Evie's Gift Page 2

  Ha. As if propriety could assure our futures.

  "Really, Evie, the engineering of this coach is well done." Jeffrey craned his neck to see out of the mechanical coach Lord Weatherly sent to collect them. Rather than a horse drawn carriage, the usual conveyance of English gentry, the motorized vehicle distinguished them from the rest of the disembarking passengers. Only high ranking military and nobles well-placed in English society had access to the mechanicals, which were normally reserved for combat and the art of war.

  She settled gratefully into the comfortably cushioned interior, listening to the steady rhythm of the steam-driven engine. Occasional hisses of steam punctuated the regular motion, released from pistons and pressure valves. "The engine runs smoothly."

  He nodded absentmindedly as he studied the vehicle. "Efficient, comfortable, and elegant. Exemplary design."

  "Mmm..." She began to drift off. Softly she murmured, "Little too much pressure in the steering column. There's uneven wear on the inside of the right wheel."

  "Evie." He snapped, alarm pitching his voice higher than normal.

  She bolted upright, startled out of her doze. "What?"

  Dropping to a whisper so the driver wouldn't hear, he leaned toward her, his brows drawn together in concern. "Even in sleep, you can not speak of your...knack with metal and machinery."

  She dropped her chin, contrite, tamping down on the frustration threatening to flare into anger. "I'm sorry. I'll try to keep it under better control; I'm just exhausted."

  In response to her distress, Toby clicked and whirred, changing from a watch to his little metallic squirrel form to scamper up her arm and sit on her shoulder.

  His expression softened, his brow smoothing. "I know, Evie." He paused. "I truly want what is best for you and for the family business. You need a man of good character and standing to see to your comfort. I do want you to be happy."

  She twisted her handkerchief in her hands to keep from taking out her frustration on his travel jacket. "It's a bit difficult to remember sometimes, but I do understand."

  And she did, even if she wished for more than the quiet life of a contented married woman. But more of what, she didn't know quite yet.

  The coach slowed to a stop with only a slight jar, impressive considering their traveling speed had been faster than any horse-drawn carriage. A footman opened the door and helped her from the carriage. With Jeffrey by her side, they climbed the broad steps to the main house, a European design built of honey-colored stone, speaking of age and distinguished wealth.

  A somber butler admitted them into a huge entrance hall, echoing with their footsteps as they entered.

  "And here they are!" An older, heavyset gentleman strode toward them with a small gaggle of maids in his wake.

  "Lord Weatherly, thank you for having us." Jeffrey stepped forward, giving the man a vigorous handshake.

  "A pleasure, lad. Your father was a good friend and a fine a business partner."

  Evie kept her eyes cast down, doing her best to be demure, or at least what she thought might work. Still, she peeked through her lashes to get an idea of the type of man their host was. He seemed kind, with laugh lines creasing his face rather than signs of perpetual frowning. Big bushy brows lifted as he turned his attention to her and she quickly dropped her gaze to the marbled floor.

  "And this must be Miss Evangeline." She warmed at the gentleness in the old man's voice and smiled when he teased her brother. "Here in England, young Jeffrey, an introduction is required for a gentleman to address a lady. I'm an old man, so I'll do away with proprieties between us, but if you'd like the young lady introduced properly, you'll have to step up to the task."

  Jeffrey jumped. "Oh! You're absolutely right. Please, allow me to start over. May I make known to you my sister, Evangeline Dunn."

  "Better." Lord Weatherly nodded. Then he bowed to her, humor dancing in his light brown eyes. "Miss Dunn, a pleasure to finally meet you. When I was last in New York, your father turned into a blathering idiot whenever he spoke of you. You were but a babe then, always kept tucked away in the nursery, and still the dearest spark in your father's heart."

  "Thank you, my lord." She returned his bow hesitantly, not sure how far a girl should bow but following his lead in not extending her hand. At his words about her father, her heart tightened.

  Toby chirruped and peeked out of her hair, clicking a comforting reassurance in her ear.

  Lord Weatherly's eyes fastened on Toby, and she almost took a step back from the sudden sharp inspection.

