Fields of Air: A steampunk adventure novel (Magnificent Devices Book 10)

by Shelley Adina

  Cautiously, she separated her eyelashes and squinted up. White walls, a white ceiling punctuated by beams of pine. Crisp white sheets. White bandages against her pale skin. Clean skin. When had she been bathed? And by whom?

  “Alice?” said a voice she had thought never to hear again. “Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

  She turned her head and winced as a headache that had been lying quietly at the back of her skull pounced into the front of it and began to chew. “Ian?”

  Her hand was clasped in his warm one, and he pulled a wooden chair closer to the cot on which she lay.

  “Thank God,” he whispered, pressing her fingers to his lips. “I didn’t know until this moment whether you would—” He choked.

  Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt thick. “Water.”

  He slipped a hand behind her head and she drank from a mug—cool, wet, and tasting of gravel, but unbelievably good despite that.

  “Where am I? England?” She tongued a droplet from the corner of her mouth, loath to let any of it escape.

  “The Ranger hospital at the old fort in Santa Fe.” Alice sucked in a breath of alarm and Ian’s tired face—when had he last slept?—clouded with anxiety. “What is it, dear? You mustn’t exert yourself. You’ve had a very narrow escape.”

  “Ranger hospital?”

  “Jake tells me this is the only place in this part of the territory where there are doctors skilled enough to repair the damage done by that bullet.”

  “Must get out.”

  “You must lie still.”

  “No—no—can’t be here.” She tried to lift her head from the pillow and roll out of bed, but the pain in her shoulder slapped her nearly insensible. All she managed to accomplish was a groan.

  Ian looked at someone coming in. “Jake, she says she can’t be here. What is going on? We can’t have her so agitated—she will open the wound again.”

  Her gaze found her navigator, and something in his eyes, in his lack of concern, told her that he knew what the problem was and had already taken steps to solve it.

  “Don’t worry, Captain,” he said to her in a low voice. “When we brought you in, I told them your name was Lady Alice Hollys. It wasn’t a lie—or it won’t be soon. Close enough for me.”

  A long breath went out of her and she relaxed a little upon the pillow. “Good. Pay raise.”

  “It’s the reason you’ve got such nice digs and the doctors have been falling over themselves to patch you up,” Jake confided. “And now that his lordship is here, it all looks as it should.”

  “I’m not a lordship,” Ian managed, looking as though he wanted to laugh—or hit something. “Merely a baronet.”

  “Texicans don’t know the difference.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Alice Chalmers, you understand, had a hand in wrecking, consorting with criminals, and springing a convicted felon from prison. Then she escaped. Wouldn’t want her name getting out.”

  Ian stared at him. “So there really is some danger of her being arrested here?”

  Jake looked a little uncomfortable. “Some. It’s been five years, so not a lot, but some.”

  “Great Caesar’s ghost. What felon?”

  “Mr. Malvern.”

  Ian’s mouth dropped open. “I see there are depths to my fiancée’s past to which I have not been privy. I look forward to hearing these tales on our journey back to England.”

  England? She couldn’t even manage to roll over, never mind cross a room—or an ocean. As crazed with pain as she’d been for the past eternity, it was a wonder that she hadn’t accidentally revealed her identity long before now.

  “Alaia,” she said to Jake.

  “As soon as they let you up, Captain. I sent Benny with a message first thing. He says she’s feeding him much better than I do. Ingrate.”

  “What’s this?” Ian wanted to know.

  “Friend. Healer. But—Gloria? Evan?”

  The color faded from Jake’s face even as he did his best to sound reassuring. Anxiety congealed in a pool in her empty stomach. “Not sure, exactly. I thought Gloria was aboard Swan, but with trying to lift in the middle of a battle I didn’t check until we were halfway here.” He swallowed. “She wasn’t aboard, but—”

  Alice made an inarticulate sound and struggled to push back the blankets.

  “Dearest, compose yourself,” Ian exclaimed.

