The Inventor's Secret (11 page)

“Mmmm.” Lord Ott nodded, folding his hands around
his keg of a belly. “I’ve heard there’s a renewed fear that
the French will strike at the islands rather than along the
Mississippi.”
“It’s hard to know what rumors have substance when it
comes to France’s intentions,” Jack replied.
“And the Resistance, of course?” Lord Ott continued.
“No telling what those rascals are up to.”
“No good, to be sure,” Jack said, taking a sip of wine.
Ott smiled before he said, “If a storm’s to come, may
the wind be with us.”
Jack stiffened, but he tipped his goblet toward Lord
Ott. “May the wind be with us.”
As servants appeared to whisk away porcelain dishes,
Lady Ott clucked her tongue. “The men will no doubt
spend the entirety of dinner discussing this dreadful war.
We need not bother; let’s talk of pleasant things. Tell me,
Miss Marshall, have you had any suitors?”
Two thoughts jumped into Charlotte’s head. The first:
she didn’t find talk of the war at all dreadful. She was
rather desperate to hear it. The second: she had no idea
how to answer Lady Ott’s question.
The waiter placed a steaming bowl of cream-based fish
soup before Charlotte as she tried to come up with an answer.
“No need to confess my dear,” Lady Ott said, taking
Charlotte’s delayed response as reluctance. “I’ve no doubt
that a bevy of gentlemen have pressed for your hand. However, I must commend your father’s patience. No need to
pass you off to an islander before you’ve taken your turn
about the city.”
Charlotte decided that nodding was her best course.
Lady Ott rewarded her with a beatific smile. “What
would you prefer? Would you like to be a plantation mistress? Or have you longed to join the esteemed ladies who
stroll the golden streets of the Colonial Platform?”
What strange choices Charlotte had in the fictional life
of Lady Charlotte Marshall. Did the sum of her existence
lie solely in whom she married? Charlotte had never imagined either possibility that Lady Ott had presented. One
life on an island with a fortune tied to sugarcane harvests.
Another in the colony’s greatest metropolis. But both were
tied to the identity of her imaginary husband—who he was
seemed to matter a great deal more than anything about
Lady Charlotte Marshall.
Without meaning to, Charlotte found herself glancing
at Jack. He was deep in conversation with Lord Ott. Charlotte turned back when she heard Lady Ott draw a sharp
breath.
“I’d advise against it, sweetling,” Lady Ott said, shaking her head. “No matter how dashing, an officer will
always be away, and you’ll find yourself quite lonely. My
husband travels the world for commerce, but he always
takes me along on these mercantile adventures.”
She nodded in Jack’s direction. “That one won’t show
you the world. A wife is not taken to war.”
Charlotte felt blood draining from her cheeks. Had she
linked husbands and Jack in the same thought?
Watching the younger woman’s face pale, Lady Ott
patted Charlotte’s hand. “Oh dear, dear. I didn’t mean to
upset you. Of course it’s only natural to become attached
to the young officer who has escorted you from your father’s estate to the city. But believe me, Miss Marshall,
when you make your debut, you’ll find the young men will
be clamoring to catch your eye. As my husband would say,
you shouldn’t make a purchase until you’ve surveyed all
the merchandise.”
Managing a nod and a weak smile, Charlotte turned
her attention to her soup. Though delicious, the heavy
cream settled poorly in her stomach. After a few spoonfuls, Charlotte pushed her plate away. A waiter appeared
instantly to remove her bowl.
“A delicate appetite, eh?” Lord Ott broke off his conversation with Jack to address Charlotte.
Jack snorted, but quickly faked a sneeze. Charlotte
pursed her lips, but didn’t give him the dagger-glare she
wanted to. They both knew that Charlotte’s appetite was
anything but delicate. She always came back from scouting trips and scavenging runs absolutely ravenous. But the
strange surroundings of the ship and excessive richness of
the food were tempering her hunger.
“Perhaps the next course will be more to your liking,”
Lord Ott offered as new dishes were placed before them.
Steaming slices of roast pork, a generous pour of gravy,
and spiced baked apples had been heaped upon the plates.
Charlotte doubted she’d manage more than a bite or two.
Charlotte leaned over to Jack. “How many courses are
there?”
