Steam Guardians 01 - A Lady Can Never Be Too Curious (7 page)

“You’re a lady; stay in there. I’ve no more liking for this bit of business than you do, but I can’t lose my place any more than you want to give up the comfortable life you have.”

Giles closed her door with a disgusted grunt. She was left staring at the things she considered hers. Today she had to face the fact that nothing in the room belonged to her. The law would support her father’s right to manage her however he saw fit. The very clothes on her back belonged to him.

But a clinic?

She sat and covered her mouth with one hand. Those clinics were places of horror where pain was often used as therapy. Maybe she had heard the tales over tea, but women were most often sent to the places by men who wanted them to be obedient. Like her father wished of her.

Darius’s face rose from her memory with all his insistence that she did not belong in his world. But maybe she did. At the moment, it seemed more welcoming than the society she’d been raised in, a society that would see her sent to a clinic because she enjoyed knowledge.

And
kisses…

Even the memory of Darius’s kiss wasn’t enough to distract her from her dilemma. She paced until well after sundown, but Giles remained at his post until another man took his place.

It appeared she would be going to the clinic. Horror rose up so thick, it threatened to choke her. She swallowed, forcing herself to plan. She’d done a good job of being everything her father wanted her to be until now. She would have to try and convince him she was still docile.

It was the only way to get him to lower his guard.

And then she’d run—hurry as fast as she could to the only place where she might be respected. That place her friends looked down their noses at only because they had been trained to do so by their parents. Well, she wanted to know—wanted to know so much more than she did. She wanted to understand what she was.

***

The next morning, Janette climbed meekly into the carriage.

“I am relieved to see you calmly ready to follow my instructions, Janette,” her father remarked.

She wasn’t calm, but she offered her father a serene smile, one she’d perfected over countless tea services where the conversation had been dull enough to almost kill her.

The carriage came to a stop outside the clinic, and the footman let the steps down. Janette didn’t wait for her father but left the vehicle, because like everything else in her life, it was closing in on her.

“Your demeanor gives me hope that Dr. Nerval will be able to cure you of this Illuminist nonsense,” her father announced as the footman appeared with a satchel and placed it near her on the pavement. “The upstairs maid packed everything you shall need for your stay.”

“My stay?”

“Yes,” her father answered. “Dr. Nerval was quite clear. You will need to be completely removed from any sources of impure thinking while being purged.”

She wouldn’t be staying.

Two burly men started toward her from the clinic, making it plain her attempt couldn’t begin immediately.

“Good-bye, Father.”

It was a bittersweet moment, one she expected to hurt more. Instead, she felt a sense of strength growing inside her.

“Now, Janette, it is only for a little while.”

She reached down and picked up the satchel herself. She didn’t look back at her father. There was nothing behind her but a life spent in ignorance. Clarity dawned on her, a clear understanding of why she’d gone up those steps to the Solitary Chamber. Something had drawn her there, something inside of her.

Something she craved to know more about.

She wasn’t even sure how long she’d battled the discontent that had prompted her to try to enter the Illuminists’ building. At the moment, it felt as if she had been secretly yearning to escape her father’s home for years. That wasn’t very kind of her, for her mother loved her, but somehow, she had always sensed a distance between her father and herself.

The clinic attendants flanked her, their white jackets sending a chill down her spine. The sense of impending imprisonment made her mouth go dry. The urge to run needled her more and more the closer she came to the door of the clinic.

Janette clamped her control down on top of that impulse. The presence of the attendants told her they expected her to flee, so she would deny them the spectacle. She would employ every bit of intelligence and find a way to outwit Dr. Nerval’s staff. If they believed her accepting, they would be less likely to watch her closely. That hope made it possible for her to step through the doors and conceal her cringe when they closed firmly behind her.

“Miss Janette, I am pleased to see you so calm.”

The doctor stood with his stiff-faced matron one pace behind him. There was a look of anticipation in his eyes that doubled her resolve to escape.

“I cannot imagine being upset by anything my dear father has asked of me.” She spoke in her sweetest voice, and the matron softened her expression. Janette widened her eyes. “The weather is lovely this morning,” she offered sweetly.

“Yes…well, we have more important matters to discuss.”

