The balloon rose a bit and hovered, and I stuck my face into the crisp, icy wind, eyes clenched shut, relishing the experience.
“You’re quite a fan of this,” Julian said. Instead of following the other patrons inside, he shifted so we were pressed shoulder to shoulder against the rail, looking down at the dwindling lights of the city below. I moved away, stunned at his forward behavior on an airship crowded with people, but he just moved closer still.
“I love to fly. After I finished my education, I wanted to apprentice with Putnam and Sons Dirigible Company but they refuse to take on women engineering apprentices. So instead, I joined my father’s firm and began working with the automatons.”
“I can imagine that was a decision met with rousing enthusiasm.” Julian wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
I froze, unsure what I was supposed to do. A good, moral woman would have pulled back and protested, slapped his face even for his obscene behavior, but I didn’t think I had much room to protest. I had let him—a man I barely knew—take liberties with me in an alcove earlier, and I’d been alone with him in a carriage.
If anyone found us together, I’d be even more ruined than I already was. Which was a daunting prospect but also a liberating one. If we were caught I’d be shunned by society no matter what, so I might as well enjoy my sins before I was punished for them.
“Most of the men in the shop were against the idea at first. They thought a woman would bring bad luck. But once they realized I knew the difference between a steam powered riveter and the tea kettle, they’ve been more welcoming.”
“Probably because you’re such a talented inventor,” Julian said, and my cheeks heated at his praise. It wasn’t rare for me to receive the attention of men of a scientific persuasion but none of them had the looks, or the brains, Julian Capshaw seemed to possess in spades.
“Everyone whispers all the truly great inventions coming out of your father’s shop are your design. Even Queen Victoria has one of your fairy secretaries flitting along behind her to record all of her thoughts onto ticker tape. “ He paused briefly. “It’s ironic, if you think about it.”
“What is?” I asked sourly, thinking about exactly how Queen Victoria had received her personalized secretary, a gift from me to Leopold for him to give her as a gift last Christmas. Free of charge.
“Well, this ship is supposedly named after the fairy secretary Mr. Putnam used to break into his competitors’ homes and record anything they said in their sleep so he could take advantage of it. That’s how he put Wendell Rentfrow out of business. So, if I understand correctly, he refused to take you on as an apprentice, but he named his most luxurious ship after one of your inventions.”
“If the rumors are to be believed, then he should at least refund the price of our journey in gratitude for my unintentional assistance in his espionage.”
“Why don’t we discuss it with him?” Julian offered his arm. “I imagine he’s inside mingling with the other guests.”
“I’m sure he’ll be too busy to spend time with someone like me. We’ve never even been introduced,” I said, wrapping my arm around his and pushing away from the rail.
He looked down at me, smiling again, before giving me a mocking bow with his free arm spread wide. “Let’s go inside anyway, my Queen, and I’ll waltz you around the ballroom as other men stare jealously on.”
I wet my lips and tried to keep my breathing normal even though my heart was pounding. His eyes were fixed on my mouth and he licked his own lips. He straightened again and stepped even closer than he’d been a moment before, only a hairsbreadth between us.
“We should go inside,” I said quietly.
“Possibly.” He turned, taking my arm more firmly in his, and led me into the ballroom. “Miss Mulvaney.”
I gasped in delight at the breathtaking beauty of the main ballroom. The floors were maple, glowing like the setting sun in the light of a dozen crystal chandeliers hanging above. Floor to ceiling observation glass covered three of the four walls, while an automatonic string quartet played against a deep blue fourth wall that reflected the beauty of the night sky outside. Instead of a ballroom it looked like a part of the night beyond, with dancers twirling underneath crystalline stars.
“There he is.” Julian pointed to a portly man in a blue admiral’s jacket and with muttonchops so substantial, Lord Marley would be green with envy. “Mr. Putnam himself. Let’s go have a word with him. Shall we?”
“I don’t think it’s really necessary.” I tried to pull away from him. It was one thing to jest about speaking with Putnam and quite another to actually do so. Especially if Julian was correct, and he had been using one of my fairies for industrial espionage.
“Nonsense, I’m sure he’ll be pleased to meet you. And whoever refused you admittance to his apprentice program will be searching for a new position after the holiday celebrations have finished.”
Julian pulled me through the crowd, snagging two flutes of champagne by their slender stems and handing me one. He drained his glass in a single gulp during our transit across the floor, then raised the glass over his head and waved it in Mr. Putnam’s direction. “Putnam!”
“Capshaw, old boy,” the man in question said and stepped away from his group to slap Julian on the back. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it. Thought your Father had a to-do tonight for all our social betters and required your presence?”
“He does, and I did attend, but I’ve made my escape. To ensure my welcome, I also captured the Queen of Hearts, herself, along the way.”
“The Queen of Hearts is it? I seem to recall you thought Miss—”
“Putnam,” Julian said hastily, “may I present to you Miss Aida Mulvaney? I believe you’re rather a fan of her work.”
