“Biddable?” Victoria echoed. “I’m not a horse.”
“You will find that men appreciate an obedient woman,” Lady Anne sniffed. “If you are too intelligent, or too headstrong, or may God himself forbid it, too opinionated, you will never find a husband, and you will be alone.”
She closed the fan and held it tightly in both hands. “That doesn’t sound so bad. After all, I’ve been alone all of my life.” She smiled at Ida. “Present company excluded, of course.”
Lady Anne looked at the automaton, then back at her niece. “This construction of your father’s should never have been entrusted with your rearing. You should have been sent to me, and I would have turned you into a proper lady instead of…”
“Instead of what?” Victoria challenged. “A scientist? An engineer?”
The older woman raised her chin. “Instead of an undisciplined nuisance.” She heaved a dramatic sigh, and the bevels in the black beads around her neck caught the light. “Let’s get through this evening as well as we are able. Come along, Victoria.”
Ida gave her a quick embrace and a smile, and she wiped at her eye. It was an utter affectation, of course, because as a machine, she was unable to shed tears. Still, she gave the appearance of a proud mother seeing her only daughter off into the lion’s den. Sometimes, especially when she was confronted with humanity in the person of Lady Anne, Victoria believed that her father’s automatons were more humane than most real people.
She followed Lady Anne down the hallway to the wide grand staircase. Flowers stood against the bannisters, making the staircase look like a garden path. Victoria had never seen so many flowers in one place before.
“Did Father empty out a florist?” she asked her aunt.
Lady Anne brought herself to give a smile. “These are all from admirers, my dear. Your father is well situated at court and in several scientific societies throughout Britain and on the Continent. All of his friends and associates who have sons have sent them here to meet you tonight, and these flowers are from them.”
Victoria hesitated and considered turning right back around and running to her room. “That’s a lot of young men.”
“It is indeed.” Lady Anne faced her, the smile on her face patently false, her eyes flashing with dangerous disapproval. “I trust that you will not alienate any of them. They are all connected to men who are vital to your father’s business… whatever that is these days.”
There was a time when Victoria could have answered the question, but no longer. Her father had stopped working with the steamship and dirigible companies where he had made his name and had started keeping to himself. He said he was on sabbatical, and that he was working on a very special project. For more than three years, he had locked himself away in his laboratory, only coming out to take over the workshop with his partner, the Russian Prince Oleg Orpov. When Prince Orpov came to call, Victoria was sent to stay with Lady Anne, and though there were many times when she had tried to sneak a peek into the notebooks in Lord Charles’ study, she still knew nothing about what kept him so deeply occupied. She had barely seen him since she turned fifteen, and now that she was eighteen - or would be in two days - he was like a stranger to her.
Lady Anne turned back toward the stairs. “Come along, Victoria.”
She heard a string quartet tuning up, and the burble of polite conversation filled the front hall. There were indeed guests who had already begun to arrive. Lady Susannah, a girl her own age from another aristocratic Somerset family, stood in her own white evening gown, nervously smiling as her father prattled on. Her mother, an elegant woman with ice in her veins, stood silently by. Lady Susannah had been invited to receive guests as well, though this party was in Victoria’s honor. She probably should have felt peeved that the other girl was there to steal the attention away, but Victoria was glad that she had come. She needed somewhere to direct the men.
She followed Lady Anne into the grand hall, and Lady Susannah came forward to meet her. They joined hands and kissed one another on the cheeks.
“My darling Victoria! You look simply divine,” Lady Susannah cooed.
“And your gown is a delight,” Victoria responded, smiling.
“Lady Victoria.” Lord Hamilton, her father’s barrister, smiled and spoke in his deep, rumbling voice. “What a pleasure to be invited here this evening on such a festive event.”
She curtsied daintily, feeling like an idiot. She had known this man all of her life and had never curtsied to him once. “Thank you, my lord. I’m so pleased you could join us.”
From the back of the room, Lord Charles called, “My dear!”
Victoria turned to see her father hurrying through the room, a bouquet of roses and violets in his hand. Ribbons trailed from the white lace wrapping around the stems, and they flapped around him like tails. He came to her side and pressed the flowers into her hand while he kissed her on the cheek.
“There. Now you have a bunch of posies to hold, like the rules say you need.”
Lady Anne pursed her lips. “The rules, Charles? Indeed. You make it sound as if this is only a game.”
“Isn’t it?” Victoria asked. “An elaborate display. Just a pantomime.”
“This is the most important night of your life,” Lady Anne informed her archly. “Your entire future depends upon this evening.”
Victoria looked at her father, and he offered his arm. She put her hand through his elbow and rested it on his forearm, and he walked her into the ballroom. As they walked, he told her, “Most of these eager boys are interested in your dowry, not in you. I know that my sister wants you to hold your tongue and beguile them with innocence, but I want you to be yourself. If they can’t handle you in this setting, they certainly can’t handle you as a bride.”
She leaned against his shoulder. “Thank you, Papa. I honestly didn’t know what I could say that would appease that woman.”
