by Anne Renwick
“The tetrodotoxin from the bullets slowed her down, but Lady Huntley still managed to throw the vessel into autopilot before Thornton could reach her. There was a struggle. You can imagine what that must have been like inside such a small tin can. Thornton managed to grab Lady Huntley’s arm in time to deflect the bullet, though it ricocheted around. It must have made quite some noise.”
It had. A horrible clanging noise that had nearly stopped her heart from beating.
“By then, the submersible had entered the initial portion of the tube, and Thornton reasoned it was better to blast through at high velocity rather than risk getting stuck.” Black had warmed to the story, his arm whipping through the air as if recreating Thornton’s explosive launch into the Thames. “I gather the number of kraken you’d observed was cause for concern?”
She nodded. There’d been so, so many.
“The river patrol is quite pleased, by the way, that another kraken nest has been located and destroyed.” Black paused. “Lady Huntley required a few hours of assisted breathing, but is now, unfortunately, fine. I found her the darkest, dankest cell I could manage. So far, she is refusing to cooperate.”
Amanda hoped she refused to cooperate for years. “Henri?”
“Exactly who he said he was,” Black answered. “Thornton has seen that his mother will be well-cared for.”
“Luca?” she asked. Then followed his gaze to the blanket-covered lump at the far end of the room. “Is it that bad?”
“A matter of perspective, I suppose. No gypsy wants artificial modifications. Gypsy and ton are a lot alike that way. So, from Luca’s viewpoint, his artificial eye is an abomination. From a research standpoint, he’s a miraculous success.”
“And from the Queen’s point of view?”
“There is quite some concern over his status as Romanichal gypsy.” Black sighed. “Since he has declined to enter the Queen’s service, the camera has been disabled. Therefore, only two options remain. He may return the eye.”
Amanda sucked in a breath.
“Exactly,” Black said. “Or he can sign an agreement to take on an entirely new identity, to prevent the technology from falling into enemy hands. No matter his choice, Luca will never be allowed to leave England’s shores.”
“A new identity. He has to go into hiding?” she asked.
Black nodded.
Amanda did not think Luca would agree. Gypsy identity was tightly tied to family. “What does my sister have to say about all this?”
“Despite your father’s many and colorful threats, they are not legally man and wife. The Queen herself has forbidden Lady Emily entry into this facility, and without a legal marriage she will not be offered the opportunity to disappear with Luca.”
Emily must be beside herself with worry. “Not a healthy situation for the baby.”
“I know, but my hands are tied.”
“Take me to him.” She struggled upright, then, looking down with alarm at the thin cotton gown she wore, she pulled the wool blanked about her shoulders, the most modesty she could manage.
Black averted his gaze. “He won’t talk to anyone.”
“He only need listen.” Amanda’s legs shook beneath her as she stood. A bullet wound and a hefty dose of an unknown toxin had left her physically weak, but her mind felt as clear as ever. And she needed something to think about besides Thornton.
The floor was cold beneath her bare feet and a draft blew about her ankles as she walked past the long row of beds. She counted six, wondering if they’d ever all been occupied simultaneously. The whole distance, Black’s steadying hand was at her elbow.
He left her at Luca’s bedside.
The light above his bed was off, casting Luca’s beard-roughened face into shadow as he lay on his side, eyes closed. But there was no hiding the swollen tissue about his new eye. It was purple and yellow and green and looked hideously painful.
“Luca,” she said, lowering herself onto the edge of his bed. “Are you awake?”
“Go away, Amanda,” he said. “Try to help Emily forget me. This agency, whatever it is, will never set me free. Not so long as I wish to have two eyes.”
“Such melodrama, Luca. You’ve a wife with a child on the way.”
“Not in the eyes of the law.”
“Phfft.” She brushed aside his objection. “A special license and a minister can take care of that in a heartbeat. All you need to do is agree to cooperate.” She paused, waiting for a response. None came. Stubborn man; it was time to turn the screws. “Emily needs you, Luca. Your child needs you. Don’t abandon them. Do you know what their lives will be like among the ton without a husband or a father? Don’t abandon my sister when she needs you most.”
His eyes slitted open. One brown and one blue. Apart from the color, no one would guess one was not his own.
She continued. “Emily left behind everything she knew to be with you, gave up her entire life for you. It’s time for you to make your own sacrifice and do what is right. Together, you can begin again.”
His eyes lost some of their distance. “Not as Roma.”
“No. Not for now. But neither will you suffer the disgrace of becoming a peer.” That made his lips twitch. “At least agree to marry her gadjo style. Then you can discuss—together—the value of two eyes.”
A long moment passed.
“Agreed.” She began to stand, but Luca caught her hand. “Thank you, Amanda. For stopping that awful woman. For caring what happened to my people.”
She squeezed his hand. “Anything for my brother-in-law. Take good care of Emily and my niece or nephew.”
“I will.”
~~~
A minister conducted a short ceremony the very next morning at Luca’s bedside. Mr. Black, Father, and Amanda alone stood witness for the agency refused to grant Mother, Ned, or Olivia access.
