Evie's Gift
Page 3
"Please, feel free to come closer and examine them." Lord Weatherly's face suffused with pleasure as he made the invitation. Angelica ran around one huge mechanical as Jeffrey leaned close to examine another.
Alec watched Evie.
Her face fairly shining with curiosity, dark eyes fastened on the mechanicals, she scampered down the steps to the courtyard. Alec followed her, more amused than scandalized by her temerity. Her brother had the same excited look on his face and didn't seem surprised when she stepped to his side, peering up at the mechanical on the far left.
"Bipedal design seems so unstable," Evie said.
"But look at the stabilizers, Evie," Jeffrey countered her. "They're independent to compensate."
"At least there seems to be a balanced load from front to back, but what sort of kick back would happen when the missiles launch?" Oblivious to Lady Weatherly's glower and Lord Weatherly's chuckle, she continued to examine the machine of war. Her little companion sprung out of watch form and ran up her arm to perch on her shoulder, adding little clicks and chirps to her commentary.
Alec didn't bother to hide his grin this time, finding her more entertaining than the machines. He almost choked when she peered into the onboard camera, placed low on the mechanical, just at the juncture between the "legs".
"This one even has a cockpit!" Alec had been so engrossed in watching the Evie’s enthusiasm, he'd lost track of Angelica. Apparently, so had all of the adults.
The little girl perched on the back of one of the mechanicals, precariously balanced with her skirt rucked up to her knees as she craned her neck to get a better look at the inner part of the big machine.
"Angelica!" Lady Weatherly snapped the child's name in horror.
Evie’s little clockwork companion scampered up the side of the huge mechanical, catching hold of the girl's skirt and anchoring it to the lip of the hatch as it peered inside with her. Toby released the fabric when Jeffrey climbed up and carefully handed her down to Lord Weatherly. She crossed her slender arms and pouted.
"We are going directly upstairs to have a discussion." Lady Weatherly fumed, her lips pressed in a tight line.
No one dared speak. Alec cleared his throat, but didn't know what to say without adding to the child's humiliation.
Instead, little Toby returned to his mistress' side, whistling a touch of steam. Stepping past Angelica to the mechanical, Evie took a firm handhold and hoisted herself up the side to Angelica's previous perch, every bit as nimble as the little girl. "The cockpit has a sleek design, Lord Weatherly. Compact, efficient. But it seems to have limited leg room. I'd imagine your intended pilot would be shorter than the usual serviceman."
Lady Weatherly's tirade redirected, the woman peered up at Evie in sputtering indignation. With her skirts rucked up, revealing her shapely ankles, Evie bent to continue her evaluation. She stood with her back straight, probably completely aware of her unladylike behavior.
Alec grinned in spite of himself. A contrary spark, trapped in corset and yards of fabric, Evangeline Dunn must have made rebellion an art form back in the Americas.
Lord Weatherly cleared his throat. "Indeed, you are correct, Miss Dunn. The cockpit is limited in size and the intended pilot would have to be several inches shorter than the usual serviceman. For ease of movement inside the cramped space, he would need be of slight build as well."
Evie smiled down at Lord Weatherly, a bright and clear expression, both engaging and touched with mischief. "A short, slight man or a particularly mechanically inclined woman."
"Evie!" Jeffrey Dunn matched Lady Weatherly's horrified tone of earlier to the exact volume and pitch. "Absolutely not. This is bad enough! Get down from there this minute. Captain Corwin must be completely insulted by your behavior."
"Now, now, don't drag me into this." Alec held up his hands, and all of them looked in his direction. He spoke to Angelica in particular, though he wanted his words to carry to Evie. "Far be it from me to discourage the fancies of a female. It's refreshing to find any lady with an interest in things other than flowers, painting, and needlework."
His words won him a smile from Angelica, but Evie descended the mechanical with a blank expression.
