Buried In Blue

by L G Rollins

  The butler appeared and took her workbook, gloves, and lab coat. Her new one.

  Slowly the pain at William’s death was fading. It helped that friends and colleagues had rallied around her in ways she could never have expected.

  Colleagues kept her busy with questions and interesting discussions while at the shared laboratory in town. Addie and her fiance Matthew never let Elise spend a weekend alone. Nathaniel and Melissa frequently invited her for dinner—that last one pushed the boundaries of propriety. But Elise brought her maid, Alison, and Nathaniel’s mother was always present.

  While no scandal had come of it, Elise had suffered through many a cold stare from the matriarch. Well, she had given her fair share of those. It seemed justified that she be on the receiving end now.

  However, even with all the support from those around her, she still found herself alone several times a day.

  Each time, the solitude brought with it images of William’s face, contorted with fury and pain.

  It would be a long time before she felt truly at peace again.

  “You have a caller, ma’am,” the butler said in his ever-formal tone. “He is waiting in the parlor.”

  She nodded her thanks, grateful for whomever had come and interrupted her most recent struggle with memory, and moved down the hall. Hopefully it was Lord Chauncey. He was recovering well from his “death-defying adventures at sea”, as he called it. The phrase was meant to be a bit tongue-in-cheek, but it hit closer to the truth than Elise cared for.

  Despite his increasing health, he had yet to visit her in the laboratory since their return. Just yesterday she’d had the most interesting conversation with a colleague about copper’s resistance to corrosion, and it’s consequence use as an nickel alloy for making items frequently exposed to seawater. Items such as cheap utensils that the lower class often used.

  The information had sent her brainbox wheeling and she was still mulling over possible ramifications. Utensils made with copper could very well be how so many of the lower class were being exposed to the metal; while the upper class, who ate with silver alloy utensils, were not.

  Elise moved through the doorway and into the parlor. Lord Chauncey was not the one standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back. But this visitor was far more welcomed.

  “Hello, Nathaniel.”

  He turned and gave her one of those smiles she loved so much. As she neared him, he took hold of her hand and butterflies skittered up her arm and into her stomach.

  “Am I presumptuous in assuming you’ve come to ask that I join you for supper tonight?” Her life now was so different than before her venture to the Puerto Rico Trench. It was not surprising that the more she willingly opened up and engaged with others the more they did with her. What was surprising, was how much her new connections enhanced her days.

  Lord Chauncey had been right, she had been missing out on much in life.

  Nathaniel leaned toward her and kissed and forehead. “Not presumptuous at all. But, more than that, I wanted to speak with you.”

  “Sounds important,” she said lightly, motioning toward the sofa. The loneliness she felt on first returning home could never stay with her when Nathaniel was around.

  They sat, but he didn’t recline back, nor did he sit directly next to her. Instead, he rested against the edge of the sofa, turning so he could face her, and took her hands. He slowly began tracing circles atop her hands, as he was wont to do. Gracious, this was serious. Had Melissa’s nightmares returned? Was his mother ill?

  “Just before meeting you, I finished a several year voyage at sea, which had been quite lucrative,” Nathaniel began. That opening didn’t give Elise much indication where this was headed, but his tone made it clear this was important.

  “The amount I earned was going to allow me to stay on shore for a few years, before returning to the Gearhound.”

  A deep sadness crept up her arms. “Was going to allow you?” Was he leaving? Setting sail again so soon? After seeing him nearly every day for the past two months, his absence would leave a impossibly large hole.

  “I have enough to purchase a new submarine. But if I were to do so, I’d have to set sail by the end of the year.”

  He was. He was leaving her. “Please don’t go.” Her words were low, barely stronger than a whisper.

  The tip of Nathaniel’s lips twitched up. Lifting a hand, he stroked back a few wayward strands of hair. His touch trailed heat across her cheeks.

  “I didn’t believe I had any other options.” His voice was as soft as hers had been.

