The Inventor's Secret by Andrea Cremer
“Jack has a prior commitment,” Coe told Charlotte. “But I’m sure you’ll see him later tonight.”
After the meeting he and Ash have with the Resistance, Charlotte thought. She didn’t like the idea of attending some society event while her brother and Jack were risking exposure at a gathering of rebels. But if, as Coe said, the night’s plans had changed, and this was part of the new plan, then Charlotte had no reason to object.
“I’ll dress as quickly as I can,” Charlotte said.
“Good.” Coe’s smile was rather grim. “I’ll await you outside.”
To Charlotte’s surprise and frustration, Meg didn’t return to help her into the evening gown. After a bit of a struggle, Charlotte managed to reach all the buttons and fastenings of the dress. She even styled her hair in an artful twist embellished with a comb of silver and seed pearls.
Charlotte found the house quiet when she exited her room. As promised, Coe was waiting at the iron gate, but he wasn’t waiting alone.
A driver and footman stood beside a carriage of blond wood and brass fittings. Harnessed to the front of the carriage was a horse built entirely of metal that Charlotte thought looked more like a trussed-up skeleton than a tinker’s mechanical wonder.
“You look beautiful,” Coe said, helping Charlotte into the coach.
Charlotte murmured her thanks, but felt uneasy as her senses stirred from Coe’s light touch. She loved Jack. She wanted Jack. Charlotte was certain of that. She toyed with the buttons of her gloves as the gears of the horse began to click and whir.
“What do we have to do at this ball?” Charlotte asked Coe.
He laughed. “Most ladies show a bit more enthusiasm about attending a ball.”
“I’ve never been to such an event,” Charlotte said. “I don’t know what’s expected.”
“You will be expected to smile and look pretty,” Coe replied. “You will curtsey and nod when you are introduced to the lords and ladies of New York.”
Charlotte turned to face him. “Is that all? I don’t have to give a speech or anything like that?”
Coe waved off her horrified expression. “Please remember when I say this that it’s the sentiment of others, not my own: women in the Floating City are meant to be looked upon, not listened to.”
Charlotte wanted to curse at that stupidity, but she checked herself, and all that came out was a pathetic, strangled cry. It made sense that Charlotte would attend a military ball because of her connection to the House of Winter, but why wasn’t Jack escorting her? Hadn’t he claimed that role as his when they concocted this plan?
Leaning back against the carriage seat, Charlotte wished Ash or Meg were there to offer her some comfort.
“It won’t be so awful, Charlotte,” Coe said, taking her hand. “We can dance as much as you like. The whole night if it pleases you.”
Charlotte forced herself to smile at Coe. It wasn’t his fault she was here. “Perhaps.”
That seemed to satisfy him and they passed the rest of the trip in a not terribly awkward silence and Charlotte tried not to think about how pleasant it was to have Coe’s strong hand covering hers.
20.
THE GOVERNOR’S PALACE had been erected at the highest point of the Floating City—its height and girth commandeering an entire platform. Towering over the rest of New York, the building left no doubt as to where the Empire’s power resided.
Charlotte peeked out the carriage window when the mechanical horse began to slow. They’d joined a line of similar coaches, though the creature drawing their carriage was the most ordinary of the animals beings operated by drivers. Charlotte spotted a mechanized ostrich, several lions, and even an elephant at the head of a grand coach out of which four couples emerged.
Their coach came to a stop in front of the gilt palace gates. The footman helped Charlotte out of the carriage. When Coe joined her, she took his arm. Where they walked, heads turned and whispers followed. Charlotte tensed, but Coe whispered to her, “Remember, you belong here.”
Forcing her gaze ahead and her back straight, Charlotte tried to fight off an imminent sense of doom. What could Ash have been thinking? She glanced at Coe, tall and trim, with dark hair, a decorated uniform, and a dangerous smile. It dawned on Charlotte that she would be the envy of many a debutante—any girl who claimed Air Commodore Winter as an escort would garner jealousy . . . and gossip.