"Lady's fancy, Captain Corwin?" Evie's inquiry cut despite the polite tone. "Mechanicals and their engineering are serious topics of study and design. While I thank you for your willingness to indulge in our interest, I hardly appreciate my passion for my father's work being referred to as fancy." She took a steadying breath as Toby sat on her shoulder, little eyes whirling red, emitting a grinding noise. "Obviously it has been a very long day. I think I'll retire for the evening before causing anyone further embarrassment."
She gathered her skirts carefully, held her back straight, and chin high as she took her leave.
Angelica looked around at the gathered adults and smoothed her own skirts. "I think I should be going to bed, too."
Chapter 3
"Captain Corwin, we are delighted you've decided to attend our little soiree despite last night's dinner antics."
Alec nodded to Lady Weatherly. "Of course. Lord Weatherly has been a longtime friend and supporter of the military. Dinner last night was most definitely entertaining."
"Entertaining is the kindest way to refer to it," she murmured.
Deciding that saying the least would be wisest, Alec looked around the ballroom for the contrary muse haunting his thoughts over the last twenty-four hours. A veritable sea of swishing skirts filled the dance floor. The glittering sight belied the claim the event was in any way little.
"Really, Captain Corwin, you are so young to have acquired such an esteemed rank," his hostess gushed, her mood having changed to something more festive. "I have several nieces eager to ask you how it was you came to your post."
Several nieces. He might be obliged to dance for the majority of the night. He suppressed a groan. If his mother hadn't upset herself to the point of fainting at the thought of him remaining a bachelor, he would never have let her extract the promise from him that he would choose a wife this season.
"Captain Corwin is possessed of a strong drive and astute judge of character," another gentleman was saying. "I hear tell he is a natural born leader, able to assess each man under his command and allocate tasks accordingly. He challenges his men, leads them to success in the name of Her Majesty's service, and they follow him with unswerving loyalty because of it."
He said something appropriately humble in response to the bolus of information, declining to add to the building momentum. He spotted Jeffrey Dunn speaking with animated gestures to several other young gentlemen. Scanning the dance floor, he searched for the sister.
After the incident on the airship and her display of undoubtedly impressive intelligence the night before, he was determined to find out what Evangeline worked so hard to hide. No simple girl, whether she be American or English, could ever be so fascinating.
He opened and closed his fist absently, trying to dismiss the memory of her trim waist, warm under his palm. He'd itched to touch her again throughout dinner the night before, even if he hadn't admitted it then.
Lord Weatherly hadn't missed his interest in the young American. "What do you think of Mister Jeffrey Dunn, Corwin? A most definitely enterprising young man with a sharp business sense and a healthy dose of charm, despite being American."
His hostess huffed and added her own bit. "Though Mister Dunn is visiting London in pursuit of expanding business interests, he has made it positively blatant that he is looking for a suitable husband for his sister." She sniffed. "Really, the way he parades her about, mentioning the generous dowry he is providing, he might as well put her on auction."
"Now, now." Lord Weatherly moved to the girl's defense. "She's a lovely young woman, quite of an age to find a suitable match and very charming."
"I cannot imagine why you would want me to sponsor such a girl." Lady Weatherly dropped her voice to a theatrical whisper, still loud enough to be overheard by those st
anding nearby. "She is an utterly awful example for Angelica. Your granddaughter needs to be surrounded by ladies of better character."
"On the contrary," Lord Weatherly countered, "I believe the young lady has her father's character. Angelica could have no better companion."
As they continued to debate, Alec kept one part of his mind on the topic of Evangeline Dunn while he concentrated on finding her. As the music came to a pause between dances, he finally saw her sitting in one of the delicate chairs set in a line against the wall. It came as no surprise she had been a wallflower for the evening
And that tiny mechanical of hers, a brilliant piece of work, betrayed every emotion as if one couldn't see it in her very expressive face. At the moment, the little mechanical had taken the form of a fairly ornate set of gears placed as an ornament in her elegantly pinned hair. During the flight, Alec found it quite amusing to watch the mechanical express the depth of feeling the young lady obviously possessed. It left him in no doubt she had an impressive temper when it sat up on her shoulder, its little eyes gleaming red as it emitted a tiny whistle of steam. Try as she might to gain control of her expression, the little mechanical projected the measure of her mood.