“Four,” Jack replied. “Five if you count the cheese and
fruit course that comes after dessert.”
“
After
dessert?” Charlotte rested her hand on her stomach. How could anyone eat like this on a regular basis?
A bell toned throughout the dining room. All around
them applause broke out and diners rose from their chairs.
“What’s happening?” Charlotte asked.
“They’ve sighted New York.” Lord Ott stood and came
to Charlotte, offering his hand.
“You don’t mind, lad?” he asked Jack.
“No, my lord,” Jack replied. “I’ve no doubt you’re a
better man to introduce Miss Marshall to the city than I.
And I’ll take advantage of my chance to speak with your
lovely wife.”
Lady Ott giggled and accepted Jack’s arm.
They left the table and walked the short distance to
gaze out the giant viewing portal. Though the ship was
still well away from the city, even at a distance New York
rose up against the dark of sea and sky like a great heap of
gold and jewels hoarded in the shadows of some dragon’s
lair.
“Athene’s helm,” Charlotte breathed, forgetting herself.
Lady Ott gasped and covered her mouth. Jack cast a
reprimanding glance at Charlotte, but Lord Ott guffawed.
“Never mind my wife, Miss Marshall.” Lord Ott smiled
generously at Charlotte, then smirked at Jack. “They make
them saucier in the islands, don’t they lad.”
“Indeed, sir.” Jack nodded solemnly, and Charlotte decided she was going to have to keep a running list of affronts to yell at him for when they were alone.
“The Floating City of New York.” Lord Ott moved
his hand across the portal as if opening a curtain. “The
wonder of the Empire. Jewel of the colonies. A marvel of
art and engineering, its Great Wheels of Fortune connect
five floating platforms. Each platform hovers at a different
height, and of course, the closer one lives to the heavens,
the higher one’s station on this good earth. New York is
the only city in the world that floats thus, gazing down on
the world just as the Empire watches over its citizens.”
“It’s extraordinary,” Charlotte said, though she didn’t
know if she was captivated or frightened by the sight.
“You think it’s stunning from here, my lady,” Lord Ott
said. “But I’d wager you shall nigh faint at New York’s
glory when you walk the gilded streets of the Colonial
Platform and marvel at the wonders of the Arts Platform.”
“I hope I will not faint, my lord,” Charlotte replied.
“Lest I miss any of the brilliance of the Floating City.”
“That’s a good girl.” Lord Ott winked at her. Leaning closer, he whispered, “And if you can sneak away from
your watchful soldier, you must visit the Tinkers’ Faire.
Once they find you a husband, he’ll doubtless forbid you
from frequenting that motley place. But I say innocence is
overrated, and you’d have a damn good time in the Commons. Have your fun before you’re put on display in some
colonial mansion.”
His words perplexed Charlotte, but it seemed like he
expected her to blush, so she tried to make her laughter
sound scandalized and she lowered her eyelashes.
“We should return to the table,” Lady Ott announced.
“Our meats grow cold while we dally. We’ll dock at the
city soon enough.”
Lord Ott began to lead Charlotte back to her seat, but
she pulled away. “Pardon me, Lord and Lady Ott, but I’m
afraid the excitement of seeing New York has affected me.
I must return to my stateroom and lie down.”
Charlotte had been worried her departure would cause
a fuss, but her dining companions took the news calmly.
“Of course, dear.” Lady Ott patted Charlotte’s cheek.
“These travels are always trying to one’s constitution. And
it being your first, you must be simply overwhelmed.”
Charlotte nodded, though she couldn’t believe how
silly these Imperial ladies must be that they could plead
faintness so easily.
“I’ll see you back to your rooms.” Jack moved toward
Charlotte, but she stepped away.
“No, thank you.” Charlotte waved him off. “I can find
my own way. Please enjoy the rest of dinner.”
Those words made Lord Ott’s eyebrows lift, but Charlotte turned her back on them before anyone could make
further comment. She forced herself to depart at a steady
pace until she was out of the dining room and up the stair.
But when she reached the upper hall and found it empty,
she ran.

HEN CHARLOTTE REACHED
her stateroom, she discovered she wasn’t
alone. Ashley sat in a stiff-backed chair
alongside a writing table. It was obvious he’d been waiting for her.