Not that Mother or Olivia would have attended. News of Emily’s appearance at the house, some six months pregnant and dressed in “gypsy rags” had torn through the ton like wildfire. Likely both women were prostrate with humiliation.
“It’s only for five years,” Amanda said, embracing her sister, losing the fight to hold back the trickle of tears trying to escape her eyes.
Though her mother and sister behaved abysmally, Father had promised much to the Queen so that his son-in-law might walk free with such a valuable device implanted in his thick skull. Heavens only knew what it had cost Father to convince the Queen to agree that Emily and Luca could return in five years when such technology would no longer be cutting edge.
Several minutes later, Emily wiped her own eyes and pulled away, wrapping an arm about her stomach. “I promise, the very next day, I will be on your doorstep with my son or daughter.”
Black stood at the door, his eyes turned upward to study the ceiling as he rocked on his heels, their long goodbye clearly trying his patience. Beside him, Luca beckoned, anxious to leave. Four walls and a roof had never surrounded him for such an extended period of time.
With hope and love shining in her face, Emily walked toward her husband. Seconds later, they were gone.
~~~
Father walked beside her as they exited the building. “I’m told that gypsy weed has begun to bud,” he said. “Lord Thornton anticipates scheduling Ned’s surgery in a few weeks’ time.”
“That’s wonderful.” The expected response, though her words were flat. Thornton had yet to appear. He’d not sent even a simple message in her direction. She felt numb.
“You have proven yourself, Amanda. I was wrong to keep you from medical school. I trust you will assist with Ned’s surgery?” Worry drew his eyebrows together.
A few weeks ago, Father’s request would have puffed her chest with professional pride.
“Of course.” She was a professional. Feelings had no place in the surgical suite. She and Thornton worked well together, and she would let nothing stand in the way of seeing Ned once again walk on two feet without mechanical assistanc
e.
“Good.”
Still, she felt strangely empty. Hollow. For too long her life had revolved around work and now that it was done… She should feel something more, having finally reached the goal she’d set herself some five years ago.
She straightened her shoulders. It was time to let go of the guilt that had driven her research and move forward. It was time to find a new passion, a new problem to solve. There was certainly no dearth of disease and injury about. She would select another research topic, something not involving neurophysiology. Rumor was Professor Rathsburn was encountering difficulty with a cell line designed to speed and promote healing of bone injuries. Perhaps he would consent to let her join his laboratory.
Father sighed. Father never sighed.
“What is it?” Amanda braced herself, waiting for him to name the man he’d chosen for her to marry. After the disaster with Simon, he likely had little confidence in her ability to choose for herself.
“After much thought and consideration,” he began, “I have decided to release you from your obligation to marry.”
“Excuse me?” Her feet stopped moving. Certainly she’d heard wrong.
“Your passion and dedication to medical research impress me. As do your results. I’ve instructed my solicitors to set aside funds to provide you with an allowance. It is enough that you may live alone if you so choose, though I hope you’ll consider remaining at home.”
Her mouth fell open. “I need not marry?”
“That is what I said.” His eyebrows rose. “Of course, if you want to marry…”
“Not at this time,” she said, looking away.
“About Mr. Sommersby. I’m sorry. Sorry to have pushed him on you.” Father admitting culpability. It seemed today was a day for many firsts.
“I chose him,” she conceded. “Shall we agree to bear culpability equally?”
He nodded, then drew a deep breath. “Unfortunately, before Mr. Sommersby was caught in illegal possession of Lister University technology, he lodged a complaint against Lord Thornton.”
“A complaint.” Amanda couldn’t seem to inhale.
“There’s to be an inquiry concerning improper behavior between a student and a professor. Tomorrow. First thing in the morning.”
Right or wrong, the simple fact that she was female meant that, if there was fault to be found, it would land squarely on her shoulders.
Her hand flew to her chest. Was she to be expelled?
Chapter Forty
IT WAS WITH A curious kind of relief that she finally stood before the school’s board of trustees. Her relationship with Thornton had come to light. Hours of worry had paralyzed her, but now, for good or ill, judgment would be passed.
From a wall of the dark paneled room, Joseph Lister stared down at her from his portrait in seeming disapproval. Five more frowning, white-haired, older gentlemen sat behind a long, polished table. No chair was provided for her.
Dressed in a simple dove gray walking dress, her hair pulled back from her face tightly twisted in a chignon, Amanda clasped gloved hands demurely at her waist, waiting for them to pronounce judgment.
Where was Thornton? How could he leave her to stand here alone? She’d been certain he would at last present himself.
She hated to admit it, but she missed him horribly. Missed his arrogant confidence, the sound of his rumbling voice, the smell of his skin, the touch of his hands. She’d been hoping for one last glimpse. A chance to say goodbye.
A mustachioed and bespectacled man cleared his throat. It seemed they were starting without him. Amanda pulled back her shoulders.
“Lady Amanda,” the man began. “A number of damaging accusations have been hurled in your direction suggesting that your relationship with Lord Thornton is of an improper nature, but given that the source of these allegations is untrustworthy at best, further investigation would be required.”
