by L. C. Mawson
“My job is to create,” Ruth reminded him. “Yours is to figure out how to sell the creations. If I try to think about profitability, it will clutter my thoughts.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Now you sound like an artist. A poor one at that.”
“Then it’s a good thing that we have no fear of starving, isn’t it?”
9
“Yes, these will do nicely,” Ruth said as she inspected the materials Ivy had collected for her. “Here, I have compiled another list of things I need.”
Ivy gave an exasperated sigh, though she clamped her hand over her mouth just a moment later, as if shocked at her own impertinence.
“Sorry, Ruth,” she squeaked. “I just... Why don’t you come with me? Get some fresh air.”
“Now you sound like Thomas,” Ruth said as she folded her arms.
“Well, I mean... Maybe he has a point? You never leave the house unless he’s dragging you to a ball.”
“He and I have calculated every event I need to attend to appear sociable. Balls have more people of high standing attending than any other event, so attending them allows me more time between outings.”
“You really hate leaving the house that much?”
“Yes,” Ruth said, as if it was a completely obvious sentiment.
Ivy sighed. “I just... I... I don’t mean to complain, but you’re sending me out to pick up materials so often that it seems as if I barely see the inside of the workshop anymore.”
“You’re the only one I trust to get the things I need.”
“I know, and I am thankful for that trust, but... I kind of feel more like a stooge than an apprentice.”
Ruth sighed, frustration building. She didn’t have anyone else to send to get the materials without messing it up. As it was, Ivy’s arrival had solved a lot of problems for her when it came to material acquisition.
But, as she turned to Ivy to explain as much, she noted that the girl’s fists were gripping her skirts so tightly that her knuckles had significantly paled. She wondered why she would be doing such a thing, looking her over for any other signs of distress. It took her a moment to realise that her jaw was firmly set, but her eyes were slightly wide. She was scared, but trying not to be.
Another few moments of consideration brought Ruth to the realisation that Ivy wasn’t intentionally trying to complicate things for her. She was just trying to stand up for herself.
Ruth would have probably argued the point further if Thomas hadn’t also critiqued her decision to use Ivy for every trip to purchase materials for her. He had been worried about Fralsen spies, though Ruth hadn’t taken his concern seriously. Fralsen’s attitude towards The Owl had always been to ignore him and hope that he went away. Ruth had once hoped to spur them into innovation, but that now seemed a lost cause.
Regardless, Thomas had worried that constantly having the same person making purchases on her behalf would make her easy for Fralsen spies to track. Ruth didn’t believe that these spies existed, but if Ivy was also starting to tire of the trips...
“Fine. You may hire another person to go on these trips for you. See Thomas about the money. However, I will have nothing to do with it, I refuse to see this person, and you are still in charge of making sure that everything is exactly as I have asked for it. I refuse to work with sub-par materials.”
Ivy nodded with a grin. “Of course. That’s fine. I’ll go and sort it out now.”
Ruth gave a nod of consent, but still stopped Ivy just before she left the room. “I just wanted to say... I apologise if I am not all that you had hoped I would be as a mentor. I’ve not had a student before and, as you have possibly gathered, I do not know how to handle the company of others. You are a quick study, so I have opted to just leave you to your own devices, but if that’s not enough...”
Ivy shrugged. “You talk when you work, and Thomas has been kind enough to provide me with money to get any books I want to teach myself. I’m catching up.”
Ruth felt guilty at that. As much as Ivy said it was enough, she very much felt as if she was just trying to make Ruth feel better about her neglect.
“Perhaps I could take a look at one of those projects you have been working on,” Ruth proposed. “I’ll give you any assistance you need. Or just a critical eye, if you would prefer.”
“Truly?”
Ruth shrugged. “There’s nothing particularly pressing. Thomas probably won’t be happy with me taking my time with building a body for Mech, but it’s not the end of the world.”
10
“Now, Mech, what do you see?” Ruth asked the metal skull resting on the table, which was now connected to a glowing blue tube that Thomas had acquired for them. An aether core. Ruth had been sure that she wouldn’t get her hands on one for years, given their potential volatility, but now that it was in her hands, she felt no sense of danger, only wonder.
How quickly the world was changing before her very eyes. And her hands would help to sculpt it.
“You and Miss Ivy, I believe,” Mech replied after a while. “Is that truly what humans look like?”
“I should think so, assuming you have not mistaken the table for us or anything like that. Or, at least, the well-endowed women look like this at any rate.”
Ivy failed to hold back a surprised bark.
“What?” Ruth asked her.
“Nothing. I’m just not used to being referred to as ‘well-endowed’. Especially not from a lady such as yourself.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “I was merely being factual. I have quite the womanly figure, but I think you have me beat. It’s difficult to tell with the height difference. You are so much shorter than me.”
Ivy glared at her, but her failure to contain her smile betrayed its facetious nature.
“Could you perhaps not move so much?” Mech asked them. “You have become a blur.”
