Lily pulled out of reach then raised her fingers to rub at her temple. “Henry belongs here. He has roots going back generations.”
Sam stared at Lily. She couldn’t believe her sister would even think such a thing, much less plan it.
Lily’s expression didn’t change. Her sister didn’t laugh and reveal this to be a jest. The pain shining from her eyes showed the decision hadn’t been lightly made, but made it had been.
“You really mean it. Just like Kate said.” Sam took a step back toward the door. “You are going to cast me out. You have your normal life here with Henry, your trips to Dover, your hateful lady’s maid. Why do you need a dangerous little sister who can never leave?”
She twisted and stumbled from the room, vision clouded with unshed tears.
Lily called her name, but Sam didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
2
Sam longed for the comfort of her workshop. It was the one place she could be sure no one else would come to find her except Lily, and now she knew her sister wouldn’t come either.
At the last moment, though, she sought refuge in her room, unwilling to chance a meeting with one of Henry’s staff. She couldn’t face questioning whether they’d been told she would be cast out, or whether they would rejoice when they learned of Lily’s plan.
Her chest felt tight, as though she couldn’t breathe, and her temples pounded out a rhythm nothing like the one signaling a bout of mechanical energy too strong to contain. No, this gaped more like a freshly dug well, too deep to see the bottom and too tall to climb out of should she tumble. She teetered on the edge of despair for the first time in her life, now when things were supposed to be better.
The room she’d once thought wonderful looked bare as she crossed the threshold and sank onto the bed, her eyes gone dry.
No clock rested on a shelf, no metalwork at all, and the furniture held only the simplest of contraptions. Her chest was just that, a lidded box rather than the drawers found even in the Cook’s room. Every piece told her what she should have seen, her mind trapped in the knowledge that Lily had not denied Cook’s theory.
The mechanical man she’d repaired back in London, and kept despite the dangers, came out to comfort her now. Her creations never denied her. They would trail after her, find her wherever she might go, if they could. They would never abandon her by choice.
Sam shoved it away.
Its chilled metal form held none of the comfort her sister had offered over the years. Before it could topple off the coverlet, though, she caught hold of its toothpick-thin arm and pulled it back against her chest. Her memory locked on the way Lily curved fingers around her womb when she thought Sam wouldn’t notice, much like how Sam cradled her creation now.
The truth glared at her with the bright glimmer of fresh-beaten brass.
Lily was pregnant, but more, she didn’t dare bring a child into a house where Sam, an unchecked Natural, roamed free.
All this time, in her workshop, or wandering across the fields and sending the cattle scattering with her latest invention, Sam had missed the obvious. She hadn’t seen the choices in her furnishings, the way her workshop had bars inside and locks outside, nor in how no one knew she existed beyond servants loyal to Henry.
Lily loved Sam, but did not trust her, and she never had.
Sam folded both arms under her chin and stared out at the rolling green of Henry’s estate. She longed for the peace she’d denied to her sister just hours before. Her gaze did not see the dog snapping at the heels of an early spring calf, or Mister Simmons calling the cattle boy to task.
What scrolled past her vision took the form of lecture after lecture as far back as she could remember. Lily telling her the same things over and over: to make sure they were safe, to make sure Sam stayed hidden, to make sure…
No matter how much she grew, no matter how much she read and learned, Sam would not be able to change her very nature. She could try all she liked, but never again to experience any emotion strong enough to trigger a bout, never to feel the pull of a metal object begging for a new form, seemed a greater curse than being trapped in a moldy stable. And no more possible than making an instrument capable of tearing away her ability to see the heart and soul of what others believed to be lifeless machines.
Awkward movement in the corner of her eye caught Sam’s attention, and at first, she thought one of her contraptions had escaped. Then she saw it for the broken cart it was, a wooden one dragged by a farmhand. Her emotions had taken hold so strongly that she could see the soul in objects containing almost no metal, a rare event when aether clung best to metal in high concentrations. The nails holding it together should not have had any pull at all.
Where the farmhand cursed in words Lily would have blushed to hear, Sam saw possibility, a longing for this broken-down cart to be something different, something wonderful.
Her mechanical man twitched against her, no more comfortable with sitting still than she normally was.
Sam glanced from the cart to her creation and felt a bubble of laughter climb through her body where she thought joy lost to her forever.
“I don’t have to go after all,” she told the mechanical. “I just have to prove to my sister that I can help with her children. I can help them understand a bigger world than most can see, and I can be careful. Isn’t my guard to lock me in the workshop proof enough of that? I can tell when a bout is coming and sequester myself.”
The mechanical man offered no answer, speech not one of the abilities she’d found in the ethereal energy wrapped around its once-broken form. Much like the cart, she’d given it another chance to become something more and would continue to do so as long as it cried out for change.
“And if you can grow and change through the aether wrapped around your form, surely I can as well. The priests in Henry's books say we’re born with a soul, that people are at least. So I must have more aether than you’ll ever gather.” Maybe someday she’d be able to go down to the village church and hear the priests on her own. That would prove to Lily she’d learned control. Not yet, but maybe someday. For now, it would be enough to show that she would never ever harm any child, much less one of Lily’s.