“It was a bit much for me,” Charlotte admitted. “Do
people in the city really eat five courses every night?”
Ash smirked. “The ones living on the top platforms
do. Excess is the benchmark of Imperial success. But those
at the bottom of the city are pretty much scavenging like
we are.” He looked expectantly at the open door behind
Charlotte. “Where’s Jack?”

“Still at dinner,” Charlotte said. “He’s chatting up
some bigwig merchant.”

“Fair enough,” Ash shrugged. “Close the door, Charlotte.”
She complied and then looked at her brother expectantly. Ash withdrew a slender object from his jacket.
“I should have given you this before we left the Catacombs,” Ash told her. “But I got distracted. Here.”
Charlotte took the object from him. Silver glinted at
the end Charlotte grasped, and the rest of the piece was
sheathed in leather. Guessing what it was, Charlotte drew
the blade free. It was barely longer than her palm.
“You want me to take up needlework?” Charlotte
teased.
Ash offered a flat smile. “It might not be Pocky, but if
you stab a man in the eye with that, it will kill him quickly
enough.”
“And messily enough,” Charlotte added.
“You’ll be able to hide it easily under your skirt,” Ash
said. “There’s a small loop on the sheath. Tie the blade to
your calf with a leather cord.”
Charlotte set the stiletto aside and sat on the chaise
longue. “How are the others?”
“Grave is odd as ever, but at least he knows enough to
keep quiet,” Ash said. His voice softened. “And Meg is . . .
Meg. I should get back to them. It’s unseemly for servants
to loiter in their masters’ staterooms.”
“All these rules make my head ache.” Charlotte dropped
back against the chaise, throwing her arm over her eyes.
Ash laughed quietly. “Just be thankful you don’t have
to haul that trunk around. I could swear Jack filled it with
bricks and not dresses.”
Charlotte heard the door open, then Ash asked, “Do
you want me to have Meg bring you a tonic?”
“No,” she answered, without moving her arm off her
closed eyes. “I just need to sit quietly, and I’ll be fine.”
The door clicked shut, and Charlotte discovered that
her last words to Ash had been a lie, at least in part. Though
Charlotte’s headache departed after a bit of sitting in the
silence of her room, a new restlessness seized her. She took
a few turns around the lavishly appointed stateroom. She
considered reading one of the books that lined the built-in
shelves, but they all appeared to be stories of the Empire’s
glory, and Charlotte felt she’d had her fill of that tonight.
Despite the spacious accommodations, as Charlotte
paced the stateroom, she felt oddly confined. The weight
of satin and velvet upholstery, the heaviness of carved ebony paneled walls, began to press in on her. She needed to
get out of that room and drink in fresh air. Charlotte fled
and wandered the ship’s halls until she found a staircase
that she followed up until she reached the
Hector
’s promenade deck.
A canopy attempted to shield the deck from the massive
balloons that held the ship aloft, but the thin veil did little
to muffle the roar whenever new bursts of burning air shot
up into the balloons. Charlotte walked to the edge of the
deck where the high iron railing curved up and in, reaching
well over her head, doubtless to keep a sudden gust of wind
from pushing a hapless passenger over the side of the ship.
The sky had turned to ink above, and stars speckled
the heavens. She walked along the rail, much preferring the
wind in her hair and the open space of the promenade to
the interior of the ship.
“Enjoying an evening stroll, miss?”
Charlotte pivoted to find a uniformed man approaching. She stiffened until he was close enough that shadows
no longer hid his face.
“Jack.” She laughed nervously. “I still hardly recognize
you in that get up.”
“That makes two of us,” he said.
Running her palms over the silk of her skirts, Charlotte
said, “I suppose I look ridiculous.”
“Not at all,” Jack replied. “The current fashions suit
you. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you were one of the
girls I grew up with.”
“What were they like . . . the girls you knew?” Charlotte’s skin prickled as she asked the question. She wasn’t
certain she wanted to know the answer.
Jack shook his head. “Not worth talking about. There’s
something I want to show you.”
He crooked his elbow toward her.
Charlotte frowned at the gesture. “What are you doing?”
“Offering you my arm. I thought you’d be used to that
by now.”
“But we’re alone,” Charlotte countered.