  “Evan was fighting. We must—go back for—” Pain stabbed her and took her breath, and she collapsed on the pillow once more. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Jake!”

  “I’m sorry, Captain.” If her own sight had not been so blurred, she might have thought there were tears in his eyes, too. “We thought you were going to die—and that Gloria was aboard—after carrying you across that hellish valley over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, all I could think of was finding help. It was the shortest flight of my life—and the longest.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

  Poor Jake. It must be such a struggle to always appear in control, to always be the man when he had never been a child.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered. She lifted her free hand and took his. “We’ll go back for them—as planned. Lorraine took a shine to Evan. He’ll be fine, and he’ll look out for Gloria.”

  Neither of them stated the obvious—that if she had left the safety of the ship, there was no telling if either one was even alive. Oh, my friends. The pain in her heart was almost worse than the one in her shoulder, and in her head.

  Ian tipped the glass of water to her mouth once more, his face grim.

  “The sooner we get her out of here, the better,” Jake said to him in a low tone, turning to practicalities to cover his lapse into emotion. “Before someone recognizes her—the Rangers’ command post is just across the square.”

  But the doctor, while he was delighted to make the acquaintance of such an august personage as Captain Sir Ian Hollys, Baronet, would not be moved on this point. “When she can sit up on her own, she can be moved to the home of your friends, your lordship, but until that time, I must insist that she remain in my care. It is not often that I am called upon to minister to ladies of quality. Usually my bullet wounds are Rangers and brawling aeronauts from the airfield outside town.”

  “We were set upon by air pirates,” Jake offered in an accent that reminded Alice vaguely of Ian’s, but suited him far less. “We’re grateful for your care of her ladyship.”

  “And I am honored to be of service,” the doctor said with a smile. “We cannot have Her Majesty thinking we are inhospitable to her subjects. And now you must let Lady Hollys rest. Your visit is most welcome, I am sure, but I do not wish her recovery to be impeded by fatigue.”

  It was the first time anyone had called her Lady Hollys, and for a dazed moment Alice thought the doctor meant Ian’s mother. She had a feeling that pretending to be someone she was not—yet—might be more difficult than healing from the bullet.

  But that was a fret much less important than the imminent one staring her in the face—literally, for the hospital room’s window looked out toward the Ranger command post across a broad parade square of hard-packed reddish dirt. How long did she have before someone in authority came up with the notion of paying his respects to Captain Hollys’s injured wife?

  And if she did not get out of here soon, how long would Gloria and Evan survive in Resolution?

  CHAPTER 16

  When Alice next woke, she found her wits to be functioning better, and while her shoulder still hurt like the devil, she did not practically lose consciousness every time she moved. And the headache was gone. She reached for the mug of water on the rickety table next to the bed and drank thirstily.

  Honey, and the taste of sun-warmed grass. A familiar flavor she had known since childhood. Blinking, she focused on the figure by the window. “Alaia?”

  The Navapai woman turned from her contemplation of the parade ground with a smile. She was dressed, not like a Texican, but in the clothes of h
er village—a white long-sleeved tunic with a one-shoulder garment over it made of a brightly patterned blanket she’d woven herself. Her hair was wound up in two high buns on either side of a center part, and finely worked silver earrings hung from her ears. Her boots were soft, pale leather, and wide silver bracelets enclosed her wrists.

  “Alice, my friend, well met.”

  “You’re well. I’m shot up.”

  “You will heal. The doctor knows his bones, and I know the flesh. Between us, we will see you well again.”

  “Where is Ian? And Jake? And how is Benny?”

  “Benny and Jake are well. They are with me. The other—” Her long lashes fell, then rose to meet Alice’s anxious gaze. “He has gone to make his bows to the Rangers. I do not think that wise.”

  Alice’s breath went out of her. “What has he done that for?” It was the very opposite of what he should have done, which was to listen to Jake and lie low.

  “Men of authority band together and speak of great things, while women work over fire and field.” Alaia dimpled. “Without us, they would have no strength for greatness.”