“Well, you only have to be near her during the reception line, while she’s presenting you to everyone. And since you’re holding flowers given to you by your dear old father instead of a bouquet sent by one of these suitors, nobody will believe you have your eyes set on them.” He leaned closer. “My sister has already decided whom she wants for you, but don’t let her make that decision.”
Victoria smiled. “Thank you, Papa.”
He looked at her searchingly. “I can’t believe it’s already come to this, the last night of your childhood. You’re so soon to leave me. I’m going to lose you.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “You’ll never lose me, Papa.”
One of the mechanized servants rolled through, a tray of drinks balanced on its top. It was just tall enough for the tray to be at waist height. Her father cleared his throat and snagged a full champagne flute before the mech passed by.
“Now… there is one young man I’d like you to meet. I’m very interested to see how the two of you get along.”
She stifled a sigh. “Who is he?”
“His name is Dmitri. Prince Orpov’s nephew.”
“Oh! I didn’t know your Russian friend had any family members.”
Lord Charles laughed. “Oh, my dear. He, like all the aristocrats in Russia, is cousin to the Tsar. He has more family than anyone I know.”
He led her toward a place where a bower had been constructed using baskets of flowers. It smelled like roses and lilies, scents she normally found appealing, but there were so many blooms that the olfactory cloud was nearly overwhelming. Lord Charles positioned her in the center of the floral arch.
“There,” he said. “Pretty as a picture.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
He chucked her affectionately under the chin, something she hated, and wandered off toward the punchbowl, pulling a flask from his breast pocket. She watched him go as Lady Anne came to stand beside her, nearer to the door but still within the indoor flower garden that had been constructed.
“Is he drinking spirits again?” her aunt asked sourly.
V
ictoria sighed. “I don’t think he ever stopped.”
She stood at her aunt’s side through the tedious process of being formally introduced to everyone in attendance. The people who had answered the invitation were pleasant enough, with banal conversation and full of the sort of bland, meaningless compliments she had exchanged with Lady Susannah. Victoria longed for the line to be over. Beside her, Lady Susannah flourished in the attention, and she could perform the simpering maiden to a fare-thee-well.
When at last the string of strange faces and unfamiliar names came to an end, Victoria accepted her father’s arm and let him walk her to the punch bowl.
“Did you put your whiskey in this?” she asked him.
“Only a little.”
“Papa!” she scolded.
He laughed. “I’m joking, my dear. My whiskey is only for my own consumption, I assure you.” He poured a cup of punch into a cup and handed it to her. “Were there any young men who caught your eye?”
She sipped her drink. “Not one. I’ll confess - toward the end, they all ran together.”
Her father chuckled. “I’m sure they did.”
“Excuse me.” They turned to face a sandy-haired young man in a cavalry officer’s uniform. He bowed to them. “I wonder, Lady Victoria, if I might have this dance?”
The string quartet had begun playing a syrupy waltz, and she glanced at her father. She tried not to heave a sigh as she put her cup aside. Instead, trying her hardest to do what was expected of her, she allowed him to take her gloved hand. It felt strange. The only man to ever hold her hand was her father.
“I would be honored, Captain…?”
He smiled broadly, an expression that made his fair moustache spread like the hood on a frilled lizard. “Captain James Armstrong-Howe, my lady.”
She remembered his face vaguely but would never have been able to recall his name. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I’ve met so many new people tonight.”
He patted her hand. “I understand. Too many new names for your pretty little head to hold.”
If she’d been in her work boots, she would have kicked him in the shins. With the flimsy slippers she was wearing, she probably would have broken her toes. She smothered her indignation and let him lead her onto the dance floor.
Thankfully, the song was half-over when they reached the parquet, and propriety demanded that she not dance with any one man twice. She curtseyed to the captain and retreated as quickly as she could, making for the potted palms in the corner. She was intercepted on the way by a man in an immaculate black waistcoat and a shockingly red vest beneath it. He smiled, his dark eyes sparkling.
“Good evening, Lady Victoria. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
She would have remembered his face if he had been in the receiving line, but she was certain she had never seen him before. His lips were full and sensual, and his nose was perfectly straight. His complexion was unmarred, and he was clean-shaven. His eyes were so dark brown that they were nearly black, but they seemed to hint at merriment.
She offered her hand. “No, I don’t believe we have.”
The man kissed her gloved knuckles. “I am Dmitri Orpov, just arrived from St. Petersburg.”
“Enchanted, Your Highness.” She curtsied deeply.
Dmitri kept her hand in his and helped her back up to her feet. “And whoever said that I am a prince?”
“You are a prince’s nephew, are you not?”
“I am, but I was born a commoner, I fear. My mother was a princess, but my father was a simple cavalry officer. Quite the scandal, I assure you.”
His smile was engaging, and she found herself returning it. He was still holding her hand. Her heart beat faster.
“You don’t sound Russian.”
“Ah! Well, I was educated by an English tutor.”
“Nothing but the best for my sister’s son.”
The robust, accented voice could only have belonged to Prince Orpov. Victoria pulled her hand from Dmitri’s grasp and curtsied to her father’s friend.
“Your Highness.”
“Lady Victoria.” The Russian royal smiled with noblesse oblige. “I was hoping I could properly introduce this young fellow to you, but I see he has outdone me and introduced himself. Most inappropriate, Dmitri.”
