White Lady

by Nix Whittaker

  The White Lady

  Wyvern Mysteries Two

  Nix Whittaker

  https://reshwity.wixsite.com/publishing

  © 2019 by Nicola Pike

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical facts, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

  ISBN: Softcover,

  ISBN: Ebook,

  Books by Nix Whittaker

  Glyph Warriors

  Hero is a man

  You can run

  Sorrow also sings

  Blind leading

  Wyvern Chronicles

  Blazing Blunderbuss

  The Mechanicals

  Wyvern’s Trim and other stories

  The Jade Dragon

  Ruby Beyond Compare

  Wyvern Mysteries

  Lady Golden Hand

  Model Humans

  Model: Serenity

  Model: Scribe

  Model: Rustic

  Kitsune Shapeshifter Series

  Zero Foxes Given

  Chapter One

  The fingers of Rayne’s mechanical hand entwined with Victor’s. There were more people than usual on the unpaved streets of Londinium as they were later than usual. Rayne was finding it harder to get moving in the morning.

  Victor must have sensed she was feeling better as he spoke into their so far silent walk to work, “Why don’t you move in? You spend most of your time at my house, anyway. It isn’t like you have to worry about your reputation.”

  Last month her godfather and leader of the Metropolitan police had let slip that the brands running along her mechanical arm and over most of her body, a brand mirrored on Victor, meant she was married to him. Binding them together with some kind of dragon science that she didn’t bother to understand. So far the interest had been entirely around the dragon’s job as the scientist for the Scotland Yard rather than her relationship with him.

  It had been selfish of her to enjoy spending time with Victor with no fear of her reputation but at the same time not having the pressure from others to stop work and produce children.

  Her hand tightened around Victor’s. Careful that she didn’t press too hard as her mechanical hand didn’t have complete feedback it usually had. She blamed stress for it playing up. With her brother back in town and now schooled in how to care for the limb it would be easier for her to get it adjusted.

  She mulled over his suggestion that she move in with him. “I should.”

  His steps faltered and forced her to come to a stop or have her arm tugged out of his grasp. “You want to move in?” His voice turning high pitched in his excitement.

  She felt bad that she had made him wait so long for her to make a full commitment. “I always wanted to. But I was scared that if I did, you would make me stop working.”

  He snorted at the concept. She knew him enough now to know that he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to do. It had taken a long time for her to trust him with her whole life and not just her body. Society was littered with examples of where women were reduced to mere decorations. That life would slowly kill her.

  Victor tugged her closer and placed his other hand on her waist. “Would I be pushing you if I asked for a date?” She leant forward and kissed his cheek. Blushing with embarrassment that she showed him affection in public, she turned and started for work again. Victor grinned and skipped to keep up with her.

  “I’ll think about it.” She would have to find the time first. Fields had kept her busy at work by giving her new case right after they solved a case. She hadn’t decided if that meant he had accepted her or if he was trying to get her to quit. When she had first started work at the Yard, Fields had been very standoffish. It was only when he discovered she was a decent shot that he had thawed towards her. But it didn’t mean he truly accepted her at work.

  Victor dropped her hand at the door to open it for her. He gave a flourish to guide her in and she grinned at him as she passed him into Scotland Yard. One benefit of the cat being let out of the bag about her relationship with Victor was his now blatant show of affection for her.

  A whistle had her steps stuttering. She refused to look around to who would be so rude but she felt the heat warm her cheeks. Larkin waiting by the stairs frowned so he must have seen who had whistled.

  She assured him, “It is nothing.”

  “It isn’t nothing.” He didn’t elaborate, so she assumed it had something to do with the recent rumours. They neither made sense nor had any logic to them. Some assumed that her marriage to Victor was the only reason they still allowed her to work in the male-dominated workplace. While others spoke of her as if she were some floosy who would canoodle with anyone at the police station. She shook her head. This wasn’t the only issue that had arisen because of the rumours. Maybe she should wait for the rumours to settle before she moved into Victor’s house. She didn’t want to add anything to the mill.

  She glanced back at Victor. He grinned at her and she knew she couldn’t put it off much longer as it would hurt him and that was the last thing she wanted. Stuff their sensibilities and she would just live with the fallout.

  When Victor went off to his lab, she headed for her office. It was small and set aside from all the others. She had assumed when her godfather had given her the room that he was separating her from the others. Then she had seen it as a signal she wasn’t good enough. Since the rumours and the leers, she decided her godfather had done it for her safety.

  Larkin was certainly for her safety. The week they had assigned him to her, two bobbies had been attacked and murdered on the streets of Londinium. She counted him as her best friend as they had worked together as a team for years. Whatever issues he had with working with a woman he had shelved.

  Larkin poured himself a cup of tea from the tea trolley. Rayne rarely saw the maid who brought the constant supply of hot water but she appreciated it. Larkin offered her a cup and she thanked him before she went to her desk. There were already files on her desk. Fields certainly wanted to keep her busy or maybe he just wanted to get her out of the office. She knew she disrupted the others, not that she cared that they couldn’t remain professional but she recognised that Fields’ way of dealing with it was to give her work instead of sending her home.