  "No need to worry, Miss Dunn, I'm only interested in the engineering of your little mechanical. Your father's design, is it?"

  "Yes, my lord." In response to her hesitation, Toby gave a little hiss of steam and dove back into hiding under the few curling locks of hair escaping from her coiffure.

  Lord Weatherly shook his head with a rueful smile. "Your father wasn't only an engineer, the man was an artist. That little mechanical alone is a bit of genius."

  Pleased with his appraisal of her father's work, her cheeks heated a little. "I'm sure he would have been glad to hear it, my lord."

  "Oh no." Lord Weatherly tipped his head back and laughed. "I would never have admitted it to the man; it would have only served to encourage him to continue upstaging my own designs. We had a friendly competition, your father and I. Made the both of us better for it." He took a moment to gather his composure, still smiling. "But you must be tired from the journey. Hannah here, will take you to your room while Jeffrey and I have a drink in my office."

  Evie truly hoped the stairs would end at some point. The long, curving staircase seemed lovely from the entrance hall, but her legs screamed at her as she followed the spry maid. Then they followed what seemed to be miles and miles of hallways. Certain she would never find her way back, she wondered if a servant would always be nearby to ask directions.

  "Here are your rooms, Miss." Hannah reached for the doorknob and turned it, but stopped abruptly and frowned as she jiggled it. "Oh no. It seems to be locked."

  "Oh!" She wondered if they kept the unused rooms locked as a practice. Probably not, since Hannah seemed so surprised.

  "If you'll wait a moment, Miss, I'll fetch one of the butlers with a key." Hannah bobbed once and took off down the hall.

  Much longer and she might fall over where she stood. She studied the lock for a moment. A simple design, she doubted it had more than one or two tumblers to it. Toby scampered out onto her shoulder and extracted two long, slender pieces of metal, one flattened and bent at the end while the other formed a J hook.

  "Thank you, Toby," she murmured as she glanced up and down the hallway. No one in sight and no footsteps to be heard. Really, it wouldn't take long and she truly longed to get inside for a quick rest before dinner.

  Bending to study the lock, she inserted her torsion wrench and began the lock picking process. A moment later, Toby squeaked an alarm and she straightened, the door swinging open under her hands.

  "Full of surprises, Miss Dunn."

  No butler had arrived. Of course she couldn't be so lucky as to be discovered by a servant. Oh no, Lord Weatherly himself stood there, his arms folded and a grin splitting his face almost in two.

  At least he didn't look appalled.

  Clearing her throat, she handed the torsion wrench and J hook back to Toby so her mechanical could hide the evidence. Late, yes, but hidden before her host summoned Jeffrey.

  He continued to grin at her until she forced herself to respond. "Surprises, Lord Weatherly?"

  Weatherly tipped back his head and laughed heartily. "I wondered at the timid little bit in the entrance way, thinking I might be disappointed." He stepped past her to push the door the rest of the way open. "But no, indeed, you are your father's daughter, with a few unexpected qualities in store. I am most delighted."

  "I’m not certain I understand.” She expected him to be upset in some way, put off or even insulted. After all, lock picking could hardly be counted am
ongst the skills of the gentry and most definitely not a lady-like pursuit.

  No, the old man still chuckled as he entered the rooms intended for her use and cast his gaze about with a sharp eye. "I came up myself, Miss Dunn, rather than sending a butler to deal with the young scamp likely responsible for the small prank of locking your rooms against you." He opened the wardrobe and leaned into one or two doorways leading off to adjoining rooms.

  "Obviously, her efforts are no match for your unique skill set." He snorted. "If my hunch about you is correct, this will be an interesting holiday."

  His jovial air proved contagious, and Evie laughed. "I'm relieved you find my peculiarities interesting, my lord."

  He turned to her, his eyes shining with warmth and acceptance. "Your father taught me many things through the course of our friendship, my dear. I would be remiss not to recognize his spark in one of his children." He swept an arm to the side, indicating not only the room but the entire estate. "While you are here, you may consider this your home. You and your brother are most welcome." He laughed again, the kind that rolled up from the belly and filled the room. "If only to make life interesting again for this very bored old man."

