“Did I pack too much?” Amethyst worried as she stepped from the carriage, hand on the brim of her new top hat to ensure it didn’t get crushed in the door.
“No, Miss,” said Dickens, her own lady’s maid, passing a wicker cat basket to her mistress. “All those trunks are owned by Lady Fotheringham.”
Amethyst looked enquiringly at the maid as she offered a hand to help Flora from the carriage. “Saw them when you visited Blanchard yestereve, did you?”
Dickens blushed rosy; the maid might think she was being discrete, but both households were well aware of the growing attachment between Dickens and Blanchard, Maker’s valet. “Yes, Miss.”
“Well, you should go and offer your assistance to Miss Denby.” The fact that Blanchard was also beside the other woman had nothing to do with Dickens’ eagerness to obey.
Great-Aunt Flora was shaking out her bustle and adjusting her grip on her walking cane. Watching that grip closely, Amethyst smiled to see it was the old woman’s walking hold, no immediate danger of a cane strike. There were no guarantees though, grips could change in a flash of grey fury. Comfortable in her own gown again, Flora looked up at the gathering which clearly wasn’t going anywhere just yet.
“See, silly idea to be here for nine in the morning. We should have waited another hour, they haven’t even loaded the baggage yet.” Then Flora turned a hard eye on Amethyst. “Well, deary, it was your invitation, you should lead the way and introduce me.”
Just to be on the safe side, Amethyst moved the cat basket between her and Great-Aunt Flora increasing the safety margin. As she stepped forward, Amethyst knew that the formality was more in the way of training for her than any need Great-Aunt Flora felt for the introductions.
Moving towards the closest guest, Amethyst offered and received a greeting smile.
“Lady Davenport.”
“Miss Forester.”
Amethyst turned slightly to indicate her relation as they were joined. “You remember my Great-Aunt Flora, of course.”
“Of course.” Bobbie offered a small bow. “Once met, never forgotten.”
“I like to leave an impression.” Great-Aunt Flora smiled.
“Then I’m sorry to tell you, the bruising has faded already.” On her last visit, Bobbie had earned a whack across the shin for insolence.
“You know,” Flora said, “you’ll never get a man if you keep dressing like one.”
“I don’t want a man.”
“Where’s your chaperone?”
“As a widow, I don’t need one. I would happily have chaperoned Amethyst, in fact.”
“Like I’d trust my dearest niece to anyone else.”
This banter had become their preferred style of interaction. It was pleasant and warm-hearted. Familial almost.
Bobbie offered a small laugh. “I’m sure, Great-Aunt Flora, you’re more than capable of beating them off with a stick.”
“Proven,” Amethyst added.
Bobbie looked at her. “Oh, intriguing, who’s been showing an interest?”
“No one, but when Mr Sanderson came to escort me to Wales, there was an encounter.”
Flora rolled her shoulders, and Amethyst became wary of a cane sting. “T’was just a tap.”
“He left with a limp!”
“I barely touched him.”
Bobbie’s attention shifted over Amethyst’s shoulder. Amethyst turned to see Lady Garrington-Smythe was moving towards them. She also noted Lady Garrington-Smythe’s eyes widen as she focused on Flora.
“Mother, may I introduce ‒”
“Lady Sinclair MacGregor Gordon!”
Great-Aunt Flora huffed. “Genie, that’s far too big a name for me. Lady Gordon if you must, Flora by preference.”
“You two are acquainted?” Amethyst fell back on stating the obvious, surprise overcoming what little consideration she had for social niceties. “I was unaware.”
Now Lady Garrington-Smythe concentrated on her. “So, when you mentioned your Great-Aunt Flora, this is the lady of whom you were speaking?”
“Indeed.”
The smile on Lady Garrington-Smythe’s face broadened. “Of course. I’m going to enjoy this fortnight much more than I expected.”
“I do hope that’s not a reflection on my hosting skills,” said Lord Montgomery lightly as he joined the group.
