Rebel Mechanics

by Shanna Swendson

  IN WHICH AN ERRAND TAKES A DANGEROUS TURN

  The next afternoon was too rainy for walking in the park. Henry, Rollo, Olive, and I were playing a game and Flora was practicing the piano when Mr. Chastain came to the door of the family parlor. “Lord Henry, there is a gentleman here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”

  Henry blanched. “Did he say what it was regarding?”

  “No, sir, just that it was essential, and he needed to speak to you privately.”

  “I’ll be down in a moment.” Henry’s hands shook as he straightened his tie and shoved his glasses back up on his nose before standing.

  He’d only been gone for a few minutes before Mr. Chastain returned. “Miss Newton, you’re needed as well.”

  I stood and smoothed my skirts, feeling I must have gone as pale as Lord Henry had. Had they discovered the source of the rebels’ intelligence or the identity of Liberty Jones? Lord Henry and another man both rose as I entered the formal parlor downstairs. “Miss Newton, this is Detective Vincent of the city police department,” Henry said. “Detective Vincent, Miss Newton, my governess.”

  “Good day, miss,” the detective grunted, then he gestured for me to sit next to Henry on the sofa. “I have a few questions for you. These are just a formality, but I have to follow all the angles, you know.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I clutched my skirt so I wouldn’t give in to the impulse to reach for Henry’s hand.

  “Now, I understand Lord Henry was with you yesterday afternoon?”

  This visit wasn’t about me after all, I realized, going weak with relief. I tensed again with the thought that the detective was likely investigating the bandits. I’d worried what I should do with my knowledge about Henry, but now that a police officer was interviewing me, I had no doubt. “Yes, sir, he was. We took the children for a picnic in the park,” I said, trying to sound as though the matter was inconsequential to me.

  “Do you know what time it was?”

  I gave a little laugh that I hoped sounded casual. “Oh my, I’m really not sure. I have to pay such close attention to time on school days that I completely forget about it on weekends. I do recall that the large airship—the Hercules, I believe it’s called—was traveling past, because Rollo—Lord Roland—was fascinated with it. He would talk of nothing else.”

  “I see.” The detective made a note in his notebook. He didn’t ask which direction the airship was going when we were on our picnic, and I decided not to clarify that for him. I hoped my instincts about Henry were correct and that I wasn’t abetting some horrible crime. The detective snapped his notebook shut and stood. “That should take care of matters for now, my lord,” he said. “You will notify us if you think of anything else?”

  “Yes, of course I will.” Lord Henry rose to walk him to the door, where he handed him over to Mr. Chastain to see him out.

  When the detective was gone and the door firmly shut behind him, Henry sagged against the wall. “That was unnerving,” he said.

  “What was that about?” I asked, fearing the answer but not expecting the truth.

  “One of my friends was arrested after a robbery yesterday. There were others with him who got away, and the police are talking to all of his known associates.”

  “How awful!” I said. “Had you any idea he was involved in criminal activities?”

  His lips twitched. “I had a few suspicions.”

  “Well, it’s most fortunate that you were with us yesterday. And if my word wasn’t good enough for the detective, there are dozens of other people who saw you in the park.”

  I wished I could see his eyes behind his glasses, but he stood at just the wrong angle, with the light from the chandelier creating a glare on the lenses. “Yes, that is very fortunate,” he agreed. “Imagine if I’d come home and gone straight to my study while you were out, and you weren’t able to vouch for my whereabouts. I might not have been able to persuade him of my innocence.”

  For a moment, I considered telling him I knew about him so he wouldn’t have to lie to me anymore. I allowed myself to imagine what might happen between us if we shared that enormous a secret, and then I remembered that it couldn’t really change anything. Falling for my employer was even more foolish than believing a rebel’s lies. I was through behaving like the heroine of a novel.

  * * *

  The Hercules may have left, but the airships from Governor’s Island maintained a steady patrol over the city during the following week. That meant getting Rollo’s attention was a challenge. I handed him directly over to the headmaster each morning to ensure that he went into the school instead of sneaking away to watch the ships. He probably spent the school day staring out the window, but that wasn’t my problem.

  Henry was unusually social during that time. He hardly ever locked himself away in his study, and he dropped by the schoolroom several times a day. He never left the house without taking one of the children with him, and he still flinched and went pale whenever the front bell rang. Even Olive seemed to notice his tension, though that didn’t stop her from demanding he play with her or read stories to her. I occasionally heard piano music coming from the schoolroom or the family parlor that was louder and more robust than Flora’s delicate touch, and I recalled what Henry had said about playing when he needed to think. I wondered what he was thinking about.

  Flora, though, seemed entirely oblivious to either the military activity or her uncle’s strange behavior. The official invitation to the ball arrived Monday, and Henry had immediately written to accept. Flora and her lady’s maid spent hours each day adding ribbon trim to the hem and flounces of her ball gown.

