Jenson moved back towards the window, studying the terrain again. “If the window was open, it would have shaved a second or two off the time to get out, but one of the under-gardeners was out there, he would have spotted Russell either way.”
“You said the window was nearly closed. Not fully closed?”
“No. It sticks on the way down.” To demonstrate, he nudged the window down, and it stuck.
“Hmm, maybe it was open, but the blast knocked it down.”
“Then he wouldn’t have been able to get out.”
“Depends.”
Jenson and Amethyst froze, looking at each other. Then they turned together to Maker. Great-Aunt Flora had sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace.
Maker’s absence of expression was irritating. Then with a sigh, he rolled his eyes. “You’re assuming that Stephen Russell was actually in here when the machine exploded, but what if the machine exploded because he was already gone, and had left it running?”
“I’m not sure what is more surprising,” Great-Aunt Flora said. “That neither of you two thought of that possibility, or that Maker can actually construct a full sentence. And with a sub-clause, no less.”
Chapter 32
For a moment Amethyst just stared at Maker. Great-Aunt Flora’s comment didn’t help. Mostly because they were both right and it wasn’t a possibility she had considered.
She was knocked from her reserve by a tap at the door. It was Barrow, Lord Montgomery’s butler.
“Mr Woodman to see you, Miss.”
Amethyst frowned, she didn’t know a Mr Woodman. But Barrow disappeared, and another man came into the doorway. Jade. She rushed over to him, hugged him and was hugged in return. She moved a little away but caught hold of his hand. She turned at Jenson’s cough.
“This,” she announced, smiling at Jenson and putting her hand on Jade’s upper arm. “This is Jade Forester. My twin.” She was never going to get tired of saying that.
“And this is just a little clingy.” He indicated her hold, which even she had to admit was more of a grab.
“Well, you went and left me for three years, didn’t even know if you were still alive, I get to be clingy for a day or two. It’s in the rules.”
“I could say the same of you, though I trusted you were still breathing.”
He kissed her forehead then moved his hand and arm away from hers to offer a hand to Jenson. “Hello again.”
“Woodman?” Jenson asked.
He shrugged. “Not a million miles away from Forester, when you think about it.”
“Too damn far,” Amethyst announced, and she moved toward the desk again. “You’re a Forester and I don’t care who knows it.”
“Father does.”
“Father’s an idiot.”
Jade opened his mouth to argue, but instead he smiled and ruffled her hair, for which he got a slap to the side. It was a ritual she was glad to have back in her life.
“Have you two already met?” She pointed between Jade and Jenson.
Jade nodded.
“I’ve spoken to Mr Wo- Forester twice now on matters pertaining to Mr Russell’s disappearance.”
“And the second time he acted like he might actually believe me.” Jade laughed, another thing she’d missed.
“And you just gave me reason not to.”
Jenson’s observation was surprisingly cutting. Jade looked confused. “We just proved you lied about your name,” Amethyst said. “So now he’s going to question the veracity of everything else you said.” Somehow, even Jade losing Jenson’s trust felt like she’d lost some part of it too.
Jade nodded, then turned to Jenson. “You do as you see fit, changing my name was not my choice, I was disallowed the original’s further use. Everything else I told you was the truth. Both times.” He took a breath and turned back to his sister. “What were you looking all frowny about when I walked in?”
“The idea that the explosion marking the last day Stephen Russell was seen was actually caused by Stephen’s disappearance at an earlier time. That he left the machine running, and that’s why it exploded.”
Now Jade was mirroring her expression. “You think he was kidnapped?”
She reared. “Well, I didn’t, but…”
She saw the flush along Jade’s cheekbones, the narrowing of his eyes.
“There is no way he would leave his family willingly.”
“Are you sure?” Jenson asked.
“Yes!”
The twin chorus sent a frisson of relief through Amethyst, this connection had been missing for too long. It wasn’t so comfortable to see the way Jenson was now scowling at her.
“You didn’t even know him.”
“No,” she agreed. “But I have deciphered most of his notebooks, translated nearly all of his code. And no man would bother putting the things he did into code if he didn’t mean them, and he said some wonderfully touching, moving things about both Edwina and Felix. The man who wrote those things is not a man who would abandon the people he was writing about. He just wouldn’t.”
“Not even for their own protection?”
The starkness of the question, the way Jenson challenged her view, it was a chilling reminder that he understood so much better than she the darker extremes of life. She looked for reassurance from Jade. His eyes slipped momentarily to the floor, then he recovered.
“I helped Stephen build his machine. Even if he left it running for hours, or the days it would take until the aether cell drained, it wouldn’t just blow up.”
Amethyst pointed to the wreck of the machine which now sat on an occasional table in the far corner of the room. “Explain that then.”
As Jade moved over to the tangled remains, kneeling to get a better look without touching the thing, Amethyst, pulled one of the thin metal strips from the pile beside the DMAC and slid it into place before she switched the machine on. As it warmed up, she turned to the curious knocking behind her. Jenson was sitting on the windowcill, bashing dirt off his shoes and back into the border.
“Done?”
Amethyst and Jenson both turned to Maker.
“I am for now,” Jenson confirmed.