"It is obvious that the girl will never adopt the appropriate graces of a proper wife." His hostess concluded. "She would be far more trouble for any proper English gentleman than even her tempting dowry is worth."
He felt a twinge of sympathy for the spirit he had seen in Evie as she sat trapped on the side of the room. To be honest, and he would keep the opinion to himself, he would much rather see her spark allowed freedom than be smothered under all of the propriety his countrymen held in such high regard. Unfortunately, if she needed to attract an appropriate match, she would have to conform.
On impulse, he began to make his way across the room, his innate curiosity driving him to seek out Miss Evangeline Dunn and find out just how she noticed the submarine before any of his airship instruments had registered the enemy's proximity. Beyond the discovery of the enemy submersible, his gunnery sergeant had reported in private that the depth charges had not been programmed to release the way they did. She must have had something to do with the altered settings, she and her little mechanical. Those theories gave him more than enough of a reason to seek her out.
And he would prefer to concentrate on the logical reasons for seeking out her company.
Evie rolled her shoulders against the ache of sitting up straight for so long, which proved harder when she tried to do it in an unobtrusive fashion. After all, a proper English lady could sit gracefully with perfect posture throughout the day. Of course, most of the other young ladies hadn't been sitting all night long. Every other girl had been invited for at least one dance.
A few gentlemen had approached, but seemed discomfited when she turned to look directly into their faces. Their eyes would slide sideways and they would change course. She idly played with the pretty silver case holding her dance cards, looking at her reflection in the mirrored surface. Perhaps direct eye contact was a little brash. She hadn't heard any such thing about English etiquette, but she supposed men preferred a girl more bashful or coy.
In a few minutes, she’d abandon her seat and go study the Christmas tree on the far side of the ballroom. Standing tall and resplendent in traditional decoration, the candles remained unlit until midnight. It was her first Christmas tree, and she wanted to get a closer look.
"Oh dear." A very pretty young lady paused, flanked by three similarly attractive girls, in gowns of lace confection. "You really should speak to your sponsor."
"I beg your pardon?" Evie wasn't quite sure what was meant by that, but the other girl's concerned toned had a false ring to it. After all, she had no official sponsor yet and it would be common knowledge, even if not mentioned directly.
"Well, your dress." The girl looked to each of her friends, exaggerated distress beaming from her widened eyes. "I wouldn't normally say so, but with you Americans, one must be so forward. If you will be spending a season in London, you should try much harder, dear. Your dress looks as if it was made last season. "
Which it had. Her cheeks heated even though she shouldn't rise to the bait. She'd brought several lovely gowns from home, all finely tailored. Unfortunately, Jeffrey hadn't let her wear a single one, insisting on purchasing one or two ready to wear in the shops available in town. Until they made it to London, she wouldn't have access to the latest fashions.
"Miss Dunn, I hoped you would give me the favor of a dance." Evie had her mouth open to give an unwise retort to the girl when that familiar voice sent a tiny thrill through her chest. Captain Corwin stood just a few feet away, pausing to give the gaggle of girls a slight nod and the barest of acknowledgements. "Ladies."
She forced a small smile and nod, gathering up her skirts to rise and take his proffered hand. As insufferable as he had been on the airship and dinner the night before, there was worse company, including these girls. At the moment, Captain Corwin truly represented the lesser of evils.
As they stepped to the dance floor, the music segued into a waltz. Evie loved to dance. As a child she’d dreamed of waltzing with some dashing suitor as he lavished romantic compliments and witty jokes on her.
