Necropolis (Royal Sorceress Book 3) (21 page)

She shook her head, running her hand through her blonde curls. Raechel had asked, partly in jest, why she didn’t grow her hair out and
really
shock the stodgy old men who hated the thought of taking orders from a slip of a girl. Gwen had pointed out that it was hard to pass as a man with long hair – fashion these days insisted that men couldn’t grow their hair out past their neck – and besides, long hair would simply get in the way. It was also a poke in her mother’s eye, although she hadn’t told Raechel
that
; Lady Mary had enjoyed combing Gwen’s long hair, back before she’d gone to Cavendish Hall. Gwen had always hated being treated as a
girl
.

“You should be safe until you start poking around,” Sir Sidney said, his words breaking into her thoughts. Gwen hastily replayed the conversation in her mind, then nodded. “But be careful with her, all right? If I have to take over, my first step will be to tie her up in the embassy.”

“If you have to take over,” Gwen said, “you’ll have other things to worry about, I think.”

Sir Sidney nodded, then looked concerned as she yawned. “Go get some sleep,” he ordered. “And make sure you keep a sharp eye on her.”

Gwen nodded, yawned again and slipped out of his cabin. At night, the interior of the airship seemed to belong to another world. Only a handful of dim lights provided illumination as she made her way back to the cabin she shared with Janet and Romulus, making it difficult for her to pick out her surroundings as she walked. It was easy to see, she decided, why so few passengers stayed in the smoking or drawing rooms after the lights were dimmed. The environment was surprisingly creepy.

She slipped into the cabin, then blinked in surprise as she saw Romulus sitting on his bunk, reading a book. It didn’t surprise her that he could read – he was a butler, not a common footman – but what did surprise her was that he was reading Janet a bedtime story. Janet had never grown used to the airship, any more than Lady Standish had, and had tried to spend as much time as possible in bed. Gwen had found herself doing much of Janet’s work as well as her own.

“You should have been here earlier,” Romulus said, as Gwen closed the door behind her. She couldn’t help feeling more than a little trapped, even though she had no sense of danger from either of them. The compartment was just too small for three people, one of them a grown man. “Where were you?”

“I was just taking a break in the drawing room,” Gwen said. “It looks so dark underneath us.”

“It would,” Romulus said. “The German states are nowhere near as developed as England.”

Gwen nodded as she removed her maid’s cap, allowing her hair to spring free. The German states had been battlegrounds since time out of mind, their rulers jumping from side to side and religion to religion as it suited them, while their people bore the brunt of their decisions. It was no surprise to
her
, at least, that Germans made up one of the largest groups emigrating to the American Colonies ... and were the most enthusiastic supporters of King George. He was actually their protector, while the German Princes were more interested in their own power than their population. And the French and Russians wouldn’t hesitate to turn the German states into another battleground if they went to war.

England looked surprisingly bright at night, she knew from experience. There were gas and electric lights everywhere, particularly in the centre of London. But the German states had no such developments. Even Paris, she’d been told, was dimmer than London. Looking down at the Germans from high overhead made her feel as if she was staring into another world.

“I’ll go for a brisk walk,” Romulus said. “But I suggest you hurry.”

Gwen nodded, waited for him to leave the compartment and then undid her dress, allowing it to fall to the deck. One definite advantage of the maid’s outfit was that it could be removed quickly, if necessary. Gwen still flushed at the memory of her mother advising her not to eat or drink anything before dressing and going to a ball. She honestly didn’t understand why her mother and the other Grande Dames of High Society put up with the dresses. It wasn’t as if they
liked
being uncomfortable.

“Pretty,” Janet said, weakly. “But you should grow out your hair.”

“Maybe,” Gwen said, as she reached for her nightgown. It was actually more modest and uncomfortable than anything she’d worn as a young aristocrat, but it would have to suffice. “I notice he was reading to you.”

“I can’t read,” Janet confessed, sadly. “Can you?”

Gwen nodded. It wasn’t uncommon for servants to sit with their young charges at lessons – Jo had done just that with Susan – but few of them received any formal education. Janet would never have a chance to learn, now that Raechel was too old for lessons ... and Lord and Lady Standish were unlikely to produce children. Gwen was mildly surprised they
hadn’t
produced children or separated. Didn’t Lord Standish know he had to produce a heir?