Ruth sighed. “Unfortunately, that is something you will have to get used to. I haven’t yet managed to get the exposure time to what I want. It’s only a few seconds but, if someone moves, you will see it as blurred, and you’ll only get a new image once it’s finished exposing.”
“I shall endeavour to adjust.”
“Thank you. Though I also lament your lack of depth perception. I have yet to figure out how to have you process two images to judge distance.”
“I am sure I will manage,” Mech assured her. “May I test my body now?”
“Not quite,” Ruth told it. “The right shoulder is giving me a bit of bother. Give me until tomorrow to have it fixed up.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll get you some more tea,” Ivy said as she headed out of the door, only to come rushing back a moment later. “It’s James! James is back.”
Ruth nodded as they both hurried to get changed.
By the time Thomas had brought James up the stairs, they at least managed to look vaguely respectable.
“James,” Ruth greeted. “This is a surprise. You have been quite scarce around here lately.”
She hoped that her tone wasn’t such that he thought she was making light of the fact that she had rejected him. She was very aware that that was the reason he hadn’t been around.
“Well, I hadn’t planned to be back so soon, if I’m being honest, but this situation with The Owl is getting a little bit ridiculous. I cannot extend a contract to someone I have not met. So, if he will not meet with me, I have an invitation from someone he cannot refuse.”
“Someone he cannot refuse?” Ruth asked as James passed her the invitation.
“Here. I believe you are familiar enough with him to pass the message along for me,” he said curtly before turning to leave.
Ruth rolled her eyes as soon as his back was to her. If he was going to be petty over her rejecting him, he could at least have the good graces to do it far from her presence.
Ivy escorted him out as Ruth turned her attention to the letter in hand.
She froze as she read.
Thomas frowned
at her as she finished. “What did it say?”
“Queen Victoria has asked that The Owl attend a ball she is hosting,” Ruth finally managed. “It seems she wishes to discuss his inventions in person.”
Thomas paled. “It seems our bluff has been called. It will be impossible to lie our way out of this one.”
“Is there truly nothing we can do? We could accept and then say he has the flu at the last moment.”
“They are already suspicious. No, The Owl not attending will most likely end the deal and bring us increased scrutiny.”
Ruth sighed, folding her arms. She didn’t want to give up. She had been so aimless before she had found inventing, always feeling out of place in a world not built with her in mind. Inventing had given her a sense of purpose and this contract had been something to strive for. As much as she mocked Thomas using his money to keep score, she was doing the exact same thing.
Ruth wanted The Owl to be one of the greatest names of the age, and working for the Crown would certainly help her along the way.
Thomas sighed, folding his arms. “Perhaps we can hire an actor to pretend to be The Owl. Not that I know any, or would trust any to keep their mouths shut.”
Ruth hummed in thought as she looked back towards the workshop, seeing Mech’s head resting on the table through the slightly ajar door.
“I think I have a better idea,” Ruth said before hurrying through to her workshop.
11
“This is never going to fool anyone,” Thomas said with folded arms as he glared at Mech.
“It’s going to work fine,” Ruth said as she and Ivy finished covering his skeletal hands with gloves. Ruth had wanted more of a solid covering for him, but time was not on her side. And it wasn’t as if anyone would see it anyway.
“How do I look?” Mech asked as Ruth and Ivy stepped back to admire their handiwork.
“Not bad,” Ruth told him honestly.
His coat and trousers hung well over his metallic frame, making him very much appear as a man. The only thing giving him away was his head, which still very much looked like a metal skull.
“What about his head?” Thomas asked, echoing Ruth’s thought process.
“We can cover it,” Ruth figured as she moved over to the selection of wigs and masks she and Ivy had picked up.
“What could possibly cover him to the extent that will fool anyone?”
Ivy sighed at him as Ruth found a decent prospect.
“You’re not being very sporting,” she said as Ruth made her way back over to Mech.
“I’m sorry if I don’t want to be caught lying to the Queen of England.”
“You won’t be,” Ruth assured him. “Mech only has to get through this one ball. We don’t even have to stay that long. He just has to be seen.”
She pulled the wig and mask over Mech’s head and adjusted them so that all of his metal parts were covered. His eyes still had an eerie and not altogether human quality about them, but she supposed that couldn’t be helped.
“He can’t wear a mask all of the time. And he looks ridiculous with every inch of his skin covered like that. Even your fashion sense cannot make that look reasonable.”
“You could say he’s foreign,” Ivy figured.
“Yes!” Ruth agreed, bouncing a little with excitement at the idea. “The French always have ridiculous fashion sense.”
“Does he speak French?” Thomas asked.
“No, but that will be easy enough to remedy. I taught him English, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but you speak English. You do not speak French, or do you not remember your crying fits that had your tutor give up?”
“Je parle français,” Ivy said.
“Pardon?”
“I speak French,” she clarified.
Thomas’ eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Where did you learn to speak French?”
“Sailors, mostly. Traders from across the channel. Hanging around the docks annoyed my mum and it was a good way to cure boredom. Every so often, when she was being too overbearing, I would threaten to abscond to Paris with some new lad. Always sent her into a rage.”