Janette smiled brightly at the matron as the doctor walked past her with a mild look of disgust on his face. Men of the upper class liked to preach about how they wanted their ladies docile, but most of them couldn’t stomach the mindless conversation very well. More than one wife had encouraged her friends to prattle on about meaningless topics until their husbands all retired to the smoking room.

But Janette’s anxiety increased as they made their way down the hallway. All the windows were covered with iron screens. There was the insistent jingle of keys, and she noticed that every door had a lock. A quick glance from beneath her lashes showed her that the matron had a ring of keys hanging from her belt like some sort of chamberlain or jailer from the Dark Ages.

Her hope began to diminish as they passed a door that rattled and she heard someone’s desperate plea for release. Ahead of the doctor, one of the white-coated attendants opened a large door, his key ring clanking. The matron placed a hand in the center of Janette’s back to guide her through.

“Now, Miss Janette, we will dispense with the charade and you shall show me your skills,” Dr. Nerval stated victoriously.

The only windows in the room were up near the ceiling. Behind her, the door closed with a solid sound, and the key grated in the lock. Only the matron remained, and she reached out to pull the satchel from Janette’s hands.

Janette didn’t try to hold on to it. She was too distracted by the contents of the room. All around her she heard the rhythmic hum of Deep Earth Crystals. There were tables set up with different crystals on them. No table held more than one, and all of them were placed on copper plates. The look in the doctor’s eyes had blossomed into full anticipation, and it sickened her because she could see that she was nothing more than another specimen for him to use in his quest for knowledge.

“You will show me exactly what sort of Pure Spirit you are.”

***

Sophia Stevenson covered her mouth and tried not to retch. Horror clogged her throat and threatened to make her lose her breakfast.

“Miss Sophia? We can’t be staying here. Your father wouldn’t approve. I shouldn’t have allowed you to instruct me to follow your friend’s carriage, for now we’re in a poor section of town. We shouldn’t be here.”

Her driver sounded almost panicked, and she couldn’t blame the man for losing his nerve. No one ventured into that section of town without good reason.

“Yes, let’s go.”

Her driver wasted no time in letting the horses have their freedom. He put the team into motion so quickly she fell back into the seat, but she didn’t care.

How could she sniffle about being jostled inside her carriage when her dearest friend was being locked away inside an insane asylum?

The driver slowed his pace as they neared her father’s shop. Sophia found the last few minutes in the carriage almost unbearable. She was twitching with the need to do something, anything to help Janette. But even when she stood in the back room of her father’s shop where she and Janette had laughed so recently, she couldn’t decide what action to take. What could she do?

Women had few rights, and Janette’s father could insist on treatment if he had a doctor to testify that she needed attention. Sophia felt her temper spike. Janette had even fewer rights than a thief because she hadn’t actually broken any law and wouldn’t be given a trial before being locked away. Why hadn’t Sophia noticed just how unfair the law was in regard to women? The suffragette cause suddenly took on a new appeal.

Well, she was going to help her friend. Sophia paced in a circle and then several more as she tried to concoct a plan of action.

“What is the matter, Sophia?” her sister demanded from the doorway.

“Nothing, Cora. Go and help Father.”

Her sister stiffened. “Nothing, is it? You sound like an Irish jig dancer pacing about. Don’t tell me nothing is bothering you. Why are you back so soon, anyway? I thought you were off to visit with Janette.”

Sophia failed to hide the horror from her sister. Cora abandoned her harsh expression and hurried toward her so they might whisper. “What happened?”

“Janette’s father sent her to…a clinic.”

Cora paled. “We shall have to think of some way…to help her…” Cora’s voice became softer as she fought back tears.

But it was the hopelessness in her tone that spurred Sophia into action.

“Don’t you dare cry. We will not accept this…action from her father, do you understand? I refuse to weep for Janette because we cannot think of any way to help her.”

Cora drew in a stiff breath. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but I can’t think of anyone who can help us. The law favors her father in every way. No constable will listen to us, and she doesn’t have a fiancé to battle on her behalf.”

“Oh, Cora, you are perfect to think of such a thing!”

Sophia hurried to the wardrobe and pulled it open. She had to force herself to move slowly so that her father wouldn’t come to investigate the amount of noise she made. Sophia put on the cycling outfit without hesitation.

Cora frowned as she watched her sister button up the jacket. “What are you doing, Sophia?”

“Going to find someone who can help Janette.”

