The Golden Spider (The Elemental Web Chronicles Book 1) (33 page)

Read The Golden Spider (The Elemental Web Chronicles Book 1) Online

Authors: Anne Renwick

Tags: #British nobility, #spies, #college university relationships, #biotechnology espionage, #steampunk mystery romance, #19th century historical, #Victorian London

But would this last? Would she tire of a man who avoided society? Spent long hours holed up in a laboratory? Often disappeared for weeks? No. He wouldn’t disappear. Not anymore. Not once his leg failed. That too presented a problem. He was soon to be a broken man.

Reluctantly, he moved away. He shifted to sit at the end of the cot and began to dress, pulling his trousers over the metal cage that guarded his lower leg.

“The pressure points worked well,” she said, moving to sit beside him. “I can‌—‌”

“No. Thank you. It’s fine.” His words were polite, but his tone closed the topic.

She sighed, but tugged on her shirtwaist and began pushing the tiny pearl buttons back into place. “Will you stay?” A slow blush that crept over her cheeks suggested she hoped for a repeat encounter.

He stroked her full lower lip with his thumb. “I think it’s best if I don’t, Amanda. Not tonight.” They’d risked enough already, lying about in such a disheveled state. Questions might be asked, ones that would damage her reputation, perhaps even her career. “If you give me the vial of distilled essence, I can have it in the hands of the Lister chemists tonight. You’ve done amazing work here,” he indicated her laboratory, “but with their equipment and knowledge, the drug will be‌—‌”

“Of higher quality,” she nodded. “I know I’m not a chemist. No need to soothe my wounded, scientific soul.”

“It will be better protected,” he said. “And you will be safer with it removed from your keeping. If I work quickly tonight, there will be time to run the procedure tomorrow on a rat‌—‌at least once‌—‌in the laboratory, before we try it on your brother.”

She nodded, her eyes not meeting his.

He tipped her chin upward. “Know that I already want you again, Amanda.”

Now she looked deep into his eyes. “Then stay.”

“If only I could,” he said, then pressed his lips against hers, pouring his heart into the kiss, showing her what he could not say.

Chapter Thirty-One

A
MANDA WAS ON HER
way to breakfast when her sister screamed.

A cacophony of blinking and hissing and whirring emerged from the breakfast room. She arrived at the door to find Steam Mary spinning in distressed circles and RT rolling back and forth across the floor, the teacups on his surface rattling and splashing. Burton stood, his jaw opening and closing without emitting any sound.

Mother had collapsed forward onto the dining table, her face buried in her arms. Before the table Olivia stood, or rather, swayed as she flapped a feathered fan at her face, her lungs struggling to cope beneath her too-tight corset; she wasn’t far behind Mother.

“Sit, Olivia. Before you fall,” she commanded.

Olivia’s knees buckled, and she collapsed into her chair.

“Whatever is the matter?”

“It’s over…‌ everything’s ruined…‌” The fan flapped faster.

“What?” she demanded.

“Emily.” A trembling finger pointed at a gossip rag that had fallen to the floor.

Burton lifted it and handed it to Amanda.

She read.

‘Lady E‌—‌, daughter of the great and powerful Duke of A‌—‌, was sighted last night in the company of those gypsies currently camping in Kensington Gardens. The colorful garb she wore, and her suspiciously rounded form, suggests she now lives among them as one of their own.’

The rag still in hand, Amanda sank into a chair beside her sister, wondering what‌—‌if anything‌—‌she ought do. The damage was done. Amanda lifted a half-empty teacup from RT’s surface. She pressed the porcelain cup into her sister’s trembling hand. “Drink some tea,” she said, hoping the motion would slow Olivia’s breaths.

A knock at the front door had Burton hurrying from the room. A caller at this hour could mean only one thing. Olivia turned toward Amanda, eyes wide with fear and apprehension.

“I will see the duke,” a voice boomed. “Now.”

Carlton.

Olivia dropped her teacup in her lap. Angry footsteps moved down the hall. Tears began to stream down Olivia’s face.

