Magnificent Devices 07 - A Lady of Integrity (11 page)

Watching them float away, Lizzie asked, “Is that where that expression comes from—‘he gives me the willies’?”

Wherever the word came from, Alice had the willies, well and truly, and the prickly feeling on the back of her neck under Colombina’s wig only increased as they presented their invitations, were welcomed into the
palazzo
, and twenty minutes later located Gloria and her chaperone in the ballroom.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Gloria practically fell on Alice’s and Claire’s necks. “Given that Father isn’t your favorite person in the world, I thought you might not come.”

“I’ve got nothing against him now,” Alice said. “He’s paid the debt the government of the Canadas required, and you can’t ask for more than that.”

The words weren’t entirely true, but Alice was glad she’d fibbed when Gloria’s face softened with relief. “You’re so kind.” She turned to Claire and squeezed her hand. “All of you. I’m lucky to have friends like you.” The orchestra struck up a waltz, and she clapped her hands. “Listen! It’s Strauss—my favorite.”

How could such a wicked man have a daughter as guileless as Gloria? Alice wondered. Or was her approach to life the only way she could survive—the equivalent of hiding one’s face behind one’s hands?

“Gloria,” Claire said, “I believe your father is coming this way. Is he dressed as a Roman emperor?”

“I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me. He’s bound to make comments about my coming alone. Oh, if only I had a partner!”

Alice nudged the captain. “Go on. Ask the girl to dance,” she said in a low tone.

“I am not leaving you,” he replied stiffly.

“I’ll be right here with Claire and Andrew. Quick. You’ve got a title and you’re eligible. You could get her pa off her back for weeks with one dance.”

“Great Scott.” The captain implored patience of the frescoes on the ceiling. “Very well. Miss Meriwether-Astor, would you honor me?”

Gloria skipped off with him so fast she might not have been there at all, and by the time her father joined them, she and the captain had whirled halfway around the floor.

“Mr. Meriwether-Astor, what a pleasure to see you again,” Claire said politely, extending her hand.

Alice would rather simply have shot him, but that wouldn’t be polite.

The man peered at Claire from under the leafy excrescence of his laurel crown. “I’m sorry, you have the advantage of me. Did I see you speaking with my daughter?”

“You did. She has procured invitations for us, for which we are most grateful. I was at school with her in London, and met you briefly in the Canadas, in Edmonton at the governor’s ball. I am Lady Claire Trevelyan,” she said rather grandly, and introduced everyone but Alice, who did her best to melt into the crowd behind them, close enough to hear but far enough away to appear not to be with their party.

So this was the man who had nearly gotten her pa strung up like a criminal. Who had backed the French pretender to the throne in hopes of being the power behind it, and financed an invasion that had only failed because of the quick wits and bravery of the sixteen-year-old girl standing not three feet away. This stout, barrel-shaped man with the red face and the iron eyes was forbidden both European and English skies.

So what was he doing here, pretending to care about his daughter’s friends?

“Is that my Gloria there, with that tall harlequin?” he asked as they whirled past.

“She makes a lovely shepherdess, does she not? That tall harlequin is Ian Hollys, baronet,” Claire said with her best society smile. “I believe she may well have made a conquest—her first of the evening.”

“Is that so? About time she was good for something.”

Claire blushed, and even Alice winced at his willingness to shame his daughter behind her back.

“Are you enjoying your time in the Duchy, sir?” Andrew inquired, clearly hoping to deflect the conversation. “Have you been to the Exhibition?”

“I’ve no time for frippery. I’m here on business, and for Gloria, for her sainted mother’s sake. We have not seen one another in some months.”

“I understand you take quite an interest in engineering,” Andrew went on, “and in fact have achieved great recognition in those circles. Are you working on something presently?”

Meriwether-Astor glanced at him distractedly while he attempted to follow Gloria and her partner around the room. Did he think Ian would abandon her and he would need to tackle the baronet before he got clear away?

“I’m interested in underwater transport,” he finally vouchsafed. “Seems like a good place to sell it, don’t you agree? Excuse me, I’ve just seen someone I must say hello to. I’ve been waiting days to get in to see the Minister of Justice, and there he is in the flesh. Nice to have met you all.”