  ___

  The bell tinkling above the door made Everett raise his head sharply. Whacking his head on the counter he was under as he was searching for an errant bolt. Rubbing the back of his head he angled out of the space to see who had entered his store.

  A ghost in an emerald pinstriped skirt and cream blouse stood in the light from the store windows. He recoiled, knocking a half-constructed hand off the table behind him. The ghost leaned on a single brass and mahogany crutch tucked under her arm. Skin as pale as a frosty field, her wavy hair reigned free in the same absence of colour as her skin. A pair of green-tinted glasses hid her eyes.

  She tilted her head to one side at his reaction. “Are you Ancaster?” Her plain tone lacked the ethereal nature of a ghost which left Everett with only one explanation for her appearance.

  Albino.

  He’d only heard of albino’s. Mostly from his younger sister who was training to be a doctor. The only other mention he’d seen of albinos was for fairs.

  “Sorry Miss, you surprised me.” He dusted off his shirt, hoping nothing from under the counter still clung to him. He offered his hand. “I’m Ancaster.” She took his hand. Even the briefest of touches had palpitations interrupting his heart. Flustered, Everett asked, “Are you here for a prosthet
ic?” Laughing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Of course, you are here for a prosthetic.” Everett waved a hand to a stool tucked under the table. He dragged it out and dusted it off with his hand.

  She raised an eyebrow high enough that it peeked over the top of the tinted glasses. As she drew closer, he took in her ageless beauty though he judged her to be younger than himself. She tucked her crutch against the counter and lifted herself onto the stool. He pulled another stool from under the counter and positioned himself across from her.

  With slate and chalk in hand, he asked, “What are you looking for? Limb-wise I mean.”

  She smoothed her hands over her skirt. “Aren’t you going to ask whether I can afford it?”

  He flapped the hand with the chalk to dismiss the issue of payment. As the son of a Duke, he didn’t have to worry about his store closing if he gave away a limb or two. “We can figure out cost once you’ve told me what you need.” Nibbling on her lip in hesitation, she revealed the wound by gathering up handfuls of material and lifting the hem of her skirt to uncover her amputated foot.

  Everett speculated the reason for the injury. “Not frostbite. Not unless you enjoy climbing mountains.” He flashed her a grin, hoping she would welcome the humour. The glasses hid the intense gaze she levelled at him but he felt it all the same. “Sorry, I’m a bit rusty at this.”

  “At what, Mister Ancaster?” Amusement laced her words.

  “Flirting.” He blushed. The generous storefront windows suffused the room in light. Drawing sheer edges along her face, highlighting her sharp cheekbones.

  Changing the subject, he asked, “Can I touch your leg?”

  She tipped her head slightly to show her acquiescence. He kept his hands clinical as he studied the wound since she had not indicated she would appreciate a more intimate touch. The deformed stump was flattened at the end so she could still use it. The healed skin showed the wound had happened sometime before.

  “They knew what they were doing when they took this off.”

  She disagreed. “They used an axe.”

  Horrified his hands stilled on her leg. He imagined a chef separating a chicken with neat and precise movements. Shaking loose of his thoughts he checked her calf further up. Well-formed muscles indicated she was using the limb regularly. Atrophy would have made her adjustment to an artificial limb a toilsome journey.

  He propped her calf on his knee and gathered up his measuring tape, taking notes as he worked.

  Her voice interrupted his process. “Do you flirt with all your clients, Mister Ancaster?”

  “Hardly. Most of the people who come through here are veterans. Grizzled is a compliment.” His forearm brushed accidentally against her leg as he retrieved a jar of clay mixture to make a cast of her limb. The touch had heat warming the back of his neck.

  “You still haven’t asked if I can afford this?” her wistful tone gave away her wish for the limb. He studied her; he hadn’t lost a limb but his sister had and he knew the things that were easy when whole became impossible when something was missing.

  “I’d rather know what your name is.” The silence had Everett lifting his head from his notes. She removed her glasses to reveal the stormy sea of her eyes.

  “Medea.” Her voice traced over his skin, sending his hairs to stand up. The intimacy of her name without accoutrements excited him. He gave her a smile and said, “I’m Everett.”

  He turned his attention back to why she was here. A new foot. After applying a judicious amount of lard, he set the clay over the limb; making her shiver. He muttered an apology. Wet and clammy, he doubted the clay felt very pleasant against her skin. He worked the clay so it would press up close to her stump. Wrapping the two-part frame around it with the care of delivering a new baby. Easing it off so the clay kept its shape he set it aside on the table and made sure it was far enough from the edge that he wouldn’t have to worry about knocking it off the edge.

  A horse with bells, on the street, drew their attention to the storefront. Both tilted their heads to watch it pass. Everett ignored it and picked up his grease pencil. Medea’s reaction to the everyday occurrence had her scuttling for her crutch. Once on her foot, she gave a hurried apology before she dashed for the door.