  My initial hurt and anger about Alec’s lies had eased, and now I felt his loss keenly. I hadn’t realized how much I’d enjoyed having friends. I took my usual walks in the park, but I saw no one I knew. That convinced me that they’d lied about having come to care about me. As soon as I was no longer an asset, they’d dropped me entirely and were making no effort to mend fences.

  My ball gown was ready for a fitting on Thursday. I saw to it that the girls were occupied with their music and drawing lessons before collecting my hat, coat, and gloves. When I stepped out of my room, I nearly ran into Lord Henry, who was lurking outside my door.

  “I must ask another favor of you,” he said, his voice fraught with tension. “I wouldn’t impose upon you again if this weren’t so very important and if I could think of any other way.”

  “Do you wish me to deliver another parcel?” I asked, nodding toward the one he held.

  “If you would be so kind. It goes to the same place, with the same stipulations.”

  “It’s no bother at all,” I said, taking the parcel from him.

  He then handed me a banknote. “Buy something for yourself while you’re there.”

  I tried to give it back to him. “That’s not necessary. I am only too happy to do a favor. You’ve been so kind to me.”

  “This isn’t payment for the service. It’s a reason for you to be there. If anyone asks why you were in that shop, you’ll need something to show for it. You can look like you were selling and buying books.”

  Even though I was fairly certain of the truth—and that his answer would be a falsehood—I asked him, “Are you in trouble?”

  “These are dangerous times and it is better to take precautions,” he said evasively. Coming so close to being caught seemed to have frightened him into being more careful.

  I nodded as I took the money from him and deposited it in my purse. He went with me down to the street, where a cab waited. As I rode downtown, I wished I knew a magic spell for looking inside a parcel. Seeing his fear and knowing that one of his associates had been arrested worried me. What would become of me if I were caught with this parcel?

  As the cab neared Union Square, I noticed something in the sky. At first, I thought it was one of the airships that had been patrolling the city, but when I reached my destination and alighted,
I got a better look and realized this must be the ship bringing the soldiers from India who had experience with insurrections.

  This was a smaller ship, but it looked crueler. The Hercules was meant for carrying passengers and cargo, but this was a fighting vessel. I doubted it would be leaving, and I doubted that even his grandfather’s influence would get Rollo a tour of this ship. The front, rear, and underside of its gondola bristled with weapons, and the balloon itself had great jagged scimitars protruding from it.

  The ship was moored to the tallest building on the university campus. Soldiers swarmed down rope ladders onto the building’s roof. It was difficult to see how many there were from nearly ten blocks away, but I didn’t have time to go closer. With a sigh of regret, I entered the modiste’s shop.

  The ball gown was nearly complete, wanting only the finishing touches. Once I had removed my dress, Madame Flambeau tightened my corset before putting the gown on me. “For a ball, you want the tiny waist, no?” she said, and I was so lost in thought about the warship moored only blocks away that I didn’t even argue with her about the corset lacing, as uncomfortable as it was.

  When she threw the dress over my head, I momentarily forgot about the airship and impending revolution. “Oh, I’ve never worn anything so beautiful,” I said. The image in the looking glass was that of a stranger. I wished I could turn and admire the way the dress moved, but Madame Flambeau was busy making little tucks and sticking pins in the dress.

  “You’ve got a lovely figure, and in my gown you’ll catch an officer’s eye, that’s for sure,” she said. “You won’t be a governess for long.”

  “I will be at the ball as a chaperone,” I reminded her. “I won’t be trying to catch an officer’s eye.”

  “Aye, but you’ll be one of the few ladies present they’ll be allowed to touch. With all those magister girls around, there won’t be many ladies who aren’t forbidden.”

  “And that is why I imagine I will be very busy with my chaperoning duties at the ball.”

  She laughed. “Not if I know Lady Flora. She won’t notice those who aren’t magisters. Chaperoning her is the easiest job in the city.”

  I wished she would hurry and finish the fitting because I needed to carry out Lord Henry’s errand as soon as possible. With all those soldiers in the area, getting to the bookstore unnoticed might be more difficult. I was in such a rush to get out that I forgot to loosen my corset again before dressing, so hurrying down the sidewalk left me short of breath. I leaned against the wall to recover, then moved more sedately toward the barricades.

  The British barrier was still in place, but there was more activity in the streets in the rebel area than there had been during my last visit. Mechanics ran past in small groups, pausing at each corner to look around before running ahead. A shrill whistle made me jump, and I turned to see the smaller steam engine that had pulled the hayride at the picnic coming down the street, pulling a cart filled with men rather than hay.

  The rebels were all heading toward Greenwich Square, where the airship was still unloading soldiers. I doubted they were going to give the new arrivals a friendly welcome. Fighting could start at any moment. I knew Lord Henry would understand if I couldn’t carry out his errand. He had even instructed me not to put myself in danger, but it shouldn’t take too long and I was several blocks from where the fighting would be. I didn’t want him to think me a coward, and I wanted to prove to myself that I was still committed to the cause. Clutching the parcel tighter, I hurried on to the bookshop.