And the room met every expectation of her childhood fantasies, filled with the rich sound of the full orchestra as couples began to circle the dance floor in a dazzling display of gilded finery. Above them all, a bronze and crystal chandelier threw prisms of light across the dance floor, a wonder of intricate mechanical wizardry.
As Captain Corwin led her to the dance floor, he walked with a measured step, his arm supporting her gloved hand at precisely the correct angle. She wondered if her first dance in high society would be a stilted military maneuver.
"My lady?" He gave her an expectant look, one eyebrow arched high.
She placed her free hand on his shoulder, feeling hard muscle under the fabric of his jacket. As she lifted her gaze to his, he clasped her other hand in a firmer grasp and took hold of her waist. Between one moment and the next, he drew her into the whirling couples on the dance floor, moving as fluidly as a seal playing in the surf.
Evie followed his strong lead, helplessly caught by the intensity of his ice blue eyes and swept up in the surety of his hold. Her heart picked up pace as they circled. She laughed breathlessly when he led her into turns and reverse turns, cross steps and brief dips. They moved together with a fluid grace straight out of her dreams. All the while, she was hyper aware of his body, more so when he took advantage of a turn to pull her closer.
"You're enjoying yourself." He delivered his smug statement as a fact rather than a question.
Jolted back to reality, Evie’s cheeks burned with her annoyance. At least, she thought it was. In her hair, Toby chirruped a disgruntled reply even though he remained in ornament form. She wouldn't give Corwin the satisfaction of knowing he was right. "Perhaps."
"You're smiling for the first time tonight." He led her into another twirl, only to recapture her at the perfect moment and sweep her back into the gliding arcs of the waltz.
"I was admiring the chandelier." Evie decided to dissemble a bit to cover her confused emotions. She looked up at the unique fixture, constructed of huge cogs and gears turning in and around each other in time with the music.
His hand was firm in the curve of her lower back, demanding that she step within the parameters of his movements. "Do you love feats of engineering so much?"
"I do." And he should know so, after she’d made her passion for mechanics clear the night before. Her father had always brought home papers on the latest mechanical designs and engineering advancements. He had discussed them with her, explaining the workings of the mechanicals supporting society.
Inexplicably, Corwin smiled at her forthright tone. "I admire your conviction."
He seemed pleased, maybe even amused. Her attitude had turned away other young men in the past, even affronted them.
She ventured another comment
, testing his tolerance. "The ice sculpture, on the other hand, is abominable."
He cleared his throat, his eyes crossing for a moment as he choked on a sudden laugh. "The ice sculpture is a favorite of Lady Weatherly's. She orders one from the same artisan for every ball."
"Mmm." She didn't expand on her opinion of the horrid likeness of a prominent political figure. She wouldn’t have recognized him if her hostess hadn’t spoken of it earlier in the evening.
After a moment, he spun her out and caught her against him again. Leaning close to one side, he murmured, "I do, however, agree with your assessment."
She should have giggled or made some other polite noise. Instead, she laughed outright.
The orchestra brought the waltz to an end with a drawn out call from a single cello, the mellow note hanging in the air. She was even more flustered as he dipped her low, his lips brushing against her cheek in a seemingly accidental touch. Toby chittered a few harmonizing notes and dropped a lock of her hair.
The captain set her back on her feet. "May I escort you to the refreshment table, Miss Dunn?"
"A drink would be welcome." She tucked the errant lock up, but couldn't get it in place.
"May I?" Suddenly, he loomed even closer. He hooked her dark hair on one finger and gently handed it up to Toby, where the little mechanical secured it back into her coif. Toby, the little traitor, chirped a bright thank you. "You have an interesting companion."
He led her through the shifting crowd of revelers to the refreshment table with a light touch on her elbow.
"I'm glad you find my Toby of interest, Captain." She didn't know why she stiffened, why she cared he found Toby so fascinating.
"Oh, I don't know." His mouth quirked upward at one corner. He handed her a cool flute of iced champagne. "I would say the two of you are a pair."