“Companion.”
Amethyst had grown accustomed to Maker’s single-word conversation but even she had no idea what he was talking about now. He pointed to the fireplace before he left. Amethyst looked, a rattle of iron drawing her attention to the companion set, which contained a small brush and pan, for the soil Jenson had dragged in.
“Must have been a mighty draft to rattle that.”
“There wasn’t a draft.”
Amethyst looked at Great-Aunt Flora as Jenson in his black-socked feet fetched the items and cleaned up the small mess he had inadvertently made. If there was no draft, what had moved the companion set?
“No wonder it blew.”
Amethyst turned her attention to Jade, who was on his feet now, and reaching into the remains of the machine. The thing he brought forth was twisted and charred, but it was still recognisable.
“That’s a Tundridge Transmuter.”
“It’s a double loop T20 Tundridge Transmuter.”
“Oh dear.” Great-Aunt Flora sighed as she got to her feet. “Come along, Jenson, these two are about to get so technical it will make your eyeballs melt, let us go and find more civilised society and ask if it’s possible Stephen Russell was gone before the explosion.”
“One moment.” Jenson straightened from tying his shoe. He stepped up to Jade, looked him directly in the eye. “Does that thing affect the potential timing between the machine starting up and the explosion?”
Jade nodded. “Use the right transmuter and there’d be no explosion. With this, it could have been anything…” He paused to calculate. “…from five minutes to twenty-five minutes, but no longer than that.”
“Thank you.” With that, Jenson moved to offer Great-Aunt Flora his arm and lead her out.
“According to what I’ve seen of Stephen’s int
entions with that machine, I reckon he’d only want a T3 at most.”
“Not bad, little sis.” Jade nodded. “A single loop T2, in fact.”
“You’re only a few minutes older than me –”
“But I’m always going to be seven inches taller.”
His smirk was broad and designed for irritation. It had been a dig he’d been getting in ever since he turned thirteen. Though in fairness, up until then, she’d been irritating him with the fact that she’d been taller from birth. What goes around comes around. Besides, she was just too happy to have him back in her life to care about such things.
When they were young and playing together, he taught her about engines, and she taught him about mathematics. And manners. Now the others were gone and suddenly it was too much.
“Hey!”
Jade’s exclamation didn’t stop him from returning her hug when she unexpectedly stepped to him and flung her arms about him, burying her head into his shoulder.
“What’s all this?”
“Missed you.” She found herself choking back tears. “Don’t ever leave me again.”
Strong arms squeezed her tight, then his hands moved to her upper arms and pushed her back. His face was far too serious. “I’ve been disowned, remember. Father won’t allow me back in the family.”
“You’re my twin. I can’t pretend you don’t exist. I want you in my life. And don’t forget, Father hasn’t officially disowned me, but it’s a close-run thing. I live independently now, and I’d love you to come live with me.” Maker wouldn’t object. She hoped. The uncertainty she saw in her brother’s eyes made her feel sick. “If you won’t live with me, promise me you’ll always stay in touch. Write at least?”
Now that slow smiled started; this was ground he was more comfortable with.
“Well, maybe. I am a busy man. A businessman.” He was affecting the air of a rank he did not own. “You can write to me, of course. Often. Every day, in fact. Since you’re just a rich spinster.”
She slapped his arm and they laughed. Though the edge was dulled by the proposal she couldn’t bring herself to tell Jade about.
Chapter 33
The men’s conversation, the cigars Jenson didn’t smoke, it all turned his stomach. A glance to Maker, who was sipping brandy and lounging back in his chair made Jenson wonder at the man. Lord Fotheringham, Fifth Earl of Umbria. Refined, intelligent, sophisticated, reserved. So unlike any of these men. What had happened? Were they how he had been, and they had changed? Or had he? Seemed unlikely in either version. Was Violet choosing Maker’s friends for him now? That seemed more likely. Maker had explained his situation to Jenson, and while Jenson could admire the strength and fortitude that could see Maker through each day, he couldn’t fully comprehend why he’d take no action at all to alter the situation. He sighed and sipped his own brandy. A habit he could become accustomed to, but shouldn’t. Explanations were one thing, but he didn’t know what went on inside Maker’s head, and he certainly didn’t know what went on behind the closed doors of the man’s home. More importantly, it wasn’t his job to judge.
Lovesey’s guffaw drew his attention. Now there was a man he would judge without payment. He remembered some of his mother’s sayings. All men are good from afar. Perhaps he was too close to see it in this one. Who doesn’t have children brings them up best. Lovesey didn’t have children and if his treatment of Felix earlier that day was anything to go by, he never should. The two had clashed, Lovesey and the boy. Only part of it had been Lovesey’s fault. The man didn’t have any experience with children and Felix, being a typical young boy, had found the man’s boundaries and crossed them. The thrashing Lovesey had tried to mete out was beyond reason though. If Blanchard hadn’t stepped in to stop him, Jenson would have. Luckily for Lovesey, Blanchard had also stopped Jenson arresting the odious man. There wasn’t really an applicable charge. It also behove Jenson to remember that he didn’t have any children either, so how good a parent or judge could he be? He had eleven nephews and nieces though, so he had that to go by, and he’s never needed to strike any.