She changed the subject before Janet could ask more incisive questions. “Do you think he’s sweet on you?”

Janet blushed, so deeply that Gwen knew she was sweet on
him
. And well she might be, Gwen knew; Romulus might have been black, but he was clearly a decent person. Besides, Janet didn’t have to account for herself to the Grande Dames. No one would really care if she married a black man. There were quite a few interracial marriages down in the Docklands, where Indians and Chinese mingled with Scots and Irish. And, if Sir Charles had been right, there were other such marriages in India.

She climbed into her bunk as Romulus returned wearing a nightshirt that looked to have seen better days. Janet winked at her, then closed her eyes and went to sleep. Romulus doused the lights, then climbed into his own bunk. Gwen allowed herself a tight smile, then closed her eyes. Morning would come all too soon.

The next thing she knew, Romulus was gently shaking her bunk. Gwen sat upright, almost banging her head against the upper bunk, then looked at the butler. The lights were back up to full brightness; Gwen scrambled for her pocket watch – a gift from Heather, officially – and glanced at the time. It was nearly seven o’clock in the morning and she felt as though she hadn’t slept at all.

“They could sleep in,” she muttered, as she pulled herself out of bed. “Where would they go?”

Romulus snorted, then headed for the hatch. “They need to stay in practice,” he reminded her. “His Lordship cannot expect to sleep in till noon when important negotiations are underway.”

Gwen nodded, then dressed rapidly as soon as he left the compartment. Janet still looked miserable in her bunk, so Gwen left her there and hurried along to the kitchen compartment, where the staff were already preparing great bowls of fish and eggs, along with sliced and buttered bread. It smelt faintly funny to Gwen – apparently, cooking at attitude did odd things to the food – but she didn’t mind. Taking one of the trays of food, she carried it through the airship to the dining room, where Lord Standish, Sir Sidney and two of the other diplomats were already sitting. Romulus stood behind Lord Standish, fussing over his necktie.

“Put it on the table,” Lord Standish ordered. He was reading a copy of
The Times
, but Gwen couldn’t help noticing that it was outdated by several days. He’d probably already read it several times over. “And then wake my niece. Inform her I wish to speak with her.”

Gwen placed the tray on the table, curtseyed and hurried along to Raechel’s cabin, wondering just what Lord Standish wished to say to his niece. Inside, Raechel was sleeping in her bed, wearing nothing apart from a set of thin underclothes. Gwen sighed, cleared her throat loudly, then watched as Raechel stirred without waking. She’d probably gone to sleep very late the previous evening, even though she’d had little to do. Gwen couldn’t help wondering if the Captain had sneaked into her cabin for a midnight visit.

Maybe I should start sleeping outside her cabin
, she thought, then cleared her throat for the second time. “My Lady,” she said, “wake up!”

Raechel jumped and sat up, looking around wildly. Gwen sighed, then reached for the bottle of water by the bedside and passed it to Raechel, who took it and sipped carefully. There were few glasses of any description on the airship and none at all in the bedrooms, just to prevent spills. Gwen rather approved. She would have had to clean up any mess caused by the occupants.

“It’s far too early to get up,” Raechel protested, when she looked at the clock on the bulkhead. She’d never been in the habit of rising early, even before they’d boarded the airship. “I want to go back to sleep.”

“Your Uncle demands your presence,” Gwen said. “And he sent me to get you.”

Raechel shrugged, lay back on the bed and pulled the covers over her head. Gwen felt her temper snap; she reached out with her magic, pulled the covers away and then picked Raechel up and dropped her, none too gently, on the deck. Raechel yelped as her bottom hit the cold metal, then glowered at Gwen, shocked awake.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she muttered, as she pulled herself back to her feet, one hand rubbing her behind. She didn’t seem intimidated, merely annoyed. “I need my sleep.”

“That’s why you go to bed at a civilised hour,” Gwen countered. She strode over to the wardrobe, pulled out a basic dress and hovered it over to Raechel. “You can wear this, for the moment, and we will get you something else to wear after you’ve spoken to your Uncle.”