As Steam Mary rushed to blot Olivia’s skirts, Amanda took her sister’s hand and squeezed. There were no words of comfort to offer her sister. She might not be sorry to see the last of Carlton, but all of Olivia’s hopes and dreams, her efforts at securing a titled husband and her own household, had shattered.

Damp lashes and watery eyes looked back at Amanda. “It’s over. No one will have me now. We’re to end our lives in this house as two dried out old spinsters. Together.”

A decided possibility
. Though she didn’t give it voice. She turned to the collection of steambots that had gathered in the doorway. Somehow their copper and bronze faces managed to convey worry. “Both women have had a shock and will be happier resting in their chambers.” Metal necks creaked as heads nodded. “Steam Susan, please bring the bath chair for the duchess. Steam Joseph, if you would escort Lady Olivia to her room. Please see that their personal lady’s maids are summoned.”

Once her mother and her sister were taken care of, Amanda penned a quick note to Ned, who, she was informed, had left earlier for the Symphony House. She informed him the family was in crisis and suggested he return home at once. He could shoulder some of the burden while she labored in the laboratory on his behalf.

~~~

A knock sounded on Thornton’s office door. “Enter!” he called, relieved that someone had arrived to rescue him from the tedium of neglected paperwork.

The necessary task was taking longer than normal as his mental efforts were hindered by the constant intrusion of thoughts of Amanda. Thoughts of her soft curves, of driving into her wet heat, of the look on her face as she shattered above him. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. Last night, something inside him had broken free. A taste of her passion was no longer enough. He wanted more. Concentration was next to impossible.

The white-bearded face of Lord Thistleton appeared. “Good news, Thornton.”

“That will make for a nice change. Come in.”

The man laughed. “I sent a man to the powerhouse to collect the plant, roots and all.
Amatiflora
now grows in my greenhouse under lock and key. I’ve never seen its like, though I believe it a close relative of ‌—‌” he waved a hand, “never mind. In a few weeks, I should be able to force a bloom.”

“Excellent,” Thornton said, trying to muster some enthusiasm. By then it would be too late for him. “And its essence?”

Lord Thistleton grinned. “More good news. The nerve agent was easily concocted in our laboratories. Your assistant, Lady Huntley was so kind as to assist. She brought us a rat.” Lord Thistleton laughed. “The looks on the faces of my assistants. None of them are used to test subjects with faces and tails. In any case, she helped us with a trial run of your drug. The formula is impressive, quite effective. It does not suppress nerve transmission completely. It only calms the nerve. Lady Huntley assures me that this is exactly the outcome you hoped for?”

“It is.” The neurachnid needed to test its connections as it wove its golden strands.

“Well, then, I’ll be going. I’ll send updates on the plant’s status.”

“Wait,” Thornton said. “The drug?”

“I left the entire vial,” Lord Thistleton grinned widely, “safe in your assistant’s hands.” The man nodded and left.

Good. Finally they made progress.

Black appeared in the doorway. “We have a problem.”

A problem. He supposed good news was too much to hope for with a murderous spy on the loose. “What now?” he asked.

“Nasty rumors about Amanda’s sister have begun to circulate.”

Thornton swore.

“Exactly. It seems a party of gentlewomen, seeking to have their fortunes read, invaded the gypsy campsite in Kensington Gardens. One of the women recognized Lady Emily. Additional precautions are being taken.” Black glanced over his shoulder. “Her sister, Lady Amanda, is, at this very moment, striding down the hallway with a decidedly fierce look upon her face.”

Thornton stood. “If you’ll wait for us in the laboratory?”

Black nodded, then ducked out.

Moments later, Amanda stepped into his office, her eyes dark with concern. She closed the door behind her with a shaking hand. “You’ve heard about my sister?”

“Black knows. He’ll keep her safe.”

“Nothing can undo the damage to my family’s reputation. My mother and Olivia are beside themselves.”

“Perhaps I should care more what society thinks.” He moved to stand before her, raising a hand to stroke a finger alongside her jaw. “Yet I find I only care what
you
think.”