  The windows of the bookshop were even more papered over than before. In addition to all the political posters, there were several advertising a theatrical extravaganza the night of the ball at an address I recognized as the Mechanics’ theater. I suspected it was a diversion to occupy the soldiers. If the officers were at the ball and many of the soldiers were at the theater, it would be the ideal time for the rebels to raid British facilities.

  The door of the bookshop opened before I had a chance to ring the bell. The same man was there, as were several others. I recognized one of them from among the Mechanics who’d been at Battery Park. He wore their strange garb mixing work clothes and formal wear—a brocade waistcoat over a red flannel union suit and striped trousers tucked into tall boots. He had a pair of goggles pushed up onto his forehead and a squashed top hat with a giant gem in the middle of the hatband resting on the back of his head.

  As soon as I was inside, the yellow-haired man snatched the parcel away from me. “We were wondering if we’d ever see this,” he muttered. “It’s been days. Were there difficulties?”

  “I told you before, I’m just a courier,” I said stiffly. “And now, if you don’t mind, I would like to purchase some books.”

  “Purchase some books?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “This is a bookshop, is it not?”

  “She needs to buy something to have an excuse for having been here,” the Mechanic said wearily, like he was accustomed to the yellow-haired man being obtuse.

  “What sort of book?” the proprietor asked.

  “I don’t suppose you have any new paperback novels? I prefer adventure or detective stories. A romance will do in a pinch.”

  He went to a shelf and brought out a stack of books. “You can look through these and choose which ones you want.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take them all. Please wrap them up for me.” I handed him the banknote Henry had given me. While he counted my change, there was a loud crash outside the store. The Mechanic rushed to the window to peer out through a slit between posters.

  “What’s happening?” I asked.

  “The fighting may have started. I’d better check before you go out there, miss.” He pulled the goggles over his eyes, straightened his hat, then opened the door ever so slightly and slid out sideways.

  The bookseller took his time wrapping the books in brown paper, whistling tunelessly between his teeth while he wound the package with twine and tied it off neatly. There was more noise outside, with some bursts of gunfire and at least one explosion. “It’s about time,” the bookseller muttered as he handed over my books. “Will there be anything else today, miss?”

  “This should cover my reading needs for some time, though that might not be a problem if I’m trapped here.” I attempted a smile. “I suppose if you have to be trapped someplace when a revolution breaks out, a bookstore isn’t a bad place to be.” He didn’t return my smile.

  The Mechanic returned a moment later, shutting and locking the door behind him. “There’s fighting over by the square,” he reported.

  “Then I should go before the fighting spreads,” I said, unsure if my racing heart was due to panic or excitement.

  He shook his head. “No, miss, I won’t have you going out into that.”

  I put my hand on my hip. “Then what do you propose I do? I can’t stay here forever.”

  He grinned at me. “Don’t you worry about that, miss. There’s a good reason they call us the Rebel Mechanics. We’ve got far more than steam engines up our sleeves.”

  IN WHICH I AM REUNITED WITH AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE

  The bookseller glared at the Mechanic. “You can’t show her that! It’s our biggest secret!”

  “Well, unless you plan to adopt her, she has to get out of here somehow, and she can’t go by the streets.”

  “You’ll take precautions?” the bookseller asked.

  “Do I look like an idiot? Besides, she’s one of us. I’ve seen her before.”

  With a deep, groaning sigh, the bookseller took a key out of the cash register drawer. He gestured for us to follow as he led us to the back of the shop. There, he unlocked a door and held it open for us. It led to a steep staircase going down into a basement. The staircase was unlit, so whatever lay at its foot remained a mystery. “Down you go,” the bookseller said.

  “After you, miss,” the Mechanic said to me. He took my parcel so I could hold up my skirts with one hand and keep the other hand on
the rail. The closer I got to the bottom, the darker it was. The Mechanic came behind me.

  When he reached the bottom, he handed my parcel back to me, then he untied the kerchief from his neck and said, “Apologies, miss, but we do have to be careful.” He wrapped the kerchief over my eyes and tied it at the back of my head. “This isn’t too tight, is it?” he asked, his voice gentle.

  “No. It’s merely disconcerting.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll have it off you in a minute.”

  Even with the blindfold, I could tell when he lit a lantern. I wasn’t sure how he carried it because he took my parcel from me and tucked my hand into his elbow so he could guide me. He was a considerate guide, warning me when there was a step up or down and steering me around obstacles.

  I tried to track each turn and how far we walked between turns, but I was soon hopelessly confused. I had a sneaking suspicion that he led me in circles a time or two to throw me off. Wherever he was taking me, it must have been a great secret.

  At last, we entered what I presumed from the sound of our footsteps to be a large chamber. My guide removed my blindfold, and I saw that what I’d taken for an ornament in his top hat was the lens of a lantern. I thought that was remarkable, but then I noticed my surroundings.

  I was in a first-class railway station waiting room—or, rather, what one might look like deep underground. There were rows of high-backed benches made of ornately carved dark wood upholstered with red velvet. Brass chandeliers dangled from a rough stone ceiling, and travertine tiles lay underfoot. The walls were paneled in dark wood to just above head height, with rough stone above that.