Amethyst’s stomach did strange things. And it had nothing to do with Maker arriving close beside his friend, or the plaintiff little mewl from the basket.
“No indeed, but Flora does so add a distinct piquancy to any event.”
At Lord Montgomery’s flicker of a frown, Lady Garrington-Smythe smiled graciously, and made the official introductions. “Flora and I became fast friends when she came to London with her first husband, Lord Henry Sinclair.”
“Eugenie was a most delightful companion in the dark days after I lost my poor Henry. She fair lifted my heart, such a spirited young miss. Until that terror Garrington-Smythe came along.”
“Terror?” Surprise tightened Bobbie’s voice, hearing her father so spoken of.
“The only one I couldn’t beat off with a stick.”
“The surest sign that he was the one for me.” Lady Garrington-Smythe smiled at personal memories that momentarily overtook her. “I trust you’ll bruise as many shins in Amethyst’s defence as you did in mine.”
So many questions hung in the air, picking one to start with was impossible.
“What is it you have there, my dear?” Lady Garrington-Smythe diverted attention to the wicker basket in Amethyst’s hand.
“Ah, yes.” Amethyst raised the basket up for all to see the animal inside. A black cat, or at least a kitten on the verge of maturity, with her back half in bandages. “This is Gladstone, a friend brought her to me. She’d been run over. I fixed her up, but she needs a lot of love and attention during this delicate recovery period. I can’t leave her, so I hope you don’t mind my bringing her?” She looked at Lord Montgomery.
“Anything to ensure your presence, my d - ear!”
Lady Garrington-Smythe strangled off what might have been a laugh as the tiny black-clad Flora glared up at the cane-struck lord.
“Well,” Bobbie said with a small cough. “Your airship is very… big.”
“Hmm,” Flora muttered. “He’s compensating.”
Amethyst’s weren’t the only eyes that went wide. Lips had to be compressed, laughs coughed away.
“Shall we step aboard, Flora?” Lady Garrington-Smythe asked.
As the two older ladies moved away, Amethyst closed her eyes and bowed her head, not thinking as her hat fell away. Thankfully it didn’t hit the ground, being deftly caught. By Maker.
He offered it back and she reached for it. Through the millinery barrier between them, the frisson of his touch shivered through her as she looked up at his expressionless face. Those emerald eyes spoke to her in ways no one and nothing else ever could.
“Thank you.”
“So ‒”
Amethyst’s blood ran cold at the sound of Violet Maker’s voice.
“‒ you couldn’t leave a sick animal at home?”
Amethyst wanted to remark that Maker hadn’t left his sick animal at home either, but that would be a very unfortunate manner in which to start a fortnight away together.
“It’s hardly going to get in the way,” said Lord Montgomery, taking the basket from Amethyst and passing it over to one of the crew.
“Oh, we can’t put her in the hold.” Amethyst stepped forward and returned the hat to her head.
“Put the cat in the gallery lounge, please,” Montgomery told the man.
Tilting her head and holding her hat this time, she thanked Monty, then looked to the airship. “So, why a Davy-Adams Blue Sky, two prop private liner?”
“You know about airships?” Monty seemed pleased to hear it as he offered her his arm and steered them all towards the waiting craft.
“My brother was always fascinated with airships, he wo
uld fill the house with them if he had been allowed. Though my parents weren’t exactly thrilled with that notion and curtailed his expansion, so his room was always crammed with images and plans; books on aetheric engines; scale models; working, or more often not working parts; anything he could get his hands on. He was always talking about airships, he’d spend hours looking at them in the docking parks. There was nothing he loved more than to tinker with engines and try to get parts working again. He always wanted to be an engineer.”
“And is he?”
That question dulled Amethyst’s enthusiasm for the discussion some. Thoughts of Jade were always coloured with unshareable sadness. Only one phrase about him was permitted but saying it left an unpalatable sourness in her mouth. “Shall we board?”
The basket hung beneath the balloon. Stepping onto it, Amethyst saw that the richest specification options had been selected for this craft. Nothing but the best here.