“Aida Mulvaney.” The man looked at me appraisingly. I removed my mask and curtsied in response. “I thought you’d be much less attractive. Bit shorter as well. Seems I was wrong in my assumptions. It’s a pleasure to meet another inventor.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” I took his outstretched hand in my own, shaking it. “I’m a fan of your work as well, even though I am much too tall and unfortunately hindered with a face that doesn’t strike terror into the hearts of men and beasts.”
“I would think that sharp tongue would scare more men than your pretty face,” Putnam said with a smirk. “But I shan’t hold it against you if you’re a fan of my shoddy work.”
“I wouldn’t call it shoddy. We are still airborne and not falling to our death in a fiery and frankly terrifying manner. That is quite an achievement in my opinion.”
Julian laughed and patted my arm with his free hand before taking the glass of champagne from me and draining it. “She does have you there, Putnam.”
“Well, a floating ship is fine, but my engineers aren’t nearly clever enough to think of all the things rattling around in that pretty head of yours.”
Julian snorted with barely concealed mirth. “Oh, I’ll agree your engineers are far less talented, but the loss of Miss Mulvaney’s talent is entirely of your own making.”
I squeezed his arm lightly in warning. There was no reason to cause a scene.
“Did you know Aida is such a fan of dirigible flight she applied to work for you before she started working for her father?” Julian asked.
“She did?” Putnam’s voice was flat, and his lips tightened.
“It’s really nothing,” I said hastily. I could strangle Julian for putting our host on the spot this way. Everyone knew the owners of Putnam and Sons were superstitious about women workers on their dirigibles. Three other dirigible companies did use women engineers and none of them had suffered an accident, but Putnam’s wouldn’t be moved.
“Of course, it is,” Julian said. “I’ve been telling Putnam for years that his company’s refusal to hire women is simply ridiculous. Lady Lovelace herself couldn’t work here, and I don’t think there is any denying her scientific mindset.”
“No, there�
�s not, but perhaps it’s better if we sat down and discussed it over a drink,” Putnam said, motioning first toward the tables scattered around the edges of the dance floor and then to one of the automatonic servants standing nearby.
“I think that would be just the thing,” Julian said as he motioned Putnam forward to clear us a path and led me through the crowd to a tiny table hidden behind the rest in a forgotten corner away from the band.
“I’ve always thought my father’s policy against women engineers was ridiculously old fashioned,” Putnam said when we reached the other side of the room. He then pulled out a chair and motioned for me to sit.
“Your father?” I asked, lifting my skirts slightly and slipping into the chair.
“Aye.” Putnam nodded with a sour look on his face. “Jeremiah Putnam started out in the steamship business plying the waters between the coast and India, even did trade with the Americans when the company first started. My brother Richard and I, we knew dirigibles were where the future lay. We persuaded him to join the market and now Putnam and Sons plies the seas and the sky. Yet, no matter what we try, my father and his outdated beliefs still haven’t truly changed to join the modern era. Something your young Viscount and I have in common.”
“He’s not my young—“
“Single malt whiskey for the gentlemen and champagne for the lady,” the clockwork servant said in a monotone voice and bowed slightly before placing two tumblers and a bottle of whiskey in the center of the table and a flute of champagne in front of me. “Cheers.”
“One of your father’s earlier models,” Putnam said.
“I’m glad to see that you like our work, Mr. Putnam,” I said and took a sip of my champagne.
“Putnam,” the man in question said before pouring each of the men another glass. He looked at my champagne flute and wrinkled his nose. He lifted his hand and motioned to attract the servant’s attention then lifted his glass and pointed to it.
The automaton whirled to life and rolled over to bring us another whiskey glass. Putnam filled the glass and pushed it toward me with a brief nod. “I imagine you’re woman enough to want a real drink rather than that expensive French swill.”
“Right.” I swallowed once and looked at the glass full of amber liquid in front of me. I’d drunk wine and champagne since my debut a few years earlier, and more than once I’d shared a pint of beer with the other engineers in my father’s shop. But whiskey wasn’t something I’d encountered before.
Julian looked at me with a raised eyebrow and reached for the glass. Before he could take it from me, marking me as some weak woman unable to drink with the men, I snatched up the glass and downed the contents.
My throat burned, my eyes watered, and every particle of air in my body fled the advance of whiskey through my system. I coughed and tried to regain my composure in front of the two men. I coughed again and then took a deep breath.
“All right there?” Putnam asked.
“Fine,” I said and then gasped for more air. “Perfectly fine.”
“Went down the wrong tube then did it?”
“Something like that,” I said, my eyes still watering.
Rather than say anything Julian sat back in his chair, sipping at the whiskey Putnam had poured for him earlier. Apparently it went down more smoothly if one sipped it like wine rather than downing it like particularly repugnant ale. It would have been nice if he’d told me that. I narrowed my eyes at him and he smiled, tipping his glass in my direction as I picked up my own champagne glass and took a sip.
“Now, on to more important business,” Putnam said. “How did young Capshaw convince you to be seen in public with him?”
“It’s—”
“Oh really,” Julian said. “It’s not like I’m a leper. Lots of young ladies would be happy to be seen with me.”
“Yes,” Putnam said. “But they’re all ninnies. How did you get this woman—who is decidedly not ninny-like—to have anything to do with you?”
