation today and would not be back until nightfall, but I can stop in tomorrow to make you an appointment for the following day.”

His signature grin of genuine delight spread across his face. “Would you? That would be splendid. I’m planning on heading back to my house tonight, so send him there sometime in the afternoon. If that time doesn’t work for him, tell him to send me a date when he can come.”

“I’m fairly certain he will be free then.”

For the first time in days, joy fluttered through his chest, stretching his features back into their open state and making the scarce amount of light defiantly breaking through the velvet curtains seem so much brighter. He poured each of them another cup of tea and heartily snacked on the Hawthornes’ spread, allowing the warmth of happiness to soak into every part of his being.

He cleared his throat, stifling his own mirth. “So how is that toy-maker cousin of yours?”