“Oh, this is just beautiful.” She ran her hand along the polished oak of the exterior rail around the narrow promenade. “This really is the top of the range.” Now she focused on Monty. “This craft is designed for twenty day-passengers. It seems a little excessive for seven of us.”
“Six guests and myself in the party, but sixteen with servants. And there is the luggage to consider. Two weeks away from home is not the lightest way to travel, so not really excessive at all.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
“He always does.”
The softness of Violet’s tone surprised Amethyst, so unlike the usual bile. She glanced at Maker, but his face conveyed nothing and they moved into the gallery room.
Chapter 5
Maker allowed Violet to precede him. It was safest. It kept her happy and gave him the relief of being out of her sight. This time, it also allowed him to monitor what happened ahead, how attentive Monty was to Amethyst, how she responded.
As they sorted themselves out in the lounge area, his jaw tightened at the pleasure and welcome he read in Amethyst’s response. He’d seen this before. He internally moaned as they settled into the gallery lounge. Ever the charming gentleman, Monty had turned many a young girl’s head and robbed them of their maidenhood. And Amethyst seemed to be being charmed; despite Flora’s scowling. A clunk and a bump surprised many of them.
“It’s just the landing gear being brought up for flight,” Amethyst assured Flora.
“I didn’t realise we were about to take off,” Flora adjusted herself in the seat.
“The gear is brought up once we’re at an altitude of 30 feet. We took off a short while ago,” Amethyst said. “These Davy-Adams models are noted for their ease of take-off. They’re the only ground-docking airships with the gentle start of a pylon entry ship.”
“Let’s hope landing is just as smooth.”
“I’m sure it will be, Lady Gordon,” Monty said, from his place far too close to Amethyst.
“Monty,” Maker said, standing abruptly. “Engine.”
For a moment, Monty frowned, then smiled. “Of course,” He stood. “I did promise you a tour. The Captain said we could head down once we were ready. He’s primed one of the engineers to show us the workings.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Amethyst said, also standing. “May I join you?”
“No.” Flora’s sharp pronouncement drew everyone’s attention. The cane had pinned the edge of Amethyst’s skirts.
“But Great-Aunt Flora, I’d really love to view the engines, and it’s not every day I’ll get the opportunity.”
“You aren’t going anywhere alone with those two. Not without a chaperone. And I don’t want to see any smelly old engine.”
“Aetheric engines don’t smell that bad and this ship model is only about 18 months old, so still young.”
“You are –”
“How about I chaperone?” Bobbie offered, standing. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the engines.”
Flora looked at Bobbie. “Hmm. You’re a better proposition.”
The tone proved that Flora was a way short of believing that, but the cane moved deliberately off the hem of Amethyst’s gown. She instantly stepped out of Great-Aunt Flora’s reach as she thanked both women.
Monty passed each of them the goggles so necessary at altitude. As they donned the eye-protectors, Maker realised this achieved the exact opposite of what he’d intended. Rather than keeping the pair apart, he’d just thrown them together. He would have to make sure that he and Bobbie stayed between the two as much as possible.
“This way.” Monty stepped out.
“Ladies first,” Maker prompted.
He had not intended to insult Amethyst with the statement, but she stepped back and let Bobbie precede her all the same.
“Technicality,” Bobbie said under her breath.
At least it put Bobbie between Monty and Amethyst, which was a definite bonus. As they headed aft, Maker watched Amethyst’s small hand run along the rail, her fingers dancing, tapping her eagerness to see the engines of this marvellous flying machine. As she stepped forward, her face turned to him and she offered such a warm, wide, bright smile, his heart flipped. Even behind the coloured glass of the goggles, her eyes were aglow, lit up with excitement. To check where she was going, she had to turn away almost immediately, but that smile, her excitement and exuberance were things he longed for in his life. He had to convince himself that that smile wasn’t only for him, that she wouldn’t have stopped smiling just because he couldn’t see the smile.