Victoria’s father joined them, smiling, watching the young man carefully. Dmitri said, “I apologize, uncle. I was clumsy and nearly collided with the dear girl and couldn’t help myself.”
The prince looked unconvinced. “You have never been clumsy.”
“It was my fault,” Victoria said, blushing. “Mr. Orpov is making excuses for me. I confess I was heading toward the corner for a bit of respite. This many new people after such a quiet life is rather overwhelming.”
It was a lie, and her father at least knew it. Dmitri’s twinkling eyes seemed to say that he knew it, too.
She glanced out at the dance floor, just so she could look away from the handsome young man before she started to babble. To her horror, she saw Lady Anne escorting a sallow-faced man toward her. He was closer to middle age than to youth, and his brown hair was going a thin on top. He had a narrow face and a pointy Van Dyke beard that exacerbated the gauntness of his features.
Lord Charles saw them coming, too, and he swore softly. “Oh, bloody hell.”
Beside her, Dmitri pulled out a pocket watch and flipped open the cover. It was no watch at all, but a setting in which a clockwork dragonfly sat immobile. Its wings were covered in sky-blue enamel, and it had jewels for eyes.
“That’s lovely,” Victoria said. “May I see it?”
Dmitri began to hold it out to her, but Prince Orpov pushed his hand back. “It’s nothing. Only a family heirloom.”
“It seems a very modern style,” she opined, “unless clockwork was an old art in Russia.”
Lady Anne and her companion reached them. “Lady Victoria, this is Sir Neville Smythe. Sir Neville, my niece, Lady Victoria.”
She offered her hand reluctantly, and the thin man bent over it, kissing the air above her glove. He straightened. “I of course remember you from the reception,” he said, his voice as thin as the rest of him.
“I wish that I could say the same,” Victoria told him. Lady Anne’s face went splotchy.
“Ah…” Sir Neville looked at Lady Anne. “I, uh. I see.”
Lord Charles looked at Victoria with an arched eyebrow, and she stifled her next comment. She was tired of swallowing her words. “Have you come to ask me to dance, Sir Neville?”
The man’s countenance lit up. “Yes, indeed! May I have this dance, Lady Victoria?”
She bobbed a brief curtsey. “It would be my honor, sir.”
Lady Anne whispered to her as she passed. “He’s your best match.”
Victoria whispered back. “That’s for me to decide.”
Her evening descended into absolute tedium. She endured dance after dance with boringly earnest men who all strove to impress her with their money and status. The entire time, she thought of Dmitri and his clockwork dragonfly. That was no heirloom, she was certain of it. It had looked too new, and far too modern. She wanted to get a closer look. Dmitri had seemed willing enough to share it with her, but his uncle clearly wanted to keep it secret. She wondered why.
She saw Lady Susannah dancing with multiple suitors, and the other girl’s obvious joy at the experience sat at odds with Victoria’s deep ennui. She and Lady Susannah had known one another since childhood, but they could not have been more different. They had run out of things to say to one another years ago, and though the other girl was the closest thing Victoria had to a friend, they were so disconnected that they might have been strangers. Still, she wished Lady Susannah well; hopefully she would find the husband she so obviously craved before the end of the summer court season.
After another round of dancing with an oaf of an academic who kept stepping on her toes, Victoria excused herself and went out into the foyer to get some air. It was cooler out here
, and quieter, and there were only a few people to contend with. She sat on a divan to rest her aching feet. There was a couple - newlyweds, if she remembered correctly - who were strolling in from the garden, arm in arm. The young wife smiled and nodded to Victoria, and she nodded back. Once the couple passed, the foyer was empty again.
Victoria sat back as much as her corset would allow and closed her eyes. She was working on the beginning of a powerful headache, no doubt the result of being overheated in the crowded ballroom. She would be grateful when this night was over.
“Lady Victoria, are you well?”
She opened her eyes and sat up in surprise. Dmitri stood there, a look of concern on his handsome face. “Oh! Yes. Just resting.”
He smiled and sat beside her. “You’ve been very busy on the dance floor. So many suitors want your time and attention.”
“So it seems.” She glanced at him slyly. “I've noticed that you haven’t asked me to dance.”
“Ah. Well, that’s because I’m not a member of the marriage hunt. I thought I should leave room for someone whom you might actually want to get to know.”
Victoria laughed. “I’m not looking for a husband. I’m just going through with this social formality because it’s required of me, and because I want to make my father happy.”
Dmitri raised an eyebrow. “I thought all young ladies want to be married.”
“Not all of us.” She glanced at the open door to the ballroom. “Besides, there’s nobody in there that strikes my fancy.”
He nodded. “I see. Not even the dashing cavalry officer? He would be willing to die for you, no doubt.”
“I don’t want a man to die for me.”
“No?” He looked at her quizzically. “Don’t you want the grand romance?”
“First of all, I don’t believe in grand romance. Second, I don’t want someone to die for me. How stupid that would be. If he really loved me, he wouldn’t go off and get himself killed and leave me alone.”
Of Steel and Steam Page 57