She put aside her mechanical man with a peck on its little, geared cheek, and paused long enough to straighten her hair and skirt. When her bare feet met the woven fibers of the hall runner, Sam turned back to add stockings and slippers to her outfit. If she were to be a good aunt, she had to put her wild years behind her. Convincing Lily wouldn’t be easy, but something as simple as shoes seemed a good start.
SAM’S RETURN TO THE SITTING room held none of the rush of her leaving. She contemplated all the ways she could help with children, from making a self-rocking cradle to entertaining them with mechanical men. There should be time to convince her sister while the baby grew inside Lily.
Her sister would forget about sending Sam away, and everything would be back to normal.
No. A smile crept over Sam’s lips. It would be better than normal.
Fate watched over her because Sam ran into no one, not even Cook, before she reached the sitting room door. She must have left it ajar in her haste. A crack showed light from the windows beyond.
Sam paused, and in that moment, she heard the deep rumble of Henry’s voice.
Good. Better for them both to hear at once. Then she wouldn’t have to explain twice and chance messing things up.
Her palm touched wood, but before she could push the door open, Henry’s words came through the slight gap.
“I’m capable of caring for both you and Sam. You know I am. This decision is tearing you apart, and I can’t imagine Samantha’s faring much better.”
Sam couldn’t move, unable to leave for all she knew it would be the right thing to do, and frozen stiff so she couldn’t call out and reveal her presence either.
One muffled thud followed by another sounded as though Henry had dropped to his knees at Lily’s side, much like Sam had done earlier. “I can’t bear to see you hur
ting.”
“Hush, Henry. You’re not helping by taking my pain onto your own shoulders. The doctors don’t know what’s wrong. None of them—not a one—gave much hope.”
Henry’s groan muffled Sam’s gasp as everything she’d thought true shifted.
Lily wasn’t pregnant. Her sister was still sick—very sick.
“I don’t care what they say. They’re wrong. And so are you. You need Sam here. I can watch over her while you recover your strength. You just need more time.”
Lily’s voice sounded weak when she answered his refusal to hear her words. “You have to accept the truth, Henry. You’ve been nothing but devoted to Sam since you discovered her existence. No one could fault you for your care, even when something has gone wrong.”
“Then why do this? Why hurt all three of us?”
Her voice hardened. “You think I haven’t considered all the possibilities? You think I haven’t tried to figure out a better answer? Samantha is trapped here. You should have heard her when I spoke of your discovery. It cut me that I’d kept it hidden for so long in the hopes something would change. Nothing changes. She won’t get better any more than I will, and my pretending only cost her time she could have been happy among her own kind.”
“She welcomes this?” His voice rose higher with each word, straining against his incredulity.
The strength went out of Lily’s tones, and Sam had to lean forward to catch the end of her words.
“Until she learned she would go alone.”
The door creaked where she leaned against it, and Sam held her breath, waiting for discovery. As much as she was afraid of what her sister would say, another scolding would be kinder than what she had heard.
Neither seemed to notice as Henry began speaking again, urging Lily to let go of this idea, to keep her family together as she’d always promised.
“Henry, stop. You’re not helping as much as you want to. You know as well as I do that simple love is not enough for Sam. When her bouts come and she loses control, only my touch can calm her. What will you do once I’m gone?”
“You’ll never be gone.”
Lily sighed heavily enough for Sam to hear the exhalation of air. “You know that’s not likely. And you can’t afford to chance Sam running off and revealing her true nature. Neither can Sam. Do you know what Mister Simmons told me when we arrived? He was so proud of her. My lovely little sister has changed the workshop you made for her from a refuge into a prison. Do you know why? So she can make sure she doesn’t cause trouble when a bout overcomes her. What kind of life is that for her? Sending her away is the only answer. Keeping her here is selfishness.”
Sam wanted to burst through the door and protest, to say she didn’t mind protecting them, but instead, she heard what lay behind her sister’s words. She remembered how Lily’s coughing lasted longer each year. The visits to Dover became something other than pleasure jaunts, her gifts less treats than an excuse.
Her sister lay dying, and rather than focusing on her own needs, she worried about Sam. Lily had always focused on Sam, and now she called herself selfish for keeping them together.
Samantha swore from that moment on she would do everything in her power to make this easier on Lily. If she could do nothing to help, at least she would no longer make things harder. It was time for her to stand on her own and prove Lily had raised her well.
Forcing her lips into a cheerful smile, Sam returned to her room to start packing. Lily needed rest, relief from the burdens she’d carried since she’d been a little younger than Sam was now.
If her sister had any chance of survival, Sam had to leave.
3
Sam had all her things packed in almost no time at all. Most lived in her chest already. The biggest question lay in whether she could take any of her mechanicals. She suspected the answer would be no and mourned for their pain.
Her first mechanical man had come to her that way. Its Natural had vanished. Maybe he’d gone on to a safe haven, but Sam suspected a much different end to a Natural in the busy streets of London.
She settled down to wait for dinner, deciding it best to give Henry and her sister some time, but sitting still never came easy. Before she’d made a conscious decision to do so, Sam had the few tools she kept hidden in her room out again. Her adopted mechanical man would finish out his existence in this form, however long a mechanical lived. The least she could do was make one last fix. Though she couldn’t see how he’d use the ability to spring up like a cricket locked in her workshop, he wanted this change.
The resonant chime of the dinner bell startled Sam. She glanced out the window to see the daylight already faded, time vanishing along with it. Dark never bothered her when transforming. The aether itself offered a glow strong enough to see by while it guided her through the change.
She jumped to her feet and wiped both hands down the sides of her skirt, wincing a moment later at the grease stains she’d left behind. Normally she wouldn’t work in her room for that reason, but Lily deserved a rest before facing Sam again.
Sam blushed to remember her behavior. She’d acted like a petulant child. Lily never had the opportunity to behave so when she was younger, and Sam had given her no chance to explain. She suspected her sister would have kept the truth secret anyway, though.
The heat faded from Sam’s cheeks as she contemplated how she would convince Lily and Henry. She set her mind to the dream and put aside the knowledge that she’d have to leave them here. For once, she needed to be the strong one. They must never suspect how much she feared facing the world outside on her own.
The others had already reached the table when Sam paused at the dining room archway.
Her sister looked exhausted.
Henry glanced up to see Sam first. “Ah, there you are,” he said as though nothing had happened.
Sam realized he had no way to know that it had.
Lily’s whole body tensed before she turned with a smile Sam could tell took more work than it warranted.
Sam focused on the dream a Natural safe haven represented so her smile held true emotion.
“Sit yourself down, Miss Samantha. Can’t have the first course going cold now, can we?”
It took no effort at all to turn her grin on Cook.
Steam rose from the soup tureen, a fragrant mist unlike the output of the steam generators that powered the house and mill.
“Are you hungry?” Cook asked, her eyes twinkling as though she’d just come up with this joke instead of making it at every meal.
Sam lifted her bowl without a word, happy to accept not one but a full three ladles of the creamy orange dish.
A half-choked laugh came from Lily, drawing all their attention to the far end of the table.
Lily shrugged. “It’s just I didn’t expect you to have an appetite.” The humor in her expression drained out as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving Lily pale with shadowed eyes.
Sam took a quick spoonful of the soup then replaced the utensil. “Why shouldn’t I have an appetite? I’ll need my energy for the trip to come. I can’t imagine it’ll be simple.”
She waited for them to respond, either to her words or to the deliberately cheerful tone, but Henry and Lily only stared.
“I am still to go, am I not?” She knew full well they had no choice, but it was enough to break the shock.
“You want to go?”
That from Henry.
“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve been dreaming of this for as far back as I can remember.” She turned to her sister. “I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. It was a shock, and I’d always expected you to be with me.” Another pause. “But it’s past time I learn how to make shift on my own. You were taking care of me and supporting both of us when you were my age. I can manage a journey.”
“You wouldn’t start out alone.”
“Lily, no.” Henry put his hand over hers, but she pulled away.
“I will take you to the ship. I promise you, Samantha. This is for the
best.” Finally her smile seemed stronger and more genuine.
“I would like that.” Sam’s voice softened, but the emotion felt truer. With all that she now knew, to have Lily come with her even part of the way seemed a boon.
Henry frowned at Lily, but Sam understood his concern.
“I won’t keep her long.”
He swung his attention to Sam and shook his head. “I know you won’t. And I will come too. It’ll be a grand outing, one you deserve after all this time locked away on my estate. We’ll need to make sure you have everything you require for the journey as well. Do you think you can hold fast for long enough to go shopping with your sister?”
A memory of the busy London streets, with machines racing along at every turn, swept over Sam. She stared at the soup that had, in fact, gone cold. “I’ll do my best.”
“You can have my hand the whole time, Samantha, and when you’ve had enough, Henry will finish getting what you need, won’t you, Henry dear?”
He touched a napkin to his lips and set it aside, signaling an end to the course. “Yes, I can follow a list, but we’d best look at clothing and the like early in the day. I doubt Sam shares my measurements for all she’s been sprouting up.”
Sam and Lily both laughed at that, the image of Sam lost in Henry’s clothes too comical to take without reaction.
Though Cook tsked when she saw Sam’s poor effort on the soup, Sam made sure to do better on the other courses, her false willingness turned genuine. She never mentioned the packing that had ensured enough to keep her, nor her doubts about wandering a city of any size, even with Lily to cling to.
Everything would be perfect. She’d make sure of it.
HENRY HAD EXPLAINED TO SAM how he needed a day to make final arrangements. He’d already spoken to various captains about securing a passage but had to discover which ships were in port. He also planned to draft letters of introduction, using his contacts to ease her path all the way to the Natural haven he had found.
A day seemed too long for Sam to maintain her delight, but soon she realized she had much to do beyond packing.
Secrets (The Steamship Chronicles Book 1) Page 2