  Hannah arrived with a tray of tea and snacks. "Oh! My lord, you managed to open the door. Thank you so much. I'm so sorry you were troubled."

  "Not at all, Hannah." Weatherly strode back out of the room, giving Evie a conspiratorial wink as he passed her. "The suspect is not present in the room, so we'll find her later, shall we? And there’s no need to inform the lady of the house of this little bit of mischief."

  Hannah bobbed a curtsy. "Of course, my lord."

  "Very good." Lord Weatherly nodded. To Evie, he bowed. "Rest and refresh yourself, Miss Dunn. We'll see you at dinner."

  A brief nap and the chance to change into a fresh dress worked wonders for Evie's clarity of mind. Rather than apprehension, she approached dinner with an insatiable curiosity. After all, her host seemed positively delighted in catching her lock picking and, in fact, hinted at another lady responsible for the locked door in the first place.

  It was quite the mystery, really, and so much better than the way he ought to have reacted.

  Jeffrey waited for her at the foot of the stairs in the main hall, smartly dressed for dinner in a well-tailored suit, his dark hair freshly combed and his jaw cleanly shaven. He'd inherited their father's strong bone structure and height where she had her mother's petite stature.

  Jeffrey smiled up at her as she descended the last few steps. "You look lovely, Evie. Feeling better rested?"

  "Much. Ready to enjoy the evening." She smiled in return, warming in response to the infectious charm he possessed. The doting older brother she remembered growing up had returned for the time being, affectionate and considerate. He'd been so preoccupied with business concerns lately; she'd missed this aspect of him. He hadn’t turned into a complete prick, after all.

  He grinned and offered her his arm. "It's a small gathering tonight with Lord Weatherly and his household. Guests will start arriving tomorrow for the Christmas festivities. Be sure to offer to help in the preparations, Evie. I think Lord Weatherly has taken a fondness to you, the way you remind him of father, and it would be a weight off my mind if he offered to sponsor you."

  "Can he?" She cocked her head to one side. "I'd thought a lady would need to be my sponsor."

  "Oh." He looked ahead to the dining room. "We haven't been introduced to the lady of the house, have we? Lord Weatherly is married, but he barely mentioned her. Odd we weren't introduced earlier."

  "Maybe she was indisposed," she suggested, and Toby chirped an agreement from her shoulder. Their host had mentioned not only his wife but also the mystery prankster earlier in the hallway, but she wasn’t going to explain to her brother. "Perhaps we'll meet her at dinner."

  Jeffrey glared at the little mechanical. "Toby should remain quiet at the table. He shouldn't be running about chirping and hissing steam all over dinner, interrupting conversation. None of his hijinx to make dinner more entertaining for you."

  Toby whistled a thin plume of steam in Jeffrey's direction, but she directed her mechanical to scamper down her arm and encircle her wrist in watch form with a single thought. Attuned as he was to her biometrics, he obeyed her conscious commands instantaneously, his responses to her subconscious cues overridden.

  "Ah, perfect timing!" Lord Weatherly strode towards them from what Evie thought must be the dining hall, his face lit with good cheer and his voice pitched heartily loud. He hustled the two of them back the way he'd come. "I'm looking forward to introducing the two of you."

  Just outside the dining hall, an elegant elderly woman stood very straight and tall, both hands resting on the shoulders of a young girl, no more than twelve or thirteen years in age.

  "Mister and Miss Dunn, this is my wife, Lady Weatherly, and my granddaughter, Miss Angelica Weatherly. We missed the chance for introductions earlier as my wife was out on errands in town."

  Evie smiled politely, nodding and bobbing a small curtsey in response to Lady Weatherly’s brief nod. The older woman had sharp eyes despite her serene expression, and Evie was certain she had taken in every detail of her appearance and comportment in a single, swift glance.

  "A pleasure." Jeffrey bowed low, eliciting a giggle from Angelica, swiftly silenced when Lady Weatherly tightened her grip on the little girl's shoulder.

  Evie didn't miss the gesture, having memories of the same silent admonishments growing up. Angelica was a lovely girl with golden curls and amazing blue eyes. She wore a pink and lace confection of a dress, but Evie guessed the little girl would rather be running about in just her knickers. Evie would have.