  “Didn’t believe?” Hope blossomed inside her. “As in you do believe there’s another option now?”

  He kissed her temple. “I wanted you to know why I haven’t said anything before now.”

  If he wanted her to be able to think clearly enough to be able to understand anything, he truly ought not to be kissing her down the side of her face. “Not said what?” she mumbled.

  Nathaniel stopped kissing her and cupped her face with a hand. “This morning I learned that Lord Chauncey, without my knowing it, has taken to his old harassing ways once more. This time, in my behalf. The committee has agreed to pay me the originally agreed upon sum for your experiment, plus the cost of losing the Gearhound.”

  Elise’s mouth dropped open. The sum must be astronomical. “How did Lord Chauncey ever manage?”

  Nathaniel looked on the verge of laughing. “I don’t know, but I can imagine.” His voice sobered as his gaze dropped momentarily to her lips. “This means I don’t have to leave. It means I can support a wife.”

  “A . . . wife?” The word felt strange, yet exhilarating.

  Nathaniel pressed his forehead against hers. “I know you feel responsible for many lives. You care so much for werewolves and healthy humans alike. I promise I would never take you away from your aspirations and dreams. But could you, possibly, find room in your life for a couple more people to care about?”

  Her heart was beating so loud, Elise wasn’t entirely sure she was hearing him right. “Just who did you have in mind?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know—maybe an old captain without a submarine and a budding chemist who prefers breeches to skirts?” His gaze dropped once more to her lips. He leaned in.

  Nathaniel kissed her. Soft and sweet. Gentle and hopeful.

  “Marry me, Elise darling?” His tone turned teasing. “I solemnly swear it’s the logical thing to do.”

  Elise did laugh at that. “Logical or no, my answer would be the same.”

  He pulled back, eyes watching her expectantly.

  “Yes,” she said. “With all my heart, yes.”

  He pulled her close and his lips met hers once more. It was an explosion of warmth and excitement. Elise wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in closer. Meeting his vivacity with passion of her own, she deepened the kiss.

  Nathaniel pulled back slightly. “Should we tell Melissa tonight over supper?” he whispered against her lips.

  That impetuous, little girl would become Elise’s daughter—the thought felt wholly right. “Can you really wait that long?”

  “No.” His grin turned mischievous. “But I can wait until after this.” Pulling her close, Nathaniel kissed her again.

  lise breathed in the heady smells of crowds and sweets and animal droppings. A soft breeze nipped her cheeks, and filled her chest with contented satisfaction. The springtime sun shone down, warming her face once more.

  “Can I go again, Papa?” Melissa’s delighted cry brought Elise’s gaze back to the carousel.

  Nathaniel had her halfway off an iron horse, but Melissa had one hand determinedly planted on the bar connecting the horse to the metal workings above.

  “You’ve already ridden five times,” Nathaniel’s patient tone carried with it more amusement than censure.

  Melissa looked past him and called to Elise. “Oh, please? I love it so much and the circus is leaving town tomorrow.”

  Nathaniel glanced h
er way as well, an eyebrow lifted in question. In his eyes she could see the exhaustion of a long day in the sun mixed with his sincere joy at his daughter’s happiness. Nathaniel could say so much with the simplest twist of an eyebrow. How did he do it? Elise was much better than she had been a year ago about expressing herself and letting her feelings be made known. But she seriously doubted she would ever be able to convince her face to reveal all Nathaniel’s did and with such natural ease.

  She hadn’t yet figured out exactly why some individuals turned to werewolves and other did not, but her research concluded that copper utensils were the most likely suspect.

  Also, she was on the verge of making a tonic that would ease how much moonlight affected a werewolf. An individual taking it would still shift, but it wouldn’t be nearly as painful and early testing showed the individual would keep more of their sensibilities about them.

  Her werewolf research was stunning scientist across the globe. Perhaps, one day her open expression would as well.

  “I suppose it would be alright,” she called back.