When Charlotte continued to frown at Jack, he snickered. “It’s expected. Besides, Ash shouldn’t have let you
wander above deck alone. Young ladies of good breeding
don’t go without an escort. Meg should be with you. Or
Ash.”
“I don’t think Ash is taking to his role.” Charlotte
laughed.
Jack smiled at her. “No doubt. Now take my arm, and
we’ll have a proper turn about the foredeck . . . and then
some.”
“And then some?”
“You’ll see,” Jack replied, then wagged his elbow at her.
Charlotte slipped her arm through Jack’s. He brought
his elbow back to his side, drawing her close beside him.
The wool of his jacket scratched her skin, but Charlotte
didn’t mind. She noticed how she could feel the warmth of
his body through the fabric, a sharp contrast to the rapidly
cooling night air.
Jack guided Charlotte up the deck to the fore of the
ship. He stopped in front of a metal hutch that reminded
her a bit of the Catacombs’ wheelhouse. Jack rapped on
the hutch door, and a man whose clothing marked him a
member of the ship’s crew stepped out. Taking in Jack’s
uniform, the crewman straightened up and saluted.
“May I be of assistance, sir?”
“I hope you may,” Jack said. He stepped forward and
said something in tones too low for Charlotte to hear.
The crewman glanced at Charlotte, smirked, and told
Jack, “Of course, sir. Go on up.”
Jack took Charlotte’s hand and led her into the hutch.
Its resemblance to the wheelhouse was even more striking
on the inside. Charlotte recognized the engineering of a
line and pulley system, but while the baskets in the Catacombs departed and arrived outside the control room, this
hutch contained a small basket that was only half enclosed.
Charlotte glanced back toward the door. The crewman
leered at her, and she quickly turned away.
“What in Athene’s name did you say to him?” she asked
Jack.
Jack stepped into the basket and helped Charlotte in
after. “Something that would get us in here.”
The metal weave that edged the basket rose only to
her knees, and the round platform upon which they stood
was barely large enough to accommodate two people. Jack
reached to a crank on the hutch wall and gave it half a
dozen rapid turns.
“You’ll want to hold on to me,” Jack said as the basket
lurched upward.
Charlotte had little choice but to do as he said. She
wrapped her arms around Jack, hanging on tight as the
line dragged the basket away from the deck and up into the
sky. The wind tore strands of hair free of Meg’s carefully
placed pins to whip Charlotte’s cheeks.
Up and up and up they went, slowing only when they’d
reached the height of the great balloons.
“Here we are,” Jack announced.
Charlotte blinked away the tears that the wind had
pulled from her eyes during their rapid ascent. The basket
swayed as Jack tethered it to the brass rail that ringed the
lookout station.
“Welcome to the crow’s nest,” Jack told Charlotte.
“The finest spot on a bloat float like the
Hector.
”
Charlotte laughed as she stepped onto the crow’s nest.
She was grateful for its stability in comparison to the constant swaying of the transport basket.
“A bloat float?” she repeated.
“You think a beast of a ship like this has any maneuverability?” Jack answered. “There’s a reason cows don’t have
wings. It’s common knowledge at the air academy that
this is the assignment for pilots who don’t show promise
enough to merit a combat rank. I’d sooner serve a sentence
in Boston than captain one of these.”
“Don’t say that,” Charlotte said with a shudder. “Nothing is worse than Boston.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack replied quickly. “Of course you’re
right.”
He took her hand and led her to the opposite side of the
lookout. From their new vantage point, the Floating City
glittered, its mélange of colors and lights beckoning. But
the city’s allure couldn’t compete with the sky that spread
above them with its infinite stars.
Casting a sidelong glance at Jack, Charlotte saw that
his eyes were fixed on the sky, and she joined him in quiet
stargazing. Her fingers were still laced in his. She wondered
if he could feel the way her pulse stuttered at her wrist.
After a long silence, Jack squeezed her hand. “No matter what contraption the Tinkers are touting as their latest breakthrough, it’s the stars that guide us. They always
will. At the academy you have to memorize star charts before you ever board an aircraft.”
Charlotte heard the longing in Jack’s voice. She lifted
her free hand, moving her fingers through the air as if the
constellations were a delicate pattern of lace she could
touch. The open sky beckoned to her. She wished she were
weightless and floating ever up into the softly gleaming expanse.