She held her breath. Could it be that she was not to be expelled, that they would simply slap her hands and burn her ears with a warning?
“We are deeply disappointed in you, young lady.”
Several other older gentlemen grumbled.
Though she met his gaze unashamed, Amanda’s stomach soured as hope curdled.
“Prior to your association with Lord Thornton, you were top in your class.” The mustachioed man lifted a pile of papers, tapping them into perfect alignment. “The only reason you will be afforded the opportunity to reclaim your place is because Lord Thornton has resigned his position at Lister University, effectively rendering any relationship between you irrelevant.”
She gasped. He’d done what?
“That is correct, my lady.” He leaned back in his chair. “I suggest you return with all due diligence to your studies and refrain from further intimate contact with anyone who might be perceived to be your superior.” He slid his glasses down his nose, staring at her over their rims. “You may go, Lady Amanda. Quickly, before I change my mind.”
She spun on her heel, exiting the room. Heart racing, she turned corners until she found herself inside Lister Laboratories, striding down its wide hallway. She came to a sudden stop outside Thornton’s office.
Several feet away, the great iron door stood crowing its impenetrability. Her access was, no doubt, revoked. Amanda vowed it would be temporary. First, she had to stop Thornton from making a horrible mistake. She would not be the cause of the end of a great man’s career.
It wasn’t right, and it certainly wasn’t fair.
~~~
Thornton was pulling yet another handful of books from his bookshelf when his office door opened. He spun around in time to watch it slam shut. He’d been expecting Black. The interrogation was to begin soon.
Instead, Amanda leaned backward against his door, looking quite unlike herself. He supposed he’d grown used to seeing her in high fashion. Or in complete disarray. But not like this. Her hair was ruthlessly scraped back from her face and twisted into a severe bun. Nor had he ever expected to see her in a gown with a starched neck so high it was likely to strangle its wearer. And gloves. Long black gloves that stretched beyond her elbow. Her eyes were narrowed and her chest heaved.
He should have known she’d come. He should have locked his door. “Can I help you, Lady Amanda?” He forced the title from his throat, tacitly agreeing to respect the distance her attire—if not her behavior—worked to establish.
“Stop,” she spat. Her chin lifted. “Spare me the manners. No lord this and lady that. How could you let me face the board of trustees all alone?”
His ire rose to meet hers. “We’re not partners, Amanda.” She winced, but didn’t look away. “There is no equality here. Not in the eyes of our larger world. We are—were—professor and student. Primary investigator and research assistant. Man and woman.”
Didn’t it boil down to just that problem? He was a man who could easily force her world to meet his desires. He would not do that. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair. “My attendance was unnecessary.” He struggled to keep all emotion from his voice. “We reached an agreement earlier, my resignation in return for your continued enrollment and an end to the investigation.” He’d accepted all the blame for their indiscreet behavior. He had options; she had none.
His absence was calculated to injure. Intended to sever their connection with one clean blow. Yet here she stood, eyes blazing.
He met Amanda’s incredulous gaze for a long moment, then turned abruptly back toward his bookshelf and resumed packing. “I’ve taken the position your father offered me. Director of a private laboratory.” Far from the inconvenience of incompetent students, his employees all carefully vetted and handpicked by the duke. It was a desk job. He suspected he’d hate every minute of every day. In his new position, he would foster and direct new research projects—the projects of other scientists. Wouldn’t that be a special kind of hell? “In return, the duke has agreed to release you from your agreement. You’re free from all ti
me constraints and may choose to marry—or not—on your own terms.”
“You!” Her voice was incredulous, her stare pained. “You brokered a deal with my father? You did this for… me?”
“Yes.” He jerked his head in a nod. He’d carved out his heart, set aside his own wants and desires. For her. Such brilliance should not be snuffed before it had a chance to burn bright.
“But your work!” She stomped a foot. “Your laboratory!”
He clenched his hands into fists. “What laboratory? I’ve lost every competent assistant.”
“No. You can’t leave.” She shook her head. “You’re a brilliant and famous neurophysiologist. Your research is groundbreaking. Even if the only ones who know it are sworn to secrecy. You can’t just leave.” Her voice cracked. “You can’t sacrifice your career for me.”
“Why not? Who’s to say you’re not the next brilliant mind? That your research won’t save lives?” He dropped a lid on the crate, lifted a hammer, and viciously drove home one nail after another. He’d had his chance; she deserved hers. “Go, Amanda. Become a physician, a surgeon, a research scientist. Marry or don’t. The choice is yours.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her face. Instead, he picked up another nail.
Her next words, softly spoken, brought a whisper of hope. “What if the professor is married to the student? Would that still constitute an improper relationship?”
His hands froze. “No.”
“Too bad you have no interest in acquiring a wife.” Her words curled seductively about him.
He set the hammer down on his desk with extreme care. His mind raced. She was teasing him? Was it possible she wanted him to propose? He took a deep breath and straightened, turning to face her. “What if I said I’d changed my mind? What if I told you that there is one, and only one, woman I could marry? Only one woman that I love?”
“I would understand.” Her eyes glistened. “For there’s only one man I love, only one man I could marry.”