And he hurried off.

As a laurel leaf detached itself from his crown and wafted to the polished floor in the wake of his going, Alice realized he had not been watching his daughter dance, after all. He had been watching for an opportunity to do business.

And now, as they saw him approach a tall, dark-complected man wearing a sword and angel’s wings, thanks to him they now knew who the Minister of Justice was.

11

Lizzie rolled her shoulders in irritation, and the wire hoops of her fairy wings bobbed up and down. “This seemed like such a good idea in the costume shop,” she said to Tigg, “but so far all I’ve done is knock against people and irritate everyone within four feet.”

“You don’t irritate me.” His teeth flashed in the slow, lazy grin she loved. If anyone had been designed to wear the costume of an ancient Egyptian pharaoh, it was Tigg. The pleated linen pants and wide jeweled collar—to say nothing of the dress scimitar and the cobra headdress—could have been designed for him. And if she caught any female sneaking glances at his bare chest, she would whip the gaseous capsaicin out of her pocket so fast …

“I’d say take them off and stash them in a potted palm, but I think they’re the point of your costume.” He took her hand. “Leave off fretting and come dance with me.”

“But the Lady said—”

“I know, and we will. But I must have one dance to remember after all this is over and I’m back aboard ship again.”

He swept her onto the floor, and Lizzie really did feel as if she were flying on her gauzy wings, her gossamer skirts floating out behind in a most satisfying way. Equally satisfying were the envious glances of the little cluster of Wilis, who had come without partners and had nearly reached the point of dancing with each other.

“Captain’s dancing a second with Miss Meriwether-Astor,” Tigg murmured. “Perhaps we ought to take up the watch on Alice?”

“Maggie is with her.” Lizzie’s sharp eyes picked them out of the crowd. “Come, dance me over behind that man with the angel wings. Meriwether-Astor is heading in that direction, and he’s never met me. Remember what the Lady said.”

“If we must, though I’d rather dance properly with you.”

She smiled up at him. “We have the rest of our lives to dance, and only a short time to find out all we can for Jake.”

She felt his hand tighten on her waist as he adjusted their course, and his steps slowed a fraction when they came in sight of Meriwether-Astor and the angel. “It makes me happy to hear you say things like that, Liz,” he murmured against her hair, which had been caught up in ribbons and sprinkled with glitter.

“I’m glad,” she whispered. “I’m not just saying them to be a flirt, you know. I mean them.”

“I’ve never heard you say a thing you didn’t mean.” With another smile, he dropped his voice further. “Quiet, now, and we’ll listen as the Lady bade us.”

Fortunately, the orchestra was playing a slow, dreamy waltz with a pretty melody. If it had been playing a polka, they would never have been able to pull this off. Instead, they took the tiniest steps imaginable and described a lazy circle around the two men, weaving in and out of the other dancers and looking anywhere but at them.

“Minister,” they heard Gerald Meriwether-Astor say with a bow. “You are a very difficult man to get an appointment with. Have you been avoiding me?”

The other man gazed down upon him with what Lizzie could only imagine was dislike. “That would be rude. I am a busy man, as my secretaries have told you repeatedly, Signore Meriwether-Astor. Am I to assume you wish to importune me now, in my own home?”

“I need ten minutes, no more. It will be worth your time—if the Duchy is interested in keeping its clockwork going, that is.”

“The Duchy is the safest kingdom in the Levant. I hardly think—”

“I understand this particular kingdom has … needs that are not currently being met by its supply.”

“I have no time for euphemisms and coy allusions. Speak plainly. My wife, there by the large arrangement of flowers, is beckoning me to dance.”

Tigg executed a turn around a couple costumed as lions (how hot they must be!) and came out on the other side of the Minister. Lizzie had never been so glad that good hearing was another of her gifts. It had saved their skins on more than one occasion, and this might prove to be another.

“As you wish,” Meriwether-Astor said. “You need more convicts to keep the city moving. I have access to practically unlimited numbers of them, and the means by which to transport them here.”

