Rise of the Arcane Fire Page 12

  Now my mind pieced together the various joints and connectors of the mermaid’s tail and undulating body. A bit of pride filled my heart, along with a certain sadness. I felt I could see behind the magician’s cloak and now knew how the trick had been done.

  The watery light glinted off her corroded scales, and lake weed streamed from her wire hair, making her look both ghostly and horrifically beautiful at once. In spite of knowing the mechanics, I could still appreciate her haunting beauty.

  Soon others joined her, swimming in and out of view as they moved along their preordained paths. Their glass eyes had grown foggy, and their elegant tails hitched slightly with every hypnotic sweep through the dark water.

  The murmurs around me turned hushed and reverent. People spoke of the time when the mermaids had been new and shining as they’d swum in and out of the elusive light.

  I tried to imagine it, but with the streaming plants and the corroded metal, to me they seemed real, alive and not at all like machines. Or perhaps the illusion of life came from their likeness to death.

  “My dear friends.” The voice of the dowager countess echoed in the cavernous glass room. Those around me hushed and turned to where she stood on a platform. “It is with great sorrow that I invite you here to honor the legacy of my dearly beloved husband. In our darkest hour, when the loss of so many of our finest and most well-connected members nearly drove us to despair, he in his great wisdom and bravery stood up to the evil that had tormented our Order and sacrificed his life to save us all. . . .”

  Her voice trailed off as the dark mass of spectators parted for a single hooded figure. The person, draped from head to toe in a long and heavy black cloak, walked slowly to the center of the room. At first a sharp jolt of fear shook me, and I tucked myself behind a rather portly Amusementist. Then I realized the figure in the cape was too small and too slight to be the man in the clockwork mask.

  Oh, dear Lord.

  Realizing who it was, I jumped forward, jostling the man in front of me. What was she thinking? I had to get to her before she made a fool of—

  Lucinda whipped the cape from her shoulders with a flourish, standing tall, with her chin held high, in a flaming red dress. Her hair flowed loose over her shoulders and back, wild and uninhibited. She glowed like an ember in the sea of black, her fury and defiance burning brightly beneath the water.

  Several people gasped, and one woman near the back fainted.

  “Yes, Mother. Let’s celebrate him.” Lucinda didn’t look at anything but her mother’s heavy veil.

  The veil slowly lifted as the dowager countess pulled it back. She had sharp and striking features that might once have been considered beautiful, but the look on her face now could have turned half the assembly to stone.

  “How dare you?” The countess glared at her daughter. “You have no cause to ever speak ill of such a great man.”

  Lucinda laughed. “How dare I? How dare you, Mother? We all know whom this charade of a funeral is for. You couldn’t resist a chance to flaunt your wealth in front of the Order. The rest of this is nothing but a farce. There has never been love here except for money and power.”

  “You are in no position!”

  Lucinda tossed her hair back with a fierce shake of her head. “No. I am in the perfect position to tell everyone the kind of man Alastair Harrington really was.”

  I couldn’t move. I felt as if I were watching some horrible drama play out on a stage, and I was merely a voiceless witness in the audience. I was one of the few who knew how deep the depravity of the old earl had reached, but he was dead and gone. The only person Lucinda could hurt with the truth was her mother. And she seemed fixed on doing it. Then David stepped forward.

  I felt my heart jump to my throat as Lucinda’s composure cracked for the first time. The fist she’d held before her loosened, and her eyes darted from her younger brother back to the glare of the countess, as if whatever devil had possessed her had now suddenly fled.

  “Sister?” David approached her, his usual arrogance gone in the wake of the confusion painted on his face. A young and gangly girl that had to be Lucinda’s younger sister took her brother’s hand. The girl couldn’t have been more than twelve, her visage stricken with love and worry for her sister. David tucked his younger sister behind him and turned his attention back to Lucinda. “I don’t understand. What do you mean by this?”