“Used to?” Thomas asked, folding his arms.
Ivy shrugged. “When I started working here, I was suddenly in much less of a hurry to end up in trouble.”
“Probably because Ruth provides more than enough trouble for anyone.”
Ivy smiled. “Probably.”
Thomas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Ever since Ruth had proposed her plan to have Mech pretend to be The Owl, he had been noticeably stressed. Even with her faith in her abilities, Ruth had to admit that she was struggling with sleep even more than usual.
If this failed, they would most definitely tarnish the family name beyond repair. It would be a scandal that even Ruth’s mother, with all of her wit and charm, would be unable to recover from.
Mech, seemingly noticing their concerned thoughts, moved over to the two of them. His movements weren’t as fluid as his flesh counterparts’, but they were more than passable.
“Do you need a cup of tea?” Mech asked her.
Ruth gave a confused frown.
“Miss Ivy always makes you tea when you’re upset.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow. “He can read facial expressions now?”
“Ruth frowns when she’s upset. It is not a difficult pattern to notice.”
Ruth hummed in thought, her frown not leaving. Mech was supposed to simulate conversation. She had wired him to notice patterns in conversation in the hopes that he could learn and progress on his own, but she hadn’t realised that could also be extended to facial expressions.
Ruth shook her head, deciding to refocus. As long as Mech was walking and talking, there wasn’t a problem, and she needed to concentrate on the details to make sure he would convince people.
12
“Let’s walk around the room one more time,” Ruth said as she had her arm linked in Mech’s. She could feel his joint beneath the fabric and had to be careful not to hurt herself, but that was far from her primary concern in that moment.
Mech still lacked proper depth perception, so Ruth was compensating by guiding him so that he didn’t bump into anything. She had added tweaks to his outfit until it no longer looked so outrageous and used pieces of cream fabric to mimic skin in a couple of places, though not enough to draw attention to the fact that it didn’t quite look right. His movements were still stiff, but not enough to cause someone’s mind to jump to ‘mechanical’.
In the end, Mech was a pretty believable facsimile for human.
Or, at least, he was as good at faking as Ruth was, which was close enough.
“He’ll be fine,” Ivy said as she walked into the room and Ruth did a double take as she saw that she was wearing the dress she had bought her.
“You’re coming with us?”
She nodded. “As Thomas’ guest.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want to go to balls.”
“I don’t, but if something goes wrong with Mech, Thomas will be useless. And I didn’t exactly want to pass up an opportunity to see the Queen.”
Ruth grinned. “Then let’s go.”
RUTH SMILED AS SHE heard Ivy gasp as they pulled up to Buckingham Palace. It was a particularly impressive sight, she had to admit. Enough to distract her from running through everything that could possibly go wrong during the night.
“It will be fine,” Ivy assured her, noticing her frown. “Mech is more than up to the task, aren’t you Mech?”
“Oui,” the mechanical man replied with a convincing accent. At least, to Ruth’s ears, which she had to admit weren’t particularly attuned to such things.
“You’d better be,” Thomas said, anxiously glaring out of the window, as was a habit of his.
Ruth focused on the feel of her corset tight around her middle to calm herself as the carriage stopped.
Mech stepped out first and Ruth held her breath, waiting for him to stumb
le on the step he couldn’t see. Thankfully, he managed with only the slightest wobble.
He held his hand back to the carriage and Ruth took it, glad for his lack of skin. There was something far more comforting to his fabric-covered metal.
Thomas and Ivy followed them closely as Ruth focused on leading Mech up the path.
Thankfully, they had arrived at about the same time as a large number of other guests, so they formed a small crowd that was easy to get lost in as they entered the palace and made their way to the ballroom. Feeling invisible helped Ruth’s anxiety considerably.
Of course, that feeling disappeared the moment they entered the room and were announced.
“The Owl and Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone.”
Ruth could have sworn that the room went silent as every eye turned to her and Mech. She found herself unable to breathe until people gradually turned back to their previous conversations.
She watched carefully and saw that there was barely a fraction of the same reaction to Thomas and Ivy, confirming that it had been entirely down to The Owl’s mysterious reputation.
Thomas had warned her that The Owl being so recluse had only encouraged interest in Britain’s Greatest Inventor.
“I have been waiting a long time to meet you, sir.”
Ruth let out a sigh of relief as James approached, focusing in on him instead of the glances and whispers she could feel aimed her way. She wasn’t quite ready for complete strangers.
Mech turned to him, though Ruth had to nudge him a little as he turn all of the way.
“You must be James,” Mech said. “Thomas has told me much about you.”
“And yet he has told me little about you. Half of the boys were convinced you were horribly disfigured. Though I suppose your mask doesn’t dispute that.”
Ruth glared at him. “You are being a tad rude, James.”
“It’s quite alright, dear,” Mech said, reminding her that they were supposed to be pretending to be a couple.