  Melissa screamed with pleasure as Nathaniel replaced her on the horse and paid the carousel operator yet another coin. With a shake of his head and a half smile, he walked back over and took hold of Elise’s hand.

  After being married nearly a year, a rush of joy still flowed up her arm every time he took her hand. She squeezed his fingers laced between hers.

  This was happiness.

  Pure. Simple. Happiness.

  Even Nathaniel’s mother could not doubt that they loved one another. Though she had been cold at first, she eventually warmed to the idea of Elise being her daughter-in-law. She’d even found a fellow-kumquat-lover in her. So long as they stayed off topics of woman’s rights and werewolves they got on quite well.

  Nathaniel leaned closer to her. “I think that imp has figured out which of us is more likely to give her what she wants and when.”

  “Well,” Elise leaned her head against his shoulder. “She is a bright child.”

  Surrounded by the enthusiastic chatter of an entertained crowd, they watched Melissa ride around and around. Every time she came into view Melissa waved, and they waved back.

  In some ways, it felt strange to be standing here, looking at the same carousel she’d ridden last year. The harlequin design had not changed, the horses were still vibrant. Yet, Elise, herself, was so different.

  “You know,” Elise said. “Last time I was here, I don’t think I really enjoyed the circus.”

  Nathaniel pulled back, feigning tones of shock. “Are you bamming the day we met?”

  She smiled and laughed softly. “No. I mean the circus. I was so busy worrying about my research and proving myself to the committee that I didn’t even allow myself a moment to stop and appreciate all this.” She waved an open hand at the attractions and sights around them.

  Nathaniel let go of her hand and looped his arm around her waist. As amazing as holding his hand was, this was even better; they fit perfectly together. She leaned against him, her happiness deepening at his nearness. Gears above, how she loved this man.

  “Have you heard?” he asked. “They’ve got some new contraption that’s supposed to be coming next year. It’s a bench just big enough for two, connected to a track. The engine cranks excessively hard, shooting the passengers forward and up through a loop before coming down again.”

  Elise’s stomach lurched just at the thought. “You don’t mean they go upside-down?”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  Elise shuttered. “I’ve done enough summersaults inside the Gearhound, thank you very much.” People wanted to experience such a thing? Still, she couldn’t help but smile at the excitement in Nathaniel’s blue eyes. If he wanted to give it a go, she would sit calmly on the sideline and wish him well.

  Nathaniel chuckled again and hugged her close. A couple women watched them with disapproving gazes, then whispered to one another behind gloved hands. Elise gave them a smile and then turned her own gaze back to Melissa—still riding, still waving. Let society think what they will about her and Nathaniel’s open display of their love for one another. Elise hugged him yet closer. She wasn’t going to worry about those sorts of things any more.

  A young messenger boy ran up to them, a brown-paper-wrapped box in his hand. “’Scuse me sir. Are ya Doctor Sterlin’?”

  Nathaniel pointed toward Elise, and the boy’s eyes went wide. “Yer the doctor?”

  She nodded. To this day, people still could not wrap their heads around the concept of a lady research doctor. “But I’m Doctor Hopkins now.”

  The boy squinted in confusion. “Well I’ve got a package for a Doctor Sterlin’. The lady said it was awful ‘portant.”

  Nathaniel pulled a couple coins from his pocket. “We’ll take it.”

  The messenger didn’t wait a minute longer, but scooped up the coins, dropped the small package into Elise’s outstretched hand, and was gone.

  Curious, Elise turned the package over several times, but it was blank. No recipient name, no sender information. How strange. She glanced at her husband. Nathaniel’s quirked brow showed he had no more of an idea what was inside than she did. Elise tore off a section of brown paper. Inside was a box topped with a letter. Nathaniel wordlessly took the box from her, leaving her free to open the letter—Elise’s thoughts momentarily left the letter to feel gratitude for a man who seemed to read her mind.

  Then she focused on the letter once more. She turned it over, but it too was unlabeled. Elise pulled it open, her gaze first jumping to the signature at the bottom.