Cora stepped into her path. “If you go looking for Darius Lawley, you’ll only bring more trouble down on Janette. If she had refused to dance with him, he’d never have had the chance to take her into the garden and annoy her father so much.”

Sophia stepped around her sister and pulled the leather top hat off the shelf, placing it firmly on her head. “You don’t understand, Cora. Janette and Mr. Lawley had already met, and I do honestly believe they just might be fated to be together.”

“You’re mad, and if Janette is talking anything like you, I can begin to understand why her father believes her mentally ill.”

“Don’t ever say such a horrible thing like that to me again.” Sophia yanked a kid glove onto her left hand. “Go out front and simper like a nitwit if you want to, but I will not listen to rubbish—curiosity and knowledge are not a disease. I will not leave Janette in that horrible place, not when I believe Darius Lawley can help her.”

“But she won’t be able to go home if he does.”

Sophia picked up a pair of glasses and put them on. The lenses were round and darkened to keep the sunlight from hurting her eyes. She ran her hands down the peplum of the jacket and tightened her resolve.

“I believe Janette would rather live as an Illuminist than as a broken spirit.”

Cora followed her, stopping at the back door. “I hope you’re right.”

So did Sophia. Doubt needled her, but she pressed on, leaving the yard and crossing the street. She hoped and prayed, but she never hesitated.

When Janette concentrated, she realized that the crystals all had different tones. There was a clear division in the center of the room, the tables separated by several yards.

Male
and
female…

Professor Yulric’s words rose from her memory.

“What do you mean when you call me a Pure Spirit?”

Dr. Nerval thumped his cane against the floor, but Janette didn’t let the sound startle her.

“You shall have to decide what you wish, Doctor.” She walked around the room, pausing to look at several of the crystals. “I can continue to act the simpleton my father placed me in your care to ensure I become, or I can dispense with pretenses and hold an intelligent conversation with you.”

She stopped and faced him with a bright smile. Janette folded her hands perfectly at waist level, right on top of left, with fingers curled inward.

“A Pure Spirit has the ability to have the crystals interact kindly with the skin. It is hereditary and is only passed by bloodline. Just as a fish has scales to survive in the water, your skin has certain properties that Deep Earth Crystals share. Such properties insulate your skin from the power of the crystals. You are a human conductor of their power.” His eyes glowed with eager anticipation. He lifted his cane and pointed at one table. “If my informants are trustworthy, you handled a level-four crystal, which makes you a Pure Spirit. Pick that one up. I want to know if it’s true. You’re worthless otherwise.”

That uneasy feeling crept across her thoughts again, making her hesitate. She was only an object to the man directing her. Never had she felt like her actions might matter any great amount beyond the boundaries of her own life. Now she wasn’t so sure. The crystals fascinated her, but she balked at performing obediently when she had no knowledge of why the doctor wanted her to handle the crystals. Or, more importantly, what were Dr. Nerval’s plans for them?

“And if I do not?” She turned her back on the crystal to face the doctor. “My father wouldn’t approve of this. He sent me here to be cured of any inclinations to explore Illuminist knowledge.”

Dr. Nerval’s lips curved up slowly, the folds of skin hanging around his mouth crinkling grotesquely. A chill went down her spine because she was quite certain she witnessed a flare of enjoyment in his eyes. A cruel sort of pleasure that promised no mercy.

The matron’s keys jingled as she fitted one into the door and turned it. The burly attendants were still there.

“Take her,” the doctor announced calmly.

Janette almost lost her resolve as panic rushed in along with the men. They grabbed her arms and hauled her out of the chamber. She wanted to resist, but the only true way she might defy the doctor was to deny him seeing her reduced to a screaming lunatic.

The matron hurried ahead of them, flipping through her keys with a skill that proved she performed this task often, then yanked a door open. The attendants pushed Janette through it, both men appearing somewhat confused as she continued to comply with them.

“Miss Janette is suffering from delusions caused by hysteria.”

The doctor’s voice was like an eerie chant coming from behind her as the attendants forced her into a hardwood chair with thick legs and arms. Wide straps of leather were secured to the underside of the armrests, and the men quickly lashed them around her wrists. Each one had a solid brass buckle, and the attendants knew how to use them expertly.

“Hysteria is a very dangerous condition. You should be grateful to your father for bringing you here for treatment,” the doctor informed her gleefully.