  “But he knows that it’s dangerous,” Alice whispered. “He knows I could be recognized—and tossed in gaol.”

  “Perhaps he believes that if great men band together, their protection will extend to you.”

  “Or they’ll have me arrested.”

  “Do you trust this man, this Ian?”

  “Of course.” She gulped again from the mug of liquid. “I am going to marry him, Alaia.”

  “Then he will protect you, and you must trust him to do so.” She bent to kiss Alice’s forehead. “Rest now. Here is more of my healing draught. You must drink one cup every hour.”

  “I will. Look after Benny. Don’t let those boys of yours get hold of him.”

  Alaia’s deep brown eyes sparkled with delight. “My boys are men now, and have made me a grandmother. Their days of running around are over—now they must provide for their children.”

  Alice gazed up at her with affection. They’d known each other since Alice was a girl, for Alaia had been a friend of Nellie Benton’s—though how they had met was a story Alice had never heard. But the Navapai woman had offered them shelter five years ago when they’d been in dire straits, with no questions asked. This grassy golden drink had brought Claire around then, too.

  “I wish you’d been my grandmother,” she said suddenly. “Those children are lucky.”

  “It is not luck, it is family,” Alaia said softly. “You will begin yours some day, and be a woman your children and grandchildren will praise.”

  Alice had to chuckle at that. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s taken me a couple of months to get used to the idea of being a wife. I never thought—” He would be interested in me. He would think me worthy of him. But he does. And I am. What a gift it was to know that. Silently, Alice marveled at how her thinking had changed course since she’d left Hollys Park after Christmas. Primarily because Gloria could not keep her opinions to herself. Thank goodness.

  Gloria …

  She must get well, and soon, and go back for Gloria and Evan. Maybe as soon as tomorrow.

  “He is a noble man?”

  Alice brought herself back to present company with an effort. “He is. Good, loyal, capable. He flies airships, like me.”

  “And he is very handsome.”

  “That too.” Alice felt her cheeks heat up as Alaia’s face dimpled with merriment at her embarrassment. “And if you say one word about handsome children, I’ll throw this drink at you.”

  “That would be a waste, and one does not need to state the obvious. I will return later, dear friend.”

  When she had gone, moving gracefully and with the confidence of one who knew her place in the realms of man and nature, Alice drained the mug and slowly, painfully, made her way over to the heavy glazed thunder mug behind its curtain.

  Yesterday it had been impossible to contemplate getting out of bed. Now it was impossible to imagine walking out of this room and through the door at the end of the ward. But at least she could put her feet on the cold flagstone floor and walk four steps, and though it hurt, she could survive it.

  That was progress.

  She had barely made it back to bed and covered her bruised self—spectacular bruises they were, too, like purple sunsets splotched all over her legs and body—when the door opened and Ian came in.

  He was not alone. A man wearing a lieutenant’s bars on the sleeves of his blue wool uniform and the gold eagles of the Texas Rangers on his collar points came in behind him. Alice pulled her blankets modestly up to her chin, as she imagined a fine lady might.

  Ian bent to kiss her on the forehead. “My dear, this is Lieutenant Bautista, who is in charge of a detachment of Ranger airships based here. Lieutenant, my—wife, Lady Hollys.”

  Alice offered her right hand, and rather than turning it over and kissing it in the European manner, he shook it gently. “Lady Hollys, it is my pleasure. I trust Doctor Acosta has given satisfaction?”

  “Indeed,” she said weakly. “I have every confidence that I will be able to use my arm again.”

  He eyed her with interest. “I hear by your accent that you are not English. Do you hail from this side of the sea?”

  And here she’d thought she’d given a pretty good approximation of the way Claire and Ian spoke. She probably sounded as unconvincing as Jake. “Philadelphia.” Perhaps that would explain it.

  “Ah. Do you know the Philadelphia Hadleys? My wife is a cousin and would be delighted to know of the connection.”

  “N-no.” Lying about Philadelphia was a sandpit she’d just as soon avoid. “But I have met Mrs. Rose Hadley, briefly, in—in a large company. She would not remember.”