None of which improved Lovesey’s position in Jenson’s eyes any.
At long last, Montgomery declared it was time to re-join the ladies which relieved Jenson immensely. As they headed towards the drawing room, Edwina appeared, and by luck, Jenson being closer, he stepped up and offered an arm to escort her back in. She seemed relieved from having to suffer Lovesey. In the drawing room, Amethyst and Bobbie were sitting together. Neither looking entirely comfortable with something. As others re-joined their partners, Jenson moved over to the two young women, grateful even for their automatic smiles as he offered the remaining seat on the sofa to Edwina.
“You don’t know what it’s like to have and miss a twin.” The patience in Amethyst’s tone was strained. Whatever conversation she was having with Lady Violet, she patently didn’t want to be having it.
“Well you hardly have to tell us about twins,” Violet was saying as she turned to her husband. “Does she, Maker?”
Maker moved over to his wife. “No.”
Jenson frowned and turned to the earl. “Why’s that?”
“I’m a twin.”
That was a surprise. Was the world ready for two of Maker?
“Identical twins,” Violet said. “Closer than non-identical.” That barb was aimed straight at Amethyst.
Amethyst took it and, surprisingly smiled more broadly as she turned to Maker. “Seems we have even more in common than I thought.”
Violet’s face fell and Amethyst shifted in her seat to turn to Edwina, just as Gladstone put in an appearance and jumped onto Amethyst’s lap for cuddles.
Lucky sod.
“How’s Felix?” Bobbie asked.
“A little upset still.”
“That’s understandable, but he’ll be fine.” Amethyst tried to reassure her. “It was just a shock, a fright.”
And a very hard slap on the backside, but Jenson didn’t reveal that, it wouldn’t help.
“I can’t do it.” Edwina whispered and looked across at the fat man where he stood with the other peacocks. “I can’t marry that, not after this.”
Amethyst reached out and took Edwina’s pale hand. It was all the support any of them could offer. Such marital affairs weren’t their business. Not to mention that Amethyst had her own marital affairs to sort out. Thankfully, none of them mentioned that, though Monty was making no secret of his preference, again sitting Amethyst at his side for tonight’s meal.
Edwina clung to the offered hand. “I wish I could talk to Stephen.”
Amethyst tried another smile. “I wish I could too. He might help me make sense of his notebooks. There’s a symbol in there that I just don’t understand, can’t work it out.”
Bobbie gave a small laugh. “Perhaps we should have a séance.”
The urge to roll his eyes gripped Jenson, but he also considered the point. “That might not be such a bad idea.”
Amethyst looked up at him. “Really?”
He shrugged. “The truth is, most if not all mediums are just charlatans. But occasionally one turns up that, while not actually speaking to the dead, has done sufficient research to give something away. And if they happen to be local, then they just might have sources I haven’t or can’t get to.”
The three women looked between themselves. The idea seemed to appeal. At least it didn’t garner any gainsay. Bobbie’s face split in a grin; the woman was really rather attractive, he could understand why her late husband had married her. Shame it had all been over too quickly.
“I’ll see if I can find a local medium then.”
There was a small giggle of agreement.
“And what is that you four speak of so secretly?”
At Lady Garrington-Smythe’s demand, Jenson stepped aside to give the woman a better view of her daughter and to allow freer communication. The move showed him that the whole party were looking in their direction.
“We’re going to ha
ve a séance,” Bobbie declared.
“Well, really?” Lady Garrington-Smythe tutted. “Stuff and nonsense.” She pinned Jenson with a steely eye. “Surely you don’t condone this?”
“I can’t condemn something that might set a mind or two at rest. But I will be on the lookout for any tricks the medium might attempt.”
“Hmm.” Lady Garrington-Smythe was considering. “Setting minds at rest seems a little unlikely when talking to restless spirits, but as long as you seek to protect those in attendance, I can see how it might offer a little amusement at least. I won’t stop you.”
“Thank you, Lady Garrington-Smythe, you’re too kind.” He offered a respectful bow and it seemed the matter was closed for now.
Chapter 34
“It’s a ridiculous idea,” Lovesey huffed and recast the line. “It really shouldn’t be allowed. You’ll have to put a stop to it, Lord Montgomery.”
Maker looked up at the perfect cerulean sky and wished for quiet. He was downstream of the others and standing in the shallows, his boots keeping his feet dry and surprisingly warm. His own line was bobbing in the water on the far side of the river, where the flow languished in the shade and the curve of a bend.
“Put a stop to what?” The day was so calm and peaceful, there was no need for raised voices, especially as that could scare the fish away. Monty was standing several metres upstream, and unlike the fat man, he had waded in thigh deep and now had a fine trout in his net and was in search of another.
“This ridiculous séance nonsense,” Lovesey clarified. “It will only upset my dear Edwina.”
While Maker stood downstream of the others, Sir Giles Chalmers was on the bank as close to Monty as he could get without being in the water.
The line pulled and started away. Maker took the reel handle, gave the fish just a little more slack, but slowed its swim. He pulled back a little, the weight on the end of the line resisted. This was a big one.
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