Charlotte was still mulling over her presence at the ball when they entered the palace. Coe and Charlotte were escorted to a landing at the top of a broad marble staircase.
Coe withdrew a tiny scroll tied with gold ribbon from inside his coat and handed it to a man who awaited them at the edge of the landing. The staircase led to a grand ballroom filled with men and women dressed in their finest. Many of the men wore officer’s uniforms while others sported finely tailored jackets and waistcoats.
The man who’d taken the scroll cleared his throat. His voice rang out, sailing down the staircase and through the ballroom.
“The Lady Charlotte Marshall of Bermuda. Escorted by Air Commodore Coe Winter.”
The moment their names were announced, the din that filled the ballroom quieted as curious gazes traveled up the stairs. Charlotte hoped she didn’t look as stricken as she felt. Gripping Coe’s arm tightly, she tried to keep a placid smile on her lips as they descended toward the ballroom. She could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes boring into her.
Charlotte’s heart was racing, and she felt faint in a way she never had before. At that moment, she would gladly have taken the smelling salts she’d been offered on the Hector.
But then her feet were on the glossy ballroom floor and the next couple was being announced. Though Charlotte still drew some curious looks, it appeared that the wave of focused attention had passed.
A servant bearing a tray of champagne flutes passed close to them, and Coe lifted two of the slender glasses, handing one to Charlotte.
“This should help,” Coe said, taking a swallow. Though he’d been calm enough upon their arrival, now that they’d reached the ballroom floor, he seemed as nervous as Charlotte.
Charlotte sipped champagne, though she was tempted to gulp it down.
“My heavens!” a woman’s voice trumpeted at Charlotte. She whirled to find Lady Ott bearing down on her.
“What a delightful surprise this is.” Lady Ott beamed at Charlotte. “And that dress! And with Commodore Winter! You have been a busy little bee. Good for you.” Lady Ott turned her smile on Coe. “Commodore, it’s lovely to see you out in the city for a change. Does this mean the Empire has conquered all her foes?”
“Alas,” Coe answered drily, “as long as there is an Empire, she’ll have enemies.”
“Too true, too true.” Lady Ott bobbed her head as she agreed. “But at least you found the time to offer this beautiful girl your attentions. What a fine pair you make—my husband will be so surprised when he sees you. Ah, there he is now. Darling! Come see who I’ve found.”
Charlotte didn’t know if it was the way Lady Ott said “so surprised” or that Coe flinched when Lord Ott’s girth pressed through the crowd, but she instantly knew something was off.
“Miss Marshall.” Lord Ott swept his hat off as he bowed. “How lovely to see you again so soon.”
“But of course she’d be here, my dearest,” Lady Ott said to her husband. “It is her first season, remember?”
“So it is.” Lord Ott rounded on Coe. “And though it’s her first hunt, she’s snared the most elusive prey. I can’t remember the last time I saw you at the Governor’s Palace, Commodore.”
“My command keeps me away,” Coe said quickly. “But since Miss Marshall has been sponsored by the House of Winter, I thought it only proper to—”
“Spare me your thoughts, boy.” Lord Ott cut him off. Leaning close, Ott growled in a low voice, “What in Hephaestus’s name a
Charlotte’s eyes widened, and she glanced in alarm at Lady Ott, but the plump woman continued to smile beatifically.
“Don’t fret, Miss Marshall.” Lady Ott didn’t drop her smile. “Let the men take care of their business. Oh, careful now—you’ll spill your champagne.”
Behind Lady Ott’s buoyant expression, Charlotte saw an unmistakable sharpness in the woman’s gaze. Lady Ott knew. She wasn’t an ignorant wife—she was a partner to Lord Ott in every way.
Forcing a giggle to continue their act, Charlotte sipped her champagne while watching Coe and Lord Ott out of the corner of her eye.
“The best thing you can do is leave,” Lord Ott was saying, though like his wife, he wore an expression of benign amusement. “Leave now.”
“We can’t,” Coe argued. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
Charlotte was about to interrupt and demand to know exactly what the new plan was and how it could be so new that Lord Ott had been excluded from it, but her question was drowned out by the announcement of another couple’s arrival.