  Lucinda no longer looked up at the countess. She blinked rapidly as she pressed her lips together, then opened them as if to speak, but nothing came out. I knew what she desperately wanted to say. I knew how it must have been killing her inside that no one knew it had been her father who had murdered her beloved husband in cold blood.

  I knew that every time someone blithely blamed poor mad Rathford for her father’s murderous acts, or her mother flaunted his legacy, she died inside. She had confessed as much to me. I could see in her face how desperately she wanted to speak, but she didn’t. If she did, it would ruin her brother.

  Whatever she had been thinking when she’d planned this stunt, I couldn’t begin to fathom. I understood her desire to chastise her mother for defending a monster, but she had clearly forgotten about the other lives at stake. Now she was caught in a trap, and I hated to see her so torn.

  Oliver came up behind her, and for the first time since she’d entered the room, I felt my shoulders loosen. He pressed his face to the side of hers and whispered something into her ear. I couldn’t see his expression with his eye covered by the patch, but he took her hand, and her body folded into his in a defeated way as he led her back out the way she’d come.

  She had been poised to ruin the Harrington name for all time. I glanced at David. His brow had furrowed, as if deep in thought. A shadow came over him as if the specter of his father had risen. I could almost feel the presence of the old earl hanging over the lot of us.

  The chamber erupted with hundreds of voices at once.

  I had to escape. I knew too much, and if I weren’t careful, I would ruin the entire Harrington line by blurting out the truth.

  I blew out my candle and pushed through the crowd. I needed air. Bits and pieces of conversation struck me as I passed.

  “Well, she’s always been that way. Impetuous to a fault and too willing to ruin the reputation of her family, for what? Love?” An older woman with a rather beakish nose and narrow eyes cackled a jarring, crow-like laugh. A younger woman with ash-blond hair and the same unfortunate nose smiled maliciously at me. “Love is for fools and never brought a woman to greatness.”

  I slowed my step. I had assumed they were talking about Lucinda, but as the younger girl watched me, I wondered if their words weren’t meant for me.

  “Wouldn’t you agree, Meg?” the girl asked, her toothy smile widening.

  That stopped me in my tracks. For as much as I wanted to insist upon my fellow apprentices calling me by my given name, the girl had said it as if she were addressing her maid. I couldn’t let the insult stand.

  “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” My tone was hardly polite. The older woman, most likely the girl’s mother, noticed and turned to us. “And you are?” I asked.

  The mother had the sense to feign surprise at my presence. “Why, if it isn’t the little Whitlock girl,” she said in greeting.

  A very old matron with a face like carved granite and eyes just as hard turned to us. “Lady Thornby, if you care to spare your fragile ego, take your harpy of a daughter and be gone, before I introduce you to Miss Whitlock properly. I haven’t had occasion to exercise my more colorful vocabulary lately. If you wish to increase your tediousness, please, continue to grace us with your presence.”

  The hook-nosed Lady Thornby gave me a simper even as she looked at the old woman with a mix of both terror and bluster. The Thornby woman bore a striking resemblance to a long-necked bird. A goose. Definitely a goose. “Lady Chadwick, I apologize. I didn’t see you there. I assure you, I meant no offense. I was honestly surprised by the child, th
at is all. I’m quite pleased to make her acquaintance. She needs some fine associations among the other women if she wishes to purge the taint of her unfortunate education.”

  Of all the nerve.

  Lady Chadwick leaned heavily on a cane with a brass eagle head at the top. The fires of battle burned in her eyes, and she smiled with a thin press of her lips. She tipped her head, the tall, jet-black dyed pheasant feathers on her hat twitching slightly as she considered Lady Thornby. So this was Oliver’s formidable grandmother.

  “Perhaps,” the dowager duchess said. “But some connections are finer than others. I am sure Miss Whitlock has enough intelligence not to ruin her family’s fortunes, unlike some people here.”

  “After this debacle I wouldn’t be surprised if your grandson’s future wife is never invited to another Society function again. I don’t care if she is to be the Duchess of Chadwick.” Lady Thornby’s daughter, who had been watching the exchange, giggled behind her hand.