They reached the engine room, the chill of the whipping winds was gone here, the warmth of the engine an opposing force. The engine noise was louder than he’d expected, but Monty managed to make himself heard to say they should keep their goggles on while they were inside.
Monty introduced them to the chief engineer, another green uniform, though in a boiler suit this time to match the working conditions. The man bore the kind of gritted smile that suggested the last thing he wanted in his engine room was what he thought of as a bunch of brainless toffs. Amethyst stepped eagerly forward, and the engineer tensed at her first question about the level of noise.
“It’s the diesel engine for the aether scrubbers, so we can refine additional fuel from the altitudes.”
“Surely you can’t reap as quickly as you use though?”
The engineer looked impressed despite himself. “No, Miss, but it does allow us to extend the range of the ship, and reduces our fuel costs…”
As the conversation continued, the engineer became more animated as he realised Amethyst was absolutely absorbed by the discussion, and he unclenched enough to actually start smiling as they pointed at various bits of the mechanism and talked what was, to Maker, mechanical gibberish.
“I’m going to have to study mechanics to keep up with this one,” Monty almost shouted in Maker’s ear over the noise and they stood back and watched the conversation. Bobbie had joined them and the three were utterly engrossed.
Watching the group, Maker asked Monty why.
“She’s pretty, intelligent, eligible. I need a wife.”
Maker’s teeth ground together.
Chapter 6
They disembarked on to the wide verdant lawn behind Montgomery’s sprawling… well, Amethyst thought it looked more like a fort than a castle, possibly a prison. Battlements topped the solid grey stone of the square building as rigid and forbidding as any military installation. More chimneys adorned the roof than could be counted. The window size decreased with each floor, and every single one seemed to glare imperiously down at her.
She smiled and took the offered arm as Monty escorted her in. She reined him back; his long legs would easily outstrip Great-Aunt Flora’s pace, and suddenly Amethyst didn’t want to be without her chaperone.
Inside, the place seemed oddly cramped despite the high ceiling and generous proportions. All the wood and dark colours, the weapons, the various stag heads and horns, the large portraits of imposing relatives - none of whom looked overly happy. Monty
escorted her directly to her room, earning a scowl from Great-Aunt Flora, and how he escaped the sting of the cane was anyone’s guess.
Finally, when he’d left, Flora said her piece before going to her own room, then at long last, Amethyst sat down to just breathe. Dickens had been fussing around her since seven that morning, making her rise and break her fast. Dressing took too long and getting her hair done had actually become a pain in the neck. Though that, she supposed, might have had something to do with a poor night’s sleep and a cricked neck. Ridding her mind of the dream conjured images of Maker seemed impossible. When she’d seen him, all those images had threatened to take her breath away, then she’d turned to him as they walked down the promenade of the airship and nearly lost her balance at the twitch of his lips. By God, he had nearly smiled at her!
She didn’t have time to think about what would happen if he actually did smile, and she sat up at the knock on her door, calling her visitor to enter.
Dickens stepped into the room, her grey uniform neat, not a hair out of place. Amethyst often envied Dickens her poise, but the one thing she understood about being a lady was never to say such things to a servant. Dickens carried Gladstone in her basket.
Amethyst smiled and held out her hands, into which Dickens put the basket. The basket went to the bed, then she unhooked the door, cooing to the cat and pulling the bundle of fluff and bandages out of its confinement.
“How was she during the flight?”
“A little frightened, but she behaved herself.”
“And Mrs Denby?”
Dickens struggled to control her smile but quickly gave up the attempt. “A little frightened, but she behaved herself.” Dickens moved over to the dressing table where a full dressing set had been laid out ready for the guest’s use. “No expense spared.”
“He’s a generous man.”
“He can afford to be. He’s rich.”
“Dickens!” said Amethyst. Though she laughed too much to be as disciplinarian as she probably should be.
“Yes, Miss, but tea will be served in the sitting room in fifteen minutes. Let’s smarten you up before you go down.”
Echoes of Aether Page 3