“
Grateful
is not the word I would choose to—”

Her words were abruptly silenced when the matron slipped a thick cord of leather-wrapped rope through her open mouth. The woman yanked hard so it slid all the way between Janette’s molars. She gagged twice before mastering the reflex. Meanwhile, the attendants secured her ankles to the chair, and a final strap went around her waist.

“The cure for hysteria is calmness. I do hope you will be more willing to participate in my prescribed treatments when you are released.”

Enjoyment coated his words, but what sickened Janette the most was the complete indifference of the attendants and matron. They performed their duties without even a shred of pity. Once she was unable to move, they left the room. Janette heard the key turning in the lock and tried to maintain her composure.

The silence was nearly deafening. Helplessness slammed into her so hard she fought back tears. She couldn’t escape the horrible truth. She was at the mercy of whatever Dr. Nerval wanted to do to her.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she battled to keep her grip on her emotions. Newspaper articles flashed through her mind with their blood-chilling accounts from those fortunate enough to escape from the care of the mental medical community. Every hour would be awful. Now she was in a chair, but there were cages and restraining jackets and…

No. Stop it.

She needed to focus on her resolve not to aid the doctor. Satisfaction began to burn away her panic, a true sense of pride for having questioned his motives. She wasn’t the simpleton her father had hoped she’d become. No, by God, she had a mind, and she enjoyed using it. She drew in a deep breath and began to recite favorite songs inside her head. She closed her eyes and tried to envision herself near the pump organ in Sophia’s house. She would not give in.

At least not without a damn good fight.

***

The key turned in the lock, and Janette jerked awake. A soft moan was the only sound she could make, but she was powerless to contain it.

She ached—so badly it sent tears into her eyes. Her mouth was dry as a cotton ball. Her tongue felt swollen, and her hands were numb from how tight her bindings were.

She wanted to believe she wasn’t willing to bend.

She forced herself to repeat that over and over as she waited for the door to open. The room was dark now, a thin sliver of moonlight coming in through the window to illuminate the doorknob.

She could endure if they were ready to remove her from the chair.

She heard the key grinding, but the knob never moved.

Tears slid down her cheeks as disappointment crashed into her so hard, she found it difficult to draw breath. She realized the matron wasn’t unlocking her door but one nearby.

How long would they leave her? Until she soiled herself? Until she was so dehydrated she could no longer cry?

Until
you
bend…

She bit into the gag, and pain shot through her jaw. Even those muscles were strained. The foot-wide stripe of moonlight on the floor flickered. She blinked, wondering if dehydration was beginning to play tricks on her. She felt more tears slide down her cheeks.

“I warned you there were things in my world you were better off not knowing, Janette.”

She jumped, every muscle snapping and straining against the leather securing her to the chair.

“Easy…” Darius said quietly.

She tried to turn her head, but the gag held her head in place.

Was
he
real
or
the
cruel
teasing
of
her
desperation?

She struggled against the leather, needing to see him and confirm that he was truly there. That she was truly going to be freed.

“They’ve trussed you up well.”

She felt his fingers seeking out the end of the leather strap on her right wrist, and she trembled. Relief flooded her as she felt him pull back on the leather to release the buckle. A tiny click announced her freedom, and she lifted her arm, impatient to move once more. But the muscles along her arm cramped, and she bit into the gag as pain slashed through her again.

“They left you in that damned chair too long,” he said softly.

She’d heard Darius angry, but this time his harsh tone was on her behalf. She watched him in wonder as he worked to free her from the chair.

“You’re going to hurt, but we can’t linger here. Dr. Nerval is at supper. We have to escape before he checks in on you. I doubt the man will retire without trying to confirm if you are a Pure Spirit.”

He pulled the gag out of her mouth.

“Thank—” Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“No time,” he whispered.

He lifted her up and gently placed her upright. Prickles of pain from returning circulation shot along her limbs. Her feet didn’t perform as she expected, and she stumbled. Darius saved her from tumbling to the floor. He swept her off her feet, and she rose above his shoulders, gasping when his hand cupped her bottom to push her farther up.

“Darius…” This time her tongue worked, but his hand remained in place.

“You can berate me later for my ungentlemanly conduct, but we need to leave immediately,” he muttered. “Grab my hands.”

The voice came from the window. She looked up and saw another man leaning in from the outside. It suddenly made sense. The grating sound had been the iron grate being removed.