Raechel sighed, then pulled the dress over her head and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked pretty, Gwen decided, although it was clear that Raechel didn’t agree. The wild untamed look was hardly fashionable these days; Raechel was just lucky enough to look beautiful without spending any effort on her appearance at all. But as she grew older and her looks began to fade, she’d need something else to keep her going. Would she ever find someone she could marry as an equal?

“Fine,” Raechel groused, after Gwen had cleared her throat twice. She stood, running her hands down the dress to try to force it to show her curves. Thankfully, it refused to cling to her body. “I should just walk in naked. Give some of those old fogies heart attacks.”

“They say Tyburn is nice this time of year,” Gwen said, dryly. Criminals were still hanged in Tyburn, sometimes without a trial first. Even Oliver Cromwell’s body had been exhumed and hung after the Restoration, even though it seemed a pointless exercise in spite. She couldn’t recall if any women had been hanged there, but it was quite possible. “And I don’t think your Uncle would be amused.”

“You’d better come with me,” Raechel said. She headed towards the hatch, running her hands through her hair to push it into some semblance of order. “I can hide behind you if he’s really angry at me.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

Chapter Eighteen

T
he weather over St Petersburg was surprisingly clear, according to the Captain, as the airship slowly made its way over the Baltic Sea and started its descent towards the Russian capital. Gwen was relieved, as were most of the passengers; the airship had shaken so violently when they’d passed near a storm that one of the passengers had actually tried to open the door that would have sent him plummeting towards the ground from miles up in the sky and thus ensured his death.

She glanced at Raechel, then back out the window as St Petersburg came into view. Lord Standish had dismissed Gwen as soon as breakfast had finished, then taken his niece into a private cabin for a long chat. Whatever Lord Standish had said to her had been surprisingly effective, Gwen considered; Raechel had been oddly subdued all day. She hadn’t even pestered Gwen for more stories about her life as the Royal Sorceress.

“It looks just like London,” Raechel said, finally. She sounded oddly disappointed. “I was expecting something more.”

Gwen shrugged. “Wait till you see it from the ground,” she said. “You might see far more differences up close.”

She watched as the airship descended slowly towards a vast airstrip outside the city. The Russians hadn’t been enthusiastic about airships when they’d been invented, forcing them to catch up with both the British and French, but it was clear that they were pushing the limits as fast as possible. There were two giant airships, one larger than the largest airship in British service, and a handful of smaller airships that seemed to be more engine than gasbag. Gwen had been told that it might be possible to actually build a flying machine that
didn’t
rely on hydrogen to provide lift, but she had her doubts. Unless magic was involved, somewhere ...

“That’s a lot of guns,” Raechel observed. “Are they planning a war?”

Gwen followed her gaze. The riverside was lined with guns, some built in solid emplacements, others positioned out in the open, as if they expected to be attacked at any second. Perhaps they
did
expect an attack, she thought. The Royal Navy liked the idea of sinking its enemy’s fleet in the first battle, even if it meant charging right into the teeth of enemy fire. As far as Gwen knew, Lord Nelson had no plans to start the war by attacking Russia, but it was quite possible ... at least as long as the river was navigable. Large chunks of ice drifting out to sea suggested that forcing passage up towards the city would be hazardous as hell.

“It looks that way,” she said. The river passed behind them as the airship sank lower, slowly making its way towards the docking mast ahead of them. There was a long whining sound from the engines, then the airship shook violently again as the ground rose up towards her eyes. “I think they fear the worst.”

A dull thump ran through the airship, followed by a series of clunks as the ground crew attached anchors to her gondola. Gwen straightened up as she saw a line of armed soldiers running past the window, clearly readying themselves to attend upon Lord Standish and his diplomatic mission. Raechel gave her a sharp look, then followed Gwen as she walked back to Raechel’s cabin and checked to make sure that everything was packed. The bags would be picked up by the Russians and transported to the embassy, no doubt after being thoroughly searched. She hadn’t mentioned that to Raechel. It would only have upset her.