“Think?” She stepped closer, and slid her arms about his waist. “Must we?” Her face lifted upward, her lips parting in invitation, offering sweet oblivion.

Attraction sparked to life, and he lowered his head, giving her what she asked for‌—‌an all-consuming kiss. Their tongues tangled in a maddening dance as he dragged her against him. Her hands ran up his back, holding him tight, crushing her soft breasts against his chest. Desire flared. He groaned into her mouth. Now. Here. No need to wait until the evening. The chair would do.

“Echem.”

A loud noise intruded. Thornton pulled away, fighting the urge to growl his irritation like a feral beast. Amanda backed away from him quickly, her face aflame.

Black stood in the doorway, his head tipped backward as he stared discreetly at the ceiling. “Next time, lock the door. Please.”

“What?”

“We may have a problem in the laboratory. Two of them.”

“Stop being coy and spit it out,” Thornton growled.

“You indicated both Lady Huntley and Henri were here?”

“Yes.” He glanced at the clock. “They should both be at work.”

Black shook his head. “They’re not. Your technician, Samuel, indicated that they’d left in some haste. Together.” He held out a slip of paper. “Henri left you this note.”

Thornton snatched it from his hand, reading quickly. “It seems Henri’s mother has taken a decided turn for the worse. This is notification that he is taking an indefinite leave of absence.” He looked up. “A note. Why would he leave a note?” He shook his head. “Something is not right. Henri would speak to me first.”

“Lady Huntley?” Amanda asked. “Why would she go with him?”

“No idea.” He grabbed his cane and moved with as much speed as he could manage. Something nagged at the back of his mind as if he was missing some key piece of information. “I need to see the laboratory.”

They arrived en masse and stood, turning slowly. Nothing seemed amiss. In the corner, the latest acoustico patient recovered. By his side was Samuel, the day technician who had reported the odd behaviors of his fellow technicians.

Amanda moved to the laboratory safe where her neurachnid was stored. Her fingers deftly spun the combination. The door swung open. “It’s still here.” Relief colored her voice. She lifted it from the safe and wrapped the neurachnid in a clean linen cloth before pushing it inside her reticule. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to keep it close. The laboratory no longer seemed a secure location.

A frisson of unease ran down his spine. “Lady Huntley assisted Lord Thistleton this morning. They trialed the nerve agent. He left the drug in her care. Where is the vial?”

Amanda’s face paled. “It would be a dark amber vial‌—‌or perhaps an opaque green‌—‌to protect the drug from light.”

They turned about, searched shelves and cabinets, searched every likely storage. Nothing.

Dread balled in his stomach. “Samuel!” he bellowed. “Did either Henri or Lady Huntley take anything with them from the laboratory?” he asked when the technician stood before him, eyes wary.

Samuel shook his head. “Not that I noticed.” But pockets could be deep. “Neither of them appeared pleased to be leaving,” he continued, looking hurt. “I thought it odd that they left without so much as a word. Usually, I warrant at least a wave.”

Black swore.

“One of them is a double agent,” Thornton stated baldly.

“Henri?” Amanda asked in horror.

“Likely,” Black answered. “And Lady Huntley his hostage.”

“Why not take the neurachnid?” she asked. Then answered her own question. “He had my plans before him all along.”

Thornton nodded. “Henri will have built his own spider, incorporating all our improvements. He had the knowledge and the tools and access to all the necessary pieces. He needed only the nerve agent.”

“But…‌ how?”

“An excellent question.” He narrowed his eyes at Black. “How did Henri pass your background check? You assured me of his trustworthiness.”

“Do not accuse me,” Black shot back. “I stand by my work. You were the one who insisted on bringing a foreign national into this laboratory. Medicine knows no borders, you insisted. I did check. Deeply. Not one single red flag. The man was in deep.” Black stomped across the room. “Let’s go.”

Thornton began to limp behind Black, leaning heavily on the cane. Pain shot upward through his leg with every step. Amanda followed. “No,” Thornton said. “Stay here.”

“Not likely,” she snapped back. “You dragged me into this. I’ll see it finished. Besides, with two top agents beside me, I am doubly safe.”

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