She lifted her arms and bit her lip to suffer the pain silently. Her hands were full of tingles as blood began flowing once more, but her grasp was weak. That didn’t stop the man from dragging her up the wall and through the window. Darius aided him by pushing her up.

The night air had never felt so wonderful on her face. For one moment she was hanging half in the building and half out. The windowsill bit into her midsection. Janette welcomed the pain because she was escaping, and there was nothing she wouldn’t suffer to be free of the clinic.

“Down here. I’ll catch you,” the second man assured her from where he stood in the alleyway behind the clinic.

In the moonlight, Darius’s accomplice was only a specter, more ghost than man. But that didn’t stop her from lowering her head so gravity would take her down to where he was. He kept his word, hooking her tumbling body with arms like steel. Her skirts flew up in a tangled mess, and dizziness assaulted her.

“Here now, don’t faint on me.”

“They had the straps too tight,” Darius said. “Fix the iron grate. Let them wonder how she vanished.”

Darius appeared next to her and swept her off her feet once more. This time he cradled her like a child as he walked away from the clinic wall. The street was mostly dark because they were on the back side of the clinic. She heard a set of carriage steps let down, and another unrecognizable man appeared to open the door for Darius.

“How…how did you know where to find me?” Her voice sounded gravelly.

“You can thank your friend Sophia. She marched up to the front doors of the Solitary Chamber and demanded to see me. I believe the doorman let her in because he was afraid she would in fact attack the next member who tried to get past her.” Darius deposited her on a padded seat inside the vehicle. “She has your temperament. I see the reason for your friendship.”

The carriage rocked as the second man climbed in. “They’ll have a fine time deciding how she vanished now. Everything is back in order, not even our footprints left to betray us.” He sat next to Darius, both of them only shadows in the darkness. The door closed quickly behind him, and the carriage steps were pulled up. One of them hit the wall with a fist, and the vehicle jolted forward.

But there was no sound of horses, only a strange hiss and gurgle. Once in motion, there was a smoothness to the ride she’d only felt once before, during winter on the lake in a sled pushed from behind by a boy.

“What…manner of…”

“If you’re set on talking, you need something to ease your throat first.” Darius reached inside his jacket and pulled out a flask. Moonlight came through the windows and flickered off the smooth metal of it.

“Could use a nip of that myself,” his companion announced.

“I am…not…”

“Accustomed to strong spirits? Few ladies are.” Darius cupped her head with a grip that reminded her too much of the way he’d held her while kissing her. Gentle, tender, but firm. Heat surfaced in her cheeks as he placed the flask against her mouth and tipped it up. She caught a whiff of the strong alcohol before it touched her tongue. It was potent enough to send tears to her eyes. It washed across her tongue and left her entire mouth on fire. Janette stiffened and tried to push him away.

“Swallow it, Janette. Your life has changed irreversibly, so toss your rules aside. You need to adjust to the current moment instead of worrying what anyone will think of your actions.”

“Sweet Mary and Joseph!” she exclaimed when he released her. “What a vile concoction.” But it was easing the dryness from her throat, spreading warmth through her chilled limbs and making her feel every ache.

“See? Should have let me have it. After all, I did help rescue her,” his companion interjected.

Darius handed the flask over. “Enjoy.”

The second man took the flask and offered her a salute before taking a swig of it. He seemed to enjoy the burn of the beverage and winked at her after taking a second swallow.

“This is Guardian Lykos Claxton, my counterpart from another Solitary Chamber.”

The vehicle turned a corner, but there was still no sound of horses. “How are we moving?” She grasped the sides of the window and tried to see out.

“There’s my thanks for risking my neck and my new waistcoat,” Lykos muttered. “She isn’t aware I’m alive.”

“Oh.” Janette turned her attention back to her company. “I’m terribly sorry. Thank you. I am deeply indebted to you both.”

“What you are is completely tarnished now,” Darius grumbled. “Return to your father, and he’ll sign the papers to have you lobotomized.”

“I refuse to go back to my father.” Her hands twisted in the fabric of her skirt as the horror of the clinic replayed in her mind. “He gave me to that…
fiend
for treatment, and all Dr. Nerval wanted was for me to handle Deep Earth Crystals. Tell me, my ability to handle the crystals, why is it so important? Unique, perhaps, but nothing a good set of gloves cannot overcome—what is the reason behind all this?”