  How dare they?

  Lucinda had been a part of their “Society” for all her life. She had grown up under the pressure of their scrutiny, and now that she’d found the courage to attempt to defy the lot of them, they set their tongues wagging like a bunch of chattering hens ready to crucify her.

  “Yes, strong head, fickle heart in that one. Such a temperament tends to cause difficulties in our politics, but it has never caused as much ruin as blind ambition.” The duchess arched a knowing brow at me.

  It seemed I was being conscripted to fight in this war. Very well. I could handle myself. Determined to tell them exactly what I thought, I answered, “If the Order bases power and influence on family connections, the vagaries of the human heart will always be a variable. The intelligent course of action would be to give up on manipulating the system through marriage entirely and distribute power equitably through merit alone.”

  “Rubbish.” Lady Thornby screwed her face up as if she had just tasted something foul. I was pretty certain it was her own tongue. “Do not listen to her, Lady Chadwick. She is young and foolish, if her own marriage prospects and latest embarrassment with this apprentice nonsense are any indication.”

  Lady Chadwick grinned in a way that reminded me very much of her grandson. “I would agree with you, Lady Thornby, except Miss Whitlock’s family has a long-standing tradition of following the whims of their hearts.” Lady Chadwick tilted her head. The twitching feathers looked as if they were holding back laughter.

  “And what has it gotten them?” Lady Thornby asked. “Nothing but tragedy and ruin, so far as I can tell.”

  The duchess half-closed her eyes in the way a cat does when it deems itself far too clever to even acknowledge a mere mortal. “Yet they stand poised to take control of the Order, should Henry still be living. He was the worst of the lot of them, the fickle beast. In spite of that, none of the Whitlock affairs seems to have lessened the standing of the family as a whole, unlike your carefully managed arrangements, which landed you with an imbecile.”

  I tried hard not to laugh. I did, truly, but I am a weak soul, and I had to look away to hide my unrepentant mirth. Lady Thornby didn’t seem to notice, as she quickly excused herself without another word, her daughter following at her heel.

  “Dear, dear, I think I may have offended her.” Lady Chadwick tapped her cane on the floor. “I wonder what it was I said.”

  “The truest barbs stick deepest.” I collected myself, though I felt the strain of holding back my smile.

  “Indeed.” She carefully looked me over. “You remind me of Henry. You have his spirit.”

  “Should I take that as an insult, since you claim he was the worst of our lot?” I tilted my head at her in challenge.

  “Yes, well, I suppose he settled down some once married. In his youth, though, he was a man who knew little restraint. Very little. But Henry was that way, always dancing along the edge of scandal and causing controversy within the Order.” She waved her hand in a flippant way as if to say she didn’t wish to discuss it, so I should certainly ask.

  All the noise of conversation filling the glass chamber seemed to quiet to a murmuring hush in my mind.

  If my grandfather had enemies, the man with the mask might be counted among them.

  I wanted to know more, but then, on the other hand, I was too afraid to look behind the smoke and mirrors and expose the illusion of my grandfather as a good and well-respected man. The prospect of hearing about my grandfather’s youthful dalliances seemed distasteful. Frankly, the thought was appalling.

  I swallowed the foul taste in my mouth and continued. “I can’t believe my grandfather would be involved in a scandal. He was always a gentleman and never involved in anything unsavory.”

  The duchess laughed.

  “Oh, my dear child.” She took my arm and waved her cane in front of her skirt. The crowd parted out of self-preservation. “How sweet you are. Perhaps such innocence serves you well. I shouldn’t spoil it.”

  I certainly didn’t want to hear ear-burning details about long-dead affairs, especially ones involving my grandfather. I only wanted to know one thing. “Would any of these scandals have caused someone to stoop to murder?”

  The duchess continued to walk, swinging her cane, clearly enjoying drawing out my suspense. “Well, there was that unmentionable business with the Haddocks, but they were a bit before my time, really.”