“He kidnapped me,” I said, leaning closer to Putnam like I was imparting a secret. “Stole me out of his father’s ballroom.”
“Him?” Putnam asked, his eyes wide. “You’re saying Julian Capshaw kidnapped you? I don’t believe it.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because I was at Cambridge, and you may be surprised to know that your young man was by far the most straight-laced of all of us. A regular stuffed shirt. Wouldn’t even wager on the automatonic cricket.”
“Oh because you’re much braver. I happen to remember someone losing his trousers to one of the local toughs.”
“That’s different,” Putnam said. “That tormentor was particularly large and very dangerous.”
“Was he really that terrible?” I asked.
“He outweighed me by at least three stone and he may have been carrying a knife.”
“He was the local butcher’s boy,” Julian said.
“He was big for his age.”
“The boy was eleven.”
“Besides, it’s not like I didn’t march straight down to the shop where he was apprenticed and forcefully demand the return of my clothes the very next morning. By the time I was done having my say the butcher was most apologetic for the inconvenience.”
“That’s you, Putnam, my boy.” Julian shook his head and set his empty glass on the table. “Fearsome as a house cat and formidable as a cloud. Meanwhile, the caliber of meat being delivered to our rooming house suddenly became of much poorer quality after that.”
“I am tough.” The other man pounded his fist on the table and then poured each of them another drink. “I am a man to be reckoned with when I’ve made my mind up about something.”
“You are not,” Julian said.
“I am so. When I’ve decided to have my way, I cannot be moved.”
“Then prove it.”
“Is that a challenge?” Putnam looked first at Julian and then at me.
“Gentlemen—” I looked between the two of them, nervous. There was no reason for them to do something foolish to prove their masculinity, no matter how much they’d drunk. Not on an airship full of people who might recognize them, at least.
“It is. Now, have you lost your nerve since we left Cambridge? Become too much of a company man? Or do you still intend to revolutionize the skies, and damn your father’s prejudices?”
“I’m no more my father’s man than you are yours.” Putnam straightened.
“Prove it.” Julian leaned forward on his elbows and smiled.
“Fine. You’re right. It’s time I took charge of this company and damn my father’s silly superstitions. I am the President of Putnam and Sons, and it’s time I bring us completely into the future. At the start of the New Year, Putnam and Sons will take on female apprentices. Miss Mulvaney shall be our first.”
“Actually.” I reached over to pat his hand. “I must decline your generous offer. I’m already a master engineer, and my father has made me head of his lab. But thank you. I’m flattered you would consider me. Even if it is five years after I applied.”
Putnam pursed his lips. “Well, I’m not sure what to do for apprentices. But we will take this forward. Miss Mulvaney, would you consider being an advisor? Help bring talented young women into Putnam and Sons? Young women of a mind like yours?”
“I would be honored to. I shall ask among my acquaintances. All of them have attained mastery in their respective fields, but many do have younger sisters and cousins who are almost of age to begin an apprenticeship.”
“Fine,” Putnam slapped his hands on the table and gave Julian a smug smile. He refilled all three whiskey glasses and handed one to me with a brief nod before lifting his own in a toast. “To the future of Putnam and Sons. We will become a company that shall be infinitely better when we sail the skies with women at the helm.”
I raised my own glass and sipped at the whiskey inside.
“What about you, my young Viscount?” Putnam asked. “What shall you do to move into
the future and away from your father’s coat tails?”
“I have been contemplating that.” Julian took a sip of his own drink. “At first I’d intended to simply wait until spring and then book passage on one of your ocean going ships. I could flout my father’s legacy and seek my fortune where men have broader minds than in this Luddite paradise we call England.”
“But?” Putnam raised an eyebrow at him.
“I would have to wait for spring to get anything more than a crossing to France. Even if I’d manage to make it until then, there’s always the chance that my father would send men to find me and drag me back to marry some sentimental twit and continue on his Luddite line.”
“So?” Putnam asked.
“So now I think a better solution might be available,” Julian said and his lips curled upward into a seductive smile.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Instead of running away to keep from being roped into my father’s anti-progress schemes, I think I shall take an active stance against him. By hurting him in the one place I know he’s weak. “
“How are you going to hurt your father and his cause?” I asked as he looked over at me, his dark eyes twinkling.
“Miss Mulvaney, what would you say if I suggested that we marry and tell my father—and his ideals—to, well excuse me for being blunt but, tell them to go stuff themselves?”
“Excuse me?” Had he gone mad? Marry? I had gotten into his carriage because of the promise of more kissing and a little bit of basically healthy, youthful rebellion. No one had mentioned marriage.
“Marry me, Aida. It is the perfect solution to both of our situations.”
“Hear, hear!” Putnam said.
“The perfect solution to what situation?”
I could think of nothing in my life that required such a desperate solution. Sure, I was facing social embarrassment over my near-miss elopement with Leopold, but I wasn’t really upset to see our promises to each other broken. Besides, if I kept a low profile until after his wedding in June, people would eventually stop talking about it. There would be another scandal, and London society would forget all about me.
A Riveting Affair (Entangled Ever After) Page 12