  The words he needed to make her stay wrestled on his throat and never reached his tongue. By the time he figured out what to say she was gone. A memory as ephemeral as the ghost he had first mistaken her for.

  Chapter Two

  Everett plastered himself to the wall to avoid being bowled over by his sister as she stormed out of the lab in Scotland Yard. She didn’t even glance his way as she used her mechanical arm to slam him into the wall. He raised his eyebrows as he watched her storm off towards her office.

  He turned back to where she had come from and decided he would investigate that way first before trying to confront Rayne. Inside the lab he found Victor, the dragon, cleaning up some broken glass. He didn’t look like a dragon with his head down and in his human form. His clothes were similar to what Everett was wearing and about a season out of date. The tails of his coat curled on the floor as Victor crouched. It was when he looked up that his identity was revealed. His gold eyes glittered with his alienness. Dragons could change into their feral form which would make Sir George envious for a good tussle.

  Everett indicated the doorway where his sister had gone and asked, “Why is my sister going ballistic?”

  Victor returned to his task as he answered, “She’s pregnant and everyone at work is acting strange.”

  Everett leaned heavily on the doorframe as his legs went weak. His sister had written that she was technically married but still living at home. He hadn’t realised things had gotten serious between the dragon and her that a baby was now on the cards. Also, it didn’t help that he still saw her as his annoying big sister rather than a possible mother.

  He recovered and rubbed a hand over his face. It seemed it was inevitable for everyone to grow up he would have to change his perception of his sisters. But he put that aside to analyse later. “I thought women are happy to be pregnant.” He had thought Rayne would be pleased to have a baby. They had often spoken about families and what it would be like. They had both insisted they wouldn’t be as manipulative as their mother.

  Victor finished cleaning by dumping the contents of the tray into a bin sitting at the end of the table. “You have obviously not met your sister. Apparently, babies mean the total destruction to her career and her dreams and everything that makes her, her all because of some parasite growing inside of her.”

  Everett winced as he could almost hear Rayne throwing those accusations around. Rayne was not shy about sharing her opinion but it didn’t mean Victor had to suffer because others had wrong ideas.

  “She’ll come around,” Everett said with more hope than he felt. But then his sister was pragmatic. After losing her hand as a child, instead of wallowing in her loss, she had used her tragedy to forge her own path. He knew she would have hated marrying some vapid lord and being nothing but a flower to decorate his home.

  She would eventually come around to being a mother. She was already pregnant and there was little she could do about that so she would find some way to be alright with it. Though he wondered if it had more to do with what people thought of her relationship with the dragon than with the actual pregnancy that worried her.

  His sister could also be very irrational when it came to what others said. She had often been called Lady Golden Hand by her peers. She hated it as she had always heard the derision in the moniker and she still bristled over the name. Everett was never sure why she cared so much what the ton thought of her.

  Victor raised an eyebrow. “She must as the baby will be here in a couple of months.”

  Everett asked, “I thought dragons can control when they have children.”

  Victor leaned against one of the tables. His shoulders drooped. “Yeah, and we discussed children. She wants them, the issue is with work. Last week one of the pe
elers on the floor mentioned that the only reason they favoured her was because she did favours for the men.”

  Everett winced and rubbed the back of his neck. He knew his sister would not have been amused by that. Her godfather, Charles, had been the one to get her the job but he hadn’t given her any favours after that. That was if you didn’t count Larkin who Charles had set as her bodyguard and partner. Any accolades Rayne earned was with diligence and hard work. Anyone who knew her at all knew she didn’t need or want any favours from others. It wouldn’t be the first time she had to weather the rumour mill.

  To distract himself from the fact he was soon to be an uncle he wandered down the aisle made by the tables. They had set the lab up to deal with different aspects of science and anything that might be needed. Chemicals in jars lined shelves along the wall. Weird contraptions that supported glass tubes in claws sat on the benches. He stopped at some jars that held some gruesome artefacts pickled and staring back at him. He couldn’t imagine why the dragon would need them.

  Everett turned and asked, “So what are you going to do about my sister?”

  Victor didn’t hesitate before he answered, “Help her move into my place.” A grin split the dragons face and teeth flashed. That was probably a good idea. Lady Ancaster’s manipulations often stifled Rayne. She should have moved out when she first decided to stay married to Victor. Everett had the whole story from Katherine when he had returned home. Rayne had definitely left some things out of her letters.

  Rayne had married Victor to access his abilities to heal when they were confronted by a murderous Peeler set on killing them both and framing Victor for the deaths. Katherine had gone into much detail about the dragon divorce customs and the fact that Rayne could have broken the arrangement at any time.

  Everett had always thought Rayne would get married, though probably not to a dragon, as she needed that connection with others. Katherine wouldn’t have understood that as she was most happy when she was by herself. Rayne always sought out company. When Society and the ton had rejected her because she was one hand short, she had forged her own place in the workplace. She wasn’t about the walk away lightly. Everett was well aware of her stubbornness. Moving in with Victor would help her feel connected to him at least.