“The Lady Eleanor Stuart. Escorted by her fiancé, Flight Lieutenant Jack Winter.”
Charlotte went as rigid as if she’d stared into the face of Medusa. It was impossible. She could not have just heard what she somehow thought she’d heard.
Coe’s voice reached her, as if from a great distance. “I’m sorry, Charlotte.”
His hand touched her shoulder, and Charlotte could move again. Without hesitating, she gulped down the rest of her champagne.
“Oh, dear.” Lady Ott gave her husband a knowing glance. She snatched the empty champagne glass from Charlotte’s hand.
Lord Ott looked up the stairs, then at Charlotte, and then at Coe. “That’s what this is all about. Bugger it all, Coe. There are better ways to handle this matter.”
Charlotte didn’t want to look at the staircase, but her eyes didn’t listen to her heart’s shrieks of warning. Part of her still couldn’t believe this was anything more than a mistake.
But there he was. Jack. Her Jack. He came down the steps with a willowy girl in sky blue silk on his arm. Jack Winter, her fiancé. Spots began to float in Charlotte’s vision. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. When she opened them again, the spots were gone, but she felt sick.
Lord Ott said to Coe, “Get Charlotte out of here before you make things worse.”
“No.” Coe folded his arms across his chest. “Jack needs to learn a lesson.”
“Forget your brother.” Lord Ott shook a finger in Coe’s face. “Think of the girl.”
Lady Ott cleared her throat. “Girls,” she corrected him.
“I am thinking of Charlotte,” Coe shot back. “Do you think I’d have brought her here, made her see this travesty, if I didn’t give a damn about her?”
“And what of Eleanor?” Lady Ott asked. It was amazing to see how the woman could keep a bright smile on her face while throwing daggers with her eyes.
Coe didn’t answer her.
“Athene have mercy.” Lord Ott pulled a kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his face.
Somehow, Charlotte found her voice, small and strained though it was. “Please, Coe. I want to leave.”
Her words brought doubt into Coe’s angry gaze. “Charlotte, I didn’t do this to hurt you. I couldn’t let Jack shame you with his lies. He would ruin you in ways you can’t imagine.”
“I want to leave now,” Charlotte said again.
Jack and the girl had reached the ballroom floor.
“Take her home, Coe,” Lady Ott urged.
Charlotte whispered, “It’s too late.”
Jack had seen Coe first and frowned, obviously not expecting to find his brother in attendance. When Jack saw Lord Ott, his face grew worried, but then his gaze fell on Charlotte. Jack blanched and took a step backward.
Lady Ott moved to Charlotte’s side. “Courage, sweetling,” she murmured.
There was nothing to do but wait for Jack and his fiancée to join them. Lord Ott moved to greet the couple first.
“Lieutenant Winter.” Ott smiled at Jack. “A pleasure.”
“Lord Ott.” Jack inclined his head. “I don’t believe you’ve met Lady Eleanor Stuart.”
“The pleasure is mine.” Lord Ott bowed. “And this is my wife, Lady Margery Ott.”
Lady Eleanor’s curtsey was the essence of grace. She looked at Coe and smiled.
“Jack didn’t say you’d be here, Commodore. What a delight. I’ve missed you terribly.”
“You honor me with kindness, Lady Stuart.” Coe gave a quick bow. “I like to keep my brother guessing. Of course, it’s lovely to see you again. Good evening, Jack.”
Given the fury in Jack’s eyes, Charlotte felt certain that if Jack had been holding a knife, he would have stabbed Coe without hesitation.
But what right did Jack have to be angry?
He was the one who had told Charlotte he wanted her. He was the one who had kissed her and made promises to speak to Ash . . . about what? It couldn’t have been marriage. Jack was already pledged to someone else. Someone Charlotte had never dreamed could exist.
Not once had he mentioned this Eleanor, his betrothed.
But his mother had.
Have you brought Eleanor to see me?