  Jeffrey smiled at Angelica. “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Angelica. May I say that’s a lovely dress?”

  “The lace itches.” The sweet girl delivered her forthright response in a flat tone. She obviously remained unimpressed with compliments.

  “Angelica.” Lady Weatherly immediately pounced.

  Try wearing a corset, Evie thought. Corsets had been the plague of her existence at an early age. Her mother had been determined to ensure her waist remained trim despite the generous curve of her bust and hip. It wouldn’t be long until Angelica experienced similar entrapment.

  Lord Weatherly cleared his throat. "And apparently while my lady was out on errands, she came across this young scamp turned respectable captain."

  She hadn't seen Captain Corwin standing off to one side, by a set of tall windows.

  "Captain Corwin!" Jeffrey offered a hand, which Captain Corwin shook without hesitation. "We hadn't expected to meet you again. What a pleasant surprise, right Evie?"

  Her brother might be genuinely happy to see the captain, but she sighed inwardly. Jeffrey had decided the captain might look on them favorably after the incident with the submarine, but she still had her reservations. The captain didn’t impress her as the forgetful sort, and he had obviously thought she’d had something to do with the enemy attack. He must have decided she wasn’t directly responsible for endangering the crew and passengers or he wouldn’t have let them disembark, but he certainly looked at her with a sharp glare.

  Already under pressure to behave properly in front of Lady Weatherly, she had the urge to fidget, much the way Angelica already did.

  "Why don't we head in to dinner?" Lord Weatherly suggested. "I'm sure we're all ready for sustenance."

  Alec Corwin hadn't expected to enjoy dinner quite so thoroughly. He'd originally accepted the Lady Weatherly's impromptu invitation in order to catch up with the always genial Lord Weatherly. He'd been even more curious when he heard they were hosting the Dunns. Miss Dunn's odd behavior lingered in his thoughts and he certainly intended to investigate his hunch about her. She'd spotted a submarine from miles above sea surface, of that he was certain, regardless of her brother's assertion to the contrary. He had no proof, and based on his gut, its appearance had been coincidence rather than subterfuge or conspiracy. He
still wanted to get to the bottom of how Evangeline Dunn had known the submarine had been there.

  Something is out of place, out of the ordinary.

  The menu was exquisite, to be sure, featuring herb crusted ribs of beef and roasted foul stuffed and served with truffles. None of the more intimidating English traditions, such as calf's head, made an appearance. Alec wondered, as he studied Miss Dunn, how she might react to such delicacies.

  She was indeed a lovely young woman. Her fine-boned face and eyes the color of dark melted chocolate captivated him. On the airship, a shining lock of brown black hair always fell loose from the swath of pinned up curls. By the second course of dinner, it won free again. Unfortunately, while she was quite charming herself, her behavior proclaimed her obviously American.

  Her mannerisms were abrupt, and she had a habit of speaking out of turn with a bold waving of hands. Most of the gentlemen and many of his officers back on the airship found her more a source of amusement than a potential match. Lord Weatherly seemed to find her amusing, while Lady Weatherly's expression darkened. Angelica, on the other hand, warmed to Evie.

  "Before we have tea and port, I have a surprise for you all," Lord Weatherly announced with a humor filled glance at Angelica. The girl perked up immediately. "Come this way."

  While the Dunns and Angelica hurried after their portly host towards the gardens, Alec followed at a slower pace. Excitement emanated from the three of them in such a fresh and enthusiastic way, he couldn't help grinning.

  "Here we are. I'll be unveiling them at tomorrow's ball, but you all will be the first to see them." Lord Weatherly gestured to the three huge mechanicals standing in the open courtyard that led to his extensive gardens. "The three latest models in mobile infantry designed and built by my factories."

  The three of them buzzed with excitement and appreciation as they admired the sheer size of them. The mechanicals stood several times the height of a man, formidable and impressive. It seemed as if someone had taken one of the squat armored fighting vehicles, mounted it on legs, and given it arms ending in nightmarish pincers. Then they'd made two more of the metal beasts.