  Her eyes went wide. “It’s from Pearl.”

  “What?” Nathaniel moved closer, reading the note over her shoulder.

  Doctor,

  We never had the opportunity to say thank you. You gave us a much better life than we would have ever had otherwise. We owe you. Hopefully, this will help in your research.

  Pearl

  P.S. If that captain is still upset over the Gearhound, tell him we know he got a perfect little wife out of the deal and he should be satisfied.

  Nathaniel harrumphed. Elise didn’t know what to think. Didn’t have opportunity to say thank you? Preposterous. They had ample time; and her test subjects spent most of it pirating the Gearhound. At least they were happy. Nathaniel and herself were currently looking into purchasing a new submarine, and she had the committee’s full backing—financial, social, and otherwise.

  When the committee had learned that they didn’t have to compensate any of the test subjects, because all said test subjects were now fugitives aboard the Gearhound, it had softened them enough that Sackville could turn them, as he promised he would. Elise let out a small breath. Strange to think, but truth was, Sackville was now her biggest supporter.

  Thieving was thieving, and would always be wrong. But they hadn’t ruined hers and Nathaniel's future. After all that happened, Elise didn’t wish any of her test subjects ill will.

  Her gaze turned to the small box in Nathaniel’s hand. They felt they owed her? The idea warmed her; not that she ever wanted someone indebted to her nor had she ever worked to that end, but it was comforting to know she had changed the life of a small group of individuals so radically that they wished to show their appreciation with . . . whatever was inside.

  Either that or they were soothing their guilt. But Elise preferred to look at it as a show of gratitude.

  She swapped Nathaniel the letter for the package. Something inside clinked lightly at the movement. Nathaniel’s arms tightened supportingly around her. He was so good at that: never overpowering, never demanding, but always beside her, loving her and encouraging her.

  The box was worn and crumpled on one side. The lid slid off easily. Off-white fabric packaged whatever was inside. Elise pulled on a corner. The fabric had seams and what appeared to be a pocket. An old shirt perhaps?

  When the test subjects took control of the submarine, they also stole everyone’s belongings. No doubt the
new Gearhound crew had more clothes than they knew what to do with. Elise blinked away the brief memory of William’s betrayal. It still stung whenever she thought about him and what he’d done, but it didn’t haunt her as it once had.

  Tucked softly in the folds of fabric, a glass tube reflected the evening sunlight. Elise pulled it out. She knew this vial, she’d had several glass ones like this in her makeshift lab, which she’d been forced to leave behind with her clothing. They were messing with her chemicals now? Her lips pinched with frustration. Did they have any idea the worth of her collection?

  The glass vial was cold against her finger tips, and filled with a near-black liquid. Apparently, the Gearhound’s new crew had thrown out the old contents and replaced them. A small strip of parchment was wrapped beside the wax-sealed cork. A label.

  Seven days before full moon – Male.

  Elise rocked the vial back and forth; the liquid rolled, thick inside.

  “Blood?” Nathaniel asked softly.

  Good heavens. Elise pulled another glass vial out of the box. It was filled with the same dark liquid. Labeled with the same stiff script:

  During shift, human to wolf – Male

  These were the samples she needed. Shock and eagerness and wonder rushed through her. For the first time ever, with all Elise’s practice at always appearing unaffected, even she could not stop the enormous grin that threatened to break her face in two.

  She was holding the blood samples she needed.

  Elise may have mumbled something such as, “I can’t believe it.” But she wasn’t sure. Nathaniel, she was fairly sure, said something in return. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything except the vials in the box. She pulled two more out.

  Full moon, second night – Male.

  Seven days after last night of full moon – Male.

  Below were four more vials. All labeled exactly the same, except with the word “Female”.

  Pearl’s blood. It had to be; she was the only woman on the Gearhound. She had done this for Elise. Whether it had originally been Pearl’s idea or Lenton’s or one of the other test subjects, Elise would never know. But they had done this for her.