  “I am certain that is not true. It would be difficult to forget a lady as fair as yourself.” He bowed gallantly. “My wife will be delighted. Perhaps when you are better, you and his lordship will honor us with your presence at dinner, and you might give Mrs. Bautista some news of home and family.”

  “We would be very happy to accept under ordinary circumstances, but I am afraid that as soon as Lady Hollys is well enough, we must cast off for England,” Ian said with the smooth courtesy that came from generations of good breeding. “I am most anxious to continue her recovery in the safety and quiet of our own home.”

  “I do not blame you.” The lieutenant looked disappointed. “But … I hope this does not mean that you do not feel safe here in Santa Fe? I can assure you that the Rangers’ presence here is the heaviest in the territory. We are in no danger.”

  A short silence fell, before Alice cleared her throat delicately.

  “I have heard rumblings that the Royal Kingdom of Spain and the Californias is preparing for war,” Ian said as though there had been no prompting at all. “In fact, perhaps we might adjourn to your office to discuss the matter.”

  “War?” If Bautista had been the sort to wear a monocle, it would have fallen out in his astonishment. “Where on earth have you heard this? We are on the best of terms with our neighbors to the west, despite their reluctance to adopt modern means of transportation and industry.”

  Alice struggled to a sitting position, and Ian bent to plump the pillow behind her shoulders. “I have it from the Californio ambassador to the Fifteen Colonies himself, whom I met at Mrs. Rose Hadley’s home during a ball,” Alice said, neglecting to include the fact that it had been Gloria, not she, who had done the meeting. “He has spent a fortune in gold to arm his supporters with fighting automatons, mechanical horses, and contraptions that can charge a cavalry at speed, with no injury.” Rapidly, she told him what she knew, omitting the part about Resolution. Under no circumstances could that name come into the conversation.

  When she finished, the lieutenant’s ruddy complexion had become even more suffused in his agitation. “I cannot believe it,” he said. “It is impossible. We have ships patrolling the borders regularly, and have seen no such massing o
f weaponry and arms.”

  “Have they seen trains?” Alice persisted. Somehow, after what they had been through, it had never occurred to her that persons in authority in her own Texican Territory wouldn’t believe her. “For the cargo cars drawn by the train I saw in Philadelphia were unusually large, no doubt to conceal the machines inside.”

  “One cannot tell how large they might be from the air,” Bautista said. “The trains come and go all through that country, and have for decades.”

  “And, apparently, the Californios have a civilian militia, taught the arts of war from boyhood,” Ian put in.

  “Arts are one thing. Boys another. But knowing one’s way around a trigger comes from actual experience on the field, and the Californios do not have that.” He sounded on firmer ground here, as though he was quite convinced of his facts.

  “Can you be quite certain?” Ian inquired. “I might drill the men on my estate to my heart’s content, with no one the wiser. Are these nobles not possessed of large holdings in the hundreds of thousands of acres?”

  “I—we—from all accounts, that is so. But of course our ships cannot cross into the foreign fields of air for surveillance, and there are few indeed other than at the highest levels of government who have actually visited.”

  “Then it is impossible to obtain that intelligence unless one goes afoot,” Ian conceded. “Do the Territories have spies capable of such reconnaissance?”

  “Certainly not!” The lieutenant tucked in his chin in affront. “We do not employ spies. It is underhanded. Despicable.”

  Alice exchanged a glance with Ian. Now would not be the time to inform him of the splendid use to which Her Majesty put the brave men of the Walsingham Office. After her escape from imprisonment by one such man, Captain Barnaby Hayes, Gloria had become quite spirited in her recounting of his efforts to capture her father, with Alice and Claire and the others listening raptly.

  Quite spirited.

  “I beg that you would look into these rumors by any means in your possession,” Alice said earnestly. “The Ambassador himself explained to me the late Viceroy’s insatiable need for gold, and I observed the Ambassador’s personal resolution to see his plans through at any cost, even if it means invasion.”