  “Clearly a woman as clever as you knows something.” I continued to hold the old woman’s arm gently, even though I wished I were leading her to Scotland Yard to interrogate her properly. Instead she found a bench near the edge of the glass and shooed away the occupants, then perched upon it like a proud old crow.

  In the background I could hear Lucinda’s mother resume her speech about her husband’s great achievements, though her voice now wavered and cracked with uncertainty, after her daughter’s outburst. Those around us turned to listen. The cool glass curved above us, making me feel crowded into an uncomfortable confidence.

  The duchess smiled. “Richard Haddock had been your grandfather’s mentor, treated Henry like the son he never had.”

  “What was so scandalous about that?” I felt something cold drip onto my neck, and I looked up suspiciously at the seam in the glass. I didn’t like to think what would happen should those seams fail.

  “I really can’t mention what nasty business Haddock was up to. In fact, I shouldn’t even be saying his name. He found himself afoul of the rules of the Order. I was never privy to the meetings involving his trial. But I do know that if your grandfather had testified on behalf of Haddock, things might not have ended so badly.” The duchess didn’t look at me. Instead she seemed riveted by the quavering eulogy. “Of course I couldn’t blame Henry. The influence of the Haddock line was waning considerably, and your grandfather had great ambitions. It would have been foolish to tie his fate to that. None of us want the scourge of the Black Mark. Better to be the betrayer than the one who has to endure that fate.”

  Betrayer? My grandfather was as loyal a man as God had ever created. He would never betray anyone. It didn’t make any sense. “What is the Black Mark?” I asked, feeling vaguely ill.

  The duchess polished the brow of the eagle head with her handkerchief. “The family line is quite simply erased, and any fortune that has been made through the Order is returned to the coffers. If the crime is severe enough, your life is forfeit. Your grandfather on the Reichlin side was charged with enforcing the sentence against Haddock. He never believed Henry was innocent of the crimes Haddock died for.”

  My mind went immediately to the blacked-out name in Simon’s journal. The name must have been Haddock.

  “What happened to the rest of the Haddock family?” I asked. Any one of them would have just cause to wish ill upon my family, both the Whitlocks and the Reichlins.

  “They were well in decline before the whole mess. The more superstitious among us would say they were cursed. Haddock’s only true family was his daughter. She was a silly young g
irl, always far away and lost in her own head. About the time Haddock fell afoul of the Order, he shipped her off to live with her spinster aunt on the Continent. I believe he wished to spare her the pain of his trial.”

  “Did she ever marry?” If she had, the Haddock line would have continued through her.

  “No, I don’t believe she ever did.”

  I leaned back, my shoulders hitting the ice-like glass behind me. And that was the last of my only lead to the identity of the man with the clockwork mask. There was only one thing I knew for certain. The man behind the mask was clearly not an old woman.

  “Don’t fret, child. Your grandfather knows how the game is played. Henry Whitlock is one of the most intelligent men the Order has ever seen. He knew exactly what must be done to ensure the Whitlock lineage at that time. Not even your mother’s broken betrothal to the dearly departed Lord Strompton put him off for long.”

  What? I found myself speechless, which was a blessing, since the old duchess continued as if she hadn’t just shattered everything I’d ever thought to be true of my family. “He took advantage of the new ties to the Reichlin clan and still sealed his carefully planned political agreement with the Harringtons. It all tied up very neatly when he arranged for your marriage when you weren’t yet a year old.”

  Shocked, I sat upright. “I beg your pardon?” It came out as a squeak.

  “Didn’t you know, dear? He had an agreement for you to marry Lord Strompton.”

  I had to clutch my stomach as I nearly became violently ill on the floor. “But he was old enough to be my father.” Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the bubble. I felt trapped under the glass.

  The old woman cackled, which made Lady Strompton pause in her speech, and the assembly turned their pale faces to us. “Gracious, not that Lord Strompton,” she said with a labored breath. “That Lord Strompton.”

  And with her pronouncement she pointed the head of her cane directly at David.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN