Clockwork Heart: Clockwork Love, Book 1

by Heidi Cullinan

  A spy? Félix? Normally Cornelius would laugh, but given everything that had happened, he wasn’t certain what to put his faith in anymore. What he did know was he wasn’t sitting in this horrid lizard’s company any longer. Conny stood, retrieving his jacket from the arm of the chair. “Charming as it is to listen to your fairy tales, I believe I must be going. I’m sure I’ll never see you again, so I wish you the best of luck in finding a color of suit coat more flattering to your skin. Bonne continuation.”

  He breezed out of the room before Savoy could force him to endure a response, managing to save his shudder for the privacy of the hallway. Much as he would have loved to vacate the house entirely, politeness dictated he find the magistrate first and bid him goodbye before taking his leave. Maddeningly, his host was indisposed, and Conny had to wait in the study for his chance at a brief audience.

  He poked about idly, running his fingers down the spines of some books on a shelf while keeping one eye on the door, hoping Tremblay would appear, worried Savoy would instead. There was no hope in finding something to read to fill the time, as the magistrate only kept dull books of record in here, saving the better titles for his library. Still, Conny amused himself by poking around behind the dry leather tomes, hoping to discover an illicit hidden gem. Maybe something erotic or at least mildly titillating? After several searches to no avail, he began to read the report volumes out of sheer boredom, and this was when he found the dictionary.

  It was tucked inside some dry book of law, and it tumbled to the floor when Conny removed the volume which housed it. Dictionnaire Français-Allemand, the title read, and Cornelius delighted to see this was precisely what it was. An old, battered thing with pages missing and all manner of notes scribbled in the margins and sometimes across whole words, but it was a dictionary, a means by which Cornelius could communicate more easily with Johann.

  Conny tucked the slim volume into his pocket and took it home with him.

  Johann was as excited as Cornelius at the discovery, and they spent the better part of the evening expanding each other’s vocabularies. Conny rather enjoyed learning some of Johann’s language too. Over the next few days, it helped improve Johann’s progress by leaps and bounds. When Cornelius went out or performed surgery with Master Félix, Johann practiced writing and reading aloud, and when they worked together, Cornelius corrected Johann’s pronunciation, trying to teach him a native French accent. He assumed Johann would have more questions once he had more language capability, but the only one he did ask took Cornelius entirely by surprise.

  “Conny.” Johann pointed to one of Master Félix’s old journals they were using for reading practice. “This says conne, but others call you this too.”

  “An abbreviation for Cornelius, yes.”

  Johann frowned. “But is bad. Conne means…” He trailed off, blushing.

  Conny lifted the corner of his mouth. “It means idiot, bitch, and it’s feminine? Yes. The first night Valentin met me, he didn’t like me, and he christened me with it. He thought it was funny, because my name is English, and my natural French nickname is such a terrible insult. My mother wasn’t thinking things through, I’m afraid, when she Anglicized my father’s middle name. But I’ve never been proud, and alas, sometimes the description is terribly apt.”

  Johann’s frown deepened. “Pardon me, but I do not understand.”

  Such a dear, adorable man. Conny sighed and winked. “I don’t mind the name.”

  Johann seemed mildly relieved. “Is good?”

  “Is quite good. You may use the name as well, if you like.”

  “I call you…Conny?”

  What had been an innocent exchange became immediately charged. Conny was long used to a state of constant arousal around Johann, but in that moment he went past longing into his increasingly common delusion that perhaps Johann fancied him too.

  Clearing his throat, he popped to his feet. “Let’s take a stroll, shall we?”

  They took a great many strolls, the two of them, more and more often as Conny became increasingly desperate to escape the close confines of his bedroom with a handsome man he could not under any circumstances allow himself to seduce. Johann seemed to enjoy going out, sometimes speaking to strangers now that he knew enough French to get by. He liked to do the ordering at the market as well.

  Once, while strolling down a crowded street with his protégé, Conny saw Savoy lurking on the other side of the street, observing them. Cornelius pretended not to notice, but he worried the rest of the day he’d return to the shop only to find the horrid little physician waiting for him, following through on his promise to bring trouble into Cornelius’s already amply complicated life.

  Alas, it was not Savoy waiting to turn the world on its head. When Conny and Johann returned to his apartment, they discovered the door unlocked and Valentin waiting for them inside.

  He was holding the French-German dictionary.

  Chapter Four

  “What the devil is this?” Val waved the book at Cornelius, loosening one of the pages. “Why do you have this book?”

  “It isn’t mine. I borrowed it from the magistrate.” Cornelius rescued the book and tucked the page back inside. “How did you get into my rooms? I know I remembered to set the locks.”

  “The door was open when I arrived. All the doors were, though no one answered when I called. Don’t change the subject. I want to talk about this book.” Valentin glared at Johann. “You need that dictionary because he’s Austrian, don’t you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed his bad French and that funny accent. I thought maybe he was a stupid thug from some border town, but it’s worse than that, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know where he’s from. It’s not the sort of thing we discuss.” That was the truth. Both of them carefully circumnavigated all talk of their past.

  Johann said nothing, as was his custom, taking his lead in this fiction from Cornelius. But he watched Valentin from his post at the door.

  Valentin aimed an angry finger at Conny. “You’ve been with him a month since I found out, and you’d been reclusive for two weeks before that, so I’m assuming he’s been living with you for two months. What in the world have you been doing? Don’t tell me teaching him French.”

  Yes, mostly. That, and perfecting Johann’s gait and tweaking his clockwork. There was also that one time he’d gently drugged Johann so he could check on his heart, but he wasn’t proud of that.

  Of course, Cornelius could say none of this to Valentin. “What do you think I’ve been doing in my rooms with a handsome, lusty sky pirate?”

  “No, you haven’t been fucking him. You put on a good act that first night, but not since. You don’t touch him overmuch. You don’t take him out except what you feel you must to pacify us. Yet he absorbs all your time, causes you to shirk all but your most unavoidable obligations. And now I discover you’re teaching him French. Because he can only speak German. With an Austrian dialect.” Valentin closed the distance between them. “You will tell me, Cornelius, right now, what is going on. Or God help me, I’ll write to your father.”

  Cornelius couldn’t stop the gasp of terror that escaped him, or the shiver of pleasure he felt when Johann moved to stand behind him, placing a reassuring hand on Conny’s shoulder.

  Johann glared at Valentin. “I am a sky pirate. I was injured and lost on the shore. No more ship. Cornelius helps me. Keeps away soldiers. He is good lover. Good friend. What friend are you, making him frightened?”

  Cornelius blushed to the roots of his hair, stunned speechless.

  Valentin sneered. “You’re not his lover. And you’re not a pirate. Wearing an eyepatch doesn’t make you a pirate.” He looked up and down his nose at Johann. “I can’t even tell how old you are. You seem to be somewhere between awkward young lug and old man.”

  “I am eighteen,” Johann said.

  Cornelius stared at Johann with
his mouth open. “You’re…eighteen?” Good Lord, he was younger than Cornelius! Conny had thought he was at least in his late twenties. Eighteen—he was barely of age.

  Johann shrugged apologetically. “I am big. Everyone thinks I am older. Has always been.”

  “He’s lying to you, obviously.” Valentin faced Johann down now, righteous indignation at full fury.

  Johann faced him calmly, but without hesitation. “I do not lie to Cornelius. You, maybe. You are—” He frowned, clearly mentally indexing. “Ein Tyrann. A not-friend.”

  Tyrant, it seemed, was a universal word. Cornelius enjoyed the way this wounded and disarmed Valentin, but pity quickly overruled him. “He’s not a tyrant. Not really. He’s overprotective and arrogant, but he’s my oldest friend, and he loves me.” He frowned at Valentin. “Though that was a very low blow, to threaten to go to my father.”

  Valentin’s cheeks stained as he lifted his chin. “I don’t like this man. He’s going to bring you trouble.” He glared again at Johann. “Why did you leave your ship?”

  “Lost ship. I was in fight. Hurt. They left.”

  “And they didn’t come find you?”

  Johann snorted. “Pirates do not.”

  It made sense, Cornelius thought. Except Johann looked oddly angry when he said that, as if he was upset by being left. As if he had been a pirate and had been abandoned.

  Valentin lifted his chin higher. “How did you become a pirate? There aren’t any airships in Austria. It’s a horribly backward country. Because I know you’re Austrian.”

  “Yes, I am from Österreich. A small, simple village in the west, in the mountains. No airships. No food. I went into army at fourteen for stipend to family.”

  Valentin recoiled in horror as Cornelius winced. “You’re an Austrian soldier?”

  “Yes, but I ran away. Become pirate. Better life. Better money for family.”

  He spoke with such conviction, Cornelius almost believed it to be true.

  Valentin clearly did not. “So what did you do as a fourteen-year-old pirate?”

  “Sixteen. I was in the army two years. When I am pirate, I carry things. Cook. Cut people who say no boarding.”

  Valentin’s countenance slipped from irritation to confusion. “Boarding? In an airship?”

  “Yes.” He mimed swinging a rope over his head and tossing it in front of him. “Big rope, hook. I slide.”

  “You threw a rope at a ship held aloft only by gas? You could kill everyone aboard.”

  Johann’s grin was wicked. “If cargo is good, we do.”

  Valentin turned back to Cornelius. “You condone this? You, and your bleeding heart that cannot stand to see so much as a sparrow downed?”

  No, Cornelius didn’t. He bit his lip as he regarded Johann, hoping he was simply that good a liar with an imagination tainted by the horrors of war.

  Johann’s expression gentled. His hand, which had fallen from Cornelius’s shoulder, returned. “I throw with care. I never miss.”

  “This is exactly what I mean.” Valentin gestured between them. “You don’t know anything about him, Cornelius. What is going on?”

  Cornelius didn’t know what to say. He had no truth to bend around, because he still didn’t know why he was so obsessed with Johann, not enough to tell Valentin, not enough to understand it himself. Had Johann actually been a pirate? Why had he not said so before? He kept his gaze away from Valentin, wishing he knew a way out of this conversation.

  “He is a good lover,” Johann said, out of nowhere.

  Cornelius stiffened, and Valentin snorted. “He is. But you don’t look like lovers to me.”

  “Is not good to show love loud.” Johann gestured to the window facing the street. “People are angry. Arrest.”

  Valentin rolled his eyes. “Please. We pay the police regularly. In any event, they’d never dare arrest Conny. Not unless they knew it was part of one of his games.”

  Conny wanted to object to this depiction of his sexual debauchery, or at least Val pointing it out, but Johann spoke first. “People arrest Österreicher. Hate me, like you do.”

  Valentin pursed his lips. “Fine. Kiss him now.”

  Cornelius’s entire body blushed, flashing between cold terror and anticipation. “Valentin.”

  “Stop playing prude. You’re France’s greatest exhibitionist. With enough cocaine and absinthe, you’ve let men fuck you over tables. I’ve watched your public performance enough I can recognize you in an orgy by the dimple in your left ass cheek. You can’t object to a kiss in front of me. He can hardly either, as he did as much that first night.” Valentin looked at Johann and pointed at Cornelius. “Kiss him. Prove you’re lovers.”

  Johann quite noticeably did not blush or shy away. He turned to Cornelius, waiting for permission.

  Cornelius couldn’t give it. He’d worked hard to avoid this. He’d grown fond of Johann as a friend, a companion—true, they had difficulty communicating still, but the man was so easy to be around. Every time Cornelius had to leave him, all he thought about was when he’d be able to see that rough, smiling face. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone, ever, whether or not they’d slept together. Johann was patient and kind, and his smile could undo kinks in Cornelius’s weary soul. Conny swallowed hard and shut his eyes, unable to face the possibility of Johann being so repulsed by having to feign playing lovers once more that he might insist on leaving.

  Soft lips brushed Cornelius’s own and made him open his eyes.

  Johann hovered over Cornelius’s mouth, staring back at him. He didn’t look upset. He didn’t look repulsed. He didn’t exactly look aroused, either. Only concerned.

  That was the crux of the matter, Cornelius realized. He wanted Johann to want him too. Because yes, Cornelius wanted to kiss Johann. More every day. And though Valentin was right, he loved easily and often, there was something different about Johann. He wanted to kiss him, to make love to him, but he would rather have Johann as a friend and companion than a lover. If kissing Johann to pacify Valentin’s paranoia lost Cornelius their friendship, it would shatter him. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t explain how this had happened when he barely knew the man, when he couldn’t even be certain the man actually wanted him that way. He only knew he wanted.

  With Johann’s kiss still burning his lips, Cornelius was ready to admit he very nearly needed.

  Johann ran the gloved fingers of his artificial hand down Cornelius’s cheek. Then, gripping Cornelius firmly by the waist, he bent his head and kissed him.

  Cornelius’s hands drifted, wrapped themselves around Johann’s neck, slid to his face. His heart fluttered at his throat, and desire tangled with the nerves in his belly. He was charmed, disarmed by the realization Johann didn’t know how to kiss. It was more than hesitation over kissing a man. He clearly hadn’t done much kissing of anyone.

  He’s eighteen. Guilt threatened Cornelius, but then Johann’s lips parted and his tongue haltingly grazed Cornelius’s bottom lip.

  Cornelius opened his mouth and invited Johann’s tongue to play.

  He gasped as Johann did just that, and when Cornelius pressed his body against Johann’s and felt the evidence of his arousal, a thrill ran down his spine. True, any man got aroused by the right touch, but it was still Cornelius doing the touching, even if only for pretend, and he yearned enough for Johann that he didn’t care what it took.

  Johann was a bit large in stature, and though that didn’t always excite him, it did in this case. Conny’s imagination helpfully outlined sexual scenarios where Johann’s strength could be an asset. How his clockwork could be made erotic. He forgot to guard himself, and he responded to the kiss as if it were real, as if they truly were lovers. In fact, he was in the process of shifting them to the edge of the table so he could sit on it and open his legs for Johann when a prim knock sounded on the door.

  Jo
hann pulled back, and Cornelius clung to him to steady himself, still lost in the kiss. When Valentin cleared his throat, Cornelius glanced at him blearily, surprised to find him there.

  “Monsieur Stevens?” Louise knocked again. “A letter was delivered for you. Also, Master Félix is upset.”

  Cornelius smoothed a hand nervously over his hair, a vain attempt to bring himself back to earth. “I’ll be right there,” he called weakly to Louise. He glanced at Johann, at Valentin, feeling he should say something, not knowing even remotely what that something should be.

  A shout from downstairs made him give up. Biting his lip, he pushed off the table, knowing he had to see to Félix.

  “You would like help?” Johann asked, calm, concerned—not in any way looking as rattled as Cornelius felt.

  Perhaps he was pretending after all.

  Pursing his lips, Cornelius frowned at Valentin. “Are you convinced? Or will you wait until I come back, so you can watch me suck him off?”

  Valentin glowered. “I want to speak to you this evening. The two of us, alone. Unless you have no more need for our friendship, with your pirate lover.”

  With a sigh, Cornelius kissed Valentin’s cheeks. “You are too dramatic. Where shall I meet you?”

  “At The Alison. I’ll reserve the back room.” He kissed Cornelius back and squeezed his arm. “Thank you.”

  Cornelius started toward the door, pausing when he realized Valentin wasn’t following him. He would harangue Johann as soon as they were alone. Cornelius should stop it. Except he didn’t know how.

  Johann winked. “Go. Is good.”

  Yes, but was it really? Cornelius realized when they two were next alone, they would have to have an awkward conversation. Unless of course Johann was already gone, horrified by Conny’s display or chased off by Val.

  Pressing his hand against his suddenly splitting head, Cornelius stumbled out of the room and into the hall, certain the letter Louise possessed and whatever had Félix up in arms couldn’t be half as bad as anything he was leaving behind.