The Minister left off gazing at his wife and focused on the man shifting impatiently from foot to foot in front of him. “Are you referring to … slaves?”

Tigg tripped. Lizzie clutched him until his steps steadied.

Meriwether-Astor stared. “Good heavens. Of course not. That is illegal.”

“Then…?”

“I believe this is best discussed in private, Minister. Do you have an office?”

The minister gazed in despair at his wife, who was very young and had just turned and flounced off into the crowd. “Very well. Come with me.”

The two of them left the ballroom, followed by a pair of men in sober monk costumes who did not look as though they were enjoying themselves in the least.

“Come on, Liz,” Tigg said. “We can’t miss this.”

Hand in hand, they slipped through the crowd and out into a corridor, where they could just see four figures passing through a door on the far end. The house was built in a quadrangle, with three floors to a side and rooms opening off a main gallery whose richly draped windows looked out on the central courtyard.

Lizzie slipped off her wings and stashed them under a huge stone urn with an enormous flower arrangement. If she had to run, they would only slow her down. Then she and Tigg entered the other side of the house, where her quick ears soon picked up the sound of footsteps on stone.

“This way,” she whispered.

A staircase led up into the family’s regions of the house, and another led down to the rooms where business was conducted. Since the ballroom was on the second floor, and it was unlikely the minister would take a guest up to the bedrooms, they had to have descended.

And so it proved to be. A door closed and the two men not in costume took up their stations outside. Tigg pulled Lizzie through another door and into the courtyard they had crossed earlier in the evening. Now servants were hurrying back and forth, and on the far side, a cluster of gondoliers leaned on the walls of an archway leading out to the canal, smoking and gossiping. Beyond them, gondolas bobbed in the current.

“Here,” Lizzie whispered. “It’s this one.”

Quietly, she turned the handle of a French door and, to her gratification, it opened. She only needed a crack.

She leaned against the wall and tugged on Tigg’s collar. “Pretend you are taking a liberty,” she breathed.

“My pleasure.” He leaned into her, and together they listened intently.

“
Bene
, you have ten minutes,” the minister said on the other side of the drapes. “Less, since you have already deprived me of three.”

“My proposal is one of mutual benefit,” Meriwether-Astor said. “I wish to trade in the Levant, from Africa to Byzantium to Rome. You are in need of manpower to keep the city’s gears in motion. If you give me a warrant of trade with a guarantee that my ships will be exempt from transfer tax, I will supply you with convicts.”

After a moment, the minister said, “And where will you obtain them?”

“From the transport ships going to the Antipodes. With my underwater dirigibles, I can strike, disable, and remove all cargo, human and otherwise, from the ships. For reasons peculiar to the English, they do not send their convicts to the colonies in airships. They send them by sea. This turns out to be to our advantage, for no one will be looking for them once they leave the London side, and on the way to the other side of the world, a thousand things could happen to cause a ship to founder. We will allow enough to pass, of course, to avoid suspicion.”

The minister was again silent, while Lizzie fought down the urge to burst through the window, snatch up the first weapon that came to hand, and give Gloria’s father what for. How dared he! These were human beings he was discussing as calmly as though they were a hold full of salted cod!

The minister might have been thinking along the same lines, for he said, “And what of these convicts themselves? I cannot imagine they would stand to be re-routed east and put to work underwater.”

“They are convicts,” Meriwether-Astor said bluntly. “They must serve a sentence for their crimes. I don’t imagine it matters much exactly where.”

Lizzie’s arms went around Tigg, less because she was playing a part than because she needed the comfort. In the old days, she’d known more than one boy transported for thieving a loaf of bread to feed his brothers and sisters. How many alley mice and desert flowers would be aboard those ships, condemned to the underground prison and not allowed even the hope of freedom while they worked off their sentences?

“You are quick to condemn others,” the minister observed. “Have you actually seen our prisons, and the way we administer justice?”

“Not up close,” the other man admitted. “But I’ve heard plenty.”

“Then perhaps before we come to any agreement, you ought to see the reality of what you speak of so cavalierly. Allow me to arrange a tour of the prison. Would tomorrow suit?”