Waves of anger and disbelief washed over Charlotte. She forced herself to be very still. She couldn’t look at Jack for fear that her poison tongue would prove stronger than her will, so she turned her eyes upon Eleanor. Charlotte searched for anything about the girl she could fault, wanting nothing more than to despise her.
Eleanor had skin like fresh cream. Her honey-gold hair spilled like spun silk over her slender, bare shoulders. Her eyes were the liquid brown of a wide-eyed fawn. And when Eleanor turned her face to smile up at Jack, she glowed with affection.
Charlotte rocked back on her heels, again feeling faint. She dared to glance at Jack. He didn’t look happy with Eleanor on his arm, but no doubt his sour face was on account of Coe catching him unawares.
Eleanor looked from Coe to Charlotte. “Will you introduce me to your lovely companion?”
Jack grimaced, but Coe replied, “Forgive me. Lady Eleanor, may I present Lady Charlotte Marshall of Bermuda.”
“Bermuda?” Eleanor clapped her hands in delight. “I’ve never met someone from the islands. How exciting it must be to live there! No wonder you’ve caught the eye of our dear commodore. Did you meet on one of his missions? How romantic! I often daydream of joining my Jack on his military expeditions, but only nurses are allowed near the front lines.”
With every word Eleanor spoke, Jack’s expression darkened. “Charlotte’s father is a friend of the admiral, so our house has acted as her sponsor for her debut into society. Charlotte and Coe have only just met.”
“Ah,” Eleanor said. “But what a fine match they make. Don’t you think?”
“I’d have to agree,” Coe murmured, resting his hand on the small of Charlotte’s back. “I never dreamed of claiming a fortune as great as the favor of Lady Charlotte Marshall.”
Feeling like a wind-up doll, Charlotte stiffly turned her face to look up at Coe with utter incredulity. By Athene, why would he say such a thing?
“My dear, I must introduce you to some of my friends.” Lady Ott snagged Eleanor’s arm and pulled her away. “Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll return her shortly."
When Lady Ott and Eleanor were out of earshot, Jack glared at Coe.
“What kind of monster are you?”
“I’m not the monster here,” Coe replied coolly. “I’d wager that Charlotte would agree with me.”
Charlotte didn’t know what she thought. She had the strangest sensation of having left her body and watching someone else??
Jack took a menacing step forward, but Lord Ott placed his massive frame between the brothers. “Now, now. Let’s remember where we are and how vital it is that you not cause a scene.”
Tearing his hateful gaze away from Coe, Jack looked at Charlotte. He took a step toward her, hand outstretched. His attention forced Charlotte back into the scene. And it was the last place she wanted to be.
“Charlotte—”
“Don’t you dare try to touch me.” Charlotte drew back, words full of venom.
Coe stepped forward, half shielding Charlotte from Jack.
Jack went still. “You don’t understand.”
“No, Jack.” Charlotte’s eyes began to burn. “I don’t.”
Lord Ott cleared his throat. “I’m painfully aware that I do not have all the facts of this matter, but Charlotte, my dear, your tears will cause as much of a scene as any brawl that should ensue between these gentlemen.”
Charlotte blinked rapidly, forcing back teardrops.
“Charlotte, please.” Jack’s voice was on the verge of breaking. “Just let me talk to you.”
Lord Ott frowned at Jack. “Your talking isn’t helping.”
“Ah, here you are!”
Charlotte almost jumped out of her skin when someone grasped her elbow.
“Startles easily, this one.” It took a moment for Charlotte to recognize Linnet. The girl had utterly transformed herself.
Linnet’s hair was expertly arranged atop her head, held in place by a fine net of freshwater pearls. Her gown matched the bright blue of her eyes, and a choker of pearls and sapphire embraced her throat.
“What are you doing here?” Lord Ott demanded. “And how much did that getup cost me?”
“The dressmaker is sending you a bill. So is the jeweler,” Linnet answered. “I’m here to make my report. I dropped the boy at Winter mansion. You told me to inform you when I’d completed that task. So here I am.”
She pointed at Charlotte. “Oh, and that one’s brother is worried sick that she’s gone missing, so I promised him I’d find her. And now I have. My goodness, I have talent.”