“I could stay up here forever,” she breathed. “How did
you leave this? This endless sky. Your own ship. All traded
for our life in the Catacombs, buried under rock and water. A life where we almost never see the stars.”
“Because it isn’t the stars that give orders,” he said quietly. “If they did, then maybe I would have stayed.”
They turned toward each other in the same moment.
Charlotte went very still, not knowing what to do. Her
blood thrummed with each heartbeat.
Jack reached out, snatching a loose tendril of Charlotte’s dark hair from the wind’s grasp. He tucked the stray
lock behind her ear. His thumb grazed her cheek and lingered there.
“Jack,” Charlotte whispered. She had nothing else to
say, but she’d wanted to speak his name while he was close.
While he was touching her.
Jack broke their gaze. “We should head back down.
The night watch will be coming up soon.”
Disappointment rattled through Charlotte’s bones, but
she nodded as Jack led her to the basket. She was relieved
to see that he would control their descent with a handbrake, and she hoped that meant the trip down wouldn’t
be at the breakneck pace of the ascent.
“You should hold on.” Jack’s voice was hoarse, and
Charlotte felt his body tense when she slipped her arms
around him. She was desperate to know what he was
thinking. Did Jack suddenly not want to be alone with her?
But hadn’t he been the one to seek her out and bring her
to this place, so isolated and beautiful? Charlotte’s mind
swam with questions, and her rapid pulse refused to abate.
Jack released the lever very slowly and they began to
drift away from the crow’s nest toward the deck. His face
was turned from her so she looked at him in profile, but
she could see his frustration in the way his jaw twitched.
His fingers closed on the brake, slowing them even more.
Slowing the basket until they stopped completely.
“Jack,” Charlotte murmured his name once more, but
this time followed it with a question. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at her and drew a slow
breath. His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and stayed
there.
Her heart jumped as she asked, “Do you want to kiss
me?”
His fist clamped down hard on the brake and they came
to a stop, hanging in space between the ship’s deck and the
crow’s nest.
“I shouldn’t kiss you,” he said, still looking at her
mouth.
She smiled slightly. “Because of Ash?”
“That’s one reason,” he replied with a half smile that
quickly vanished. “But not the most important one. There
are others.”
What other reasons?
Charlotte searched Jack’s face for
an answer, but found none.
Suspended in the cool night air, they began to spin as
if they were dancing without moving their feet. She didn’t
want to leave this moment. She wanted to float in the sky
in Jack’s arms as long as she could. The swell of feeling
threw Charlotte off balance. This was Jack. Jack, who
could rarely be anything other than annoying. Jack, whom
she’d sworn not to speak to for at least a month last year,
but who had then made her so angry she’d had to yell at
him. Who teased her at any opportunity. But with utter
clarity, Charlotte became aware in that moment how much
she adored all those things about him.
What had provoked this sudden turn of her heart?
Charlotte wanted to believe she wasn’t a ninny enough to
swoon at Jack’s dapper uniform, nor pine after him because of his secret past.
A voice deep inside her whispered that the turn should
be viewed as neither surprising nor sudden; that Charlotte
knew well enough that her scorn for Jack had long served
as a shield against much more dangerous sentiments. Jack
challenged her, treated her as a worthy opponent in wit
and war. He made her blood boil, but it was with a heat
she longed for in ways she was only beginning to comprehend.
Though she was already holding on to Jack, she pulled
herself closer still. “I didn’t ask if you should. I asked if you
wanted to.”
The arm Jack held her with tightened and she was fitted against his body. She could feel his warmth pushing
away the brisk wind.
“I want to, Charlotte.”
Jack is going to kiss me,
Charlotte thought. She was
uncomfortably aware of how very much she wanted him
to. More than she could stand. Charlotte closed her eyes
and lifted her chin.
The only kiss came from the cool wind that touched
her lips. The handbrake squeaked and then the wind was
rushing over them as they sailed, down, down, down to the
deck far below.
Charlotte’s eyes flew open as they hit the deck hard. She
would have fallen, but Jack still held her tight against him.
“Everything all right, sir?” The crewman was standing
in the hutch’s doorway.
Charlotte turned her back on Jack and pushed her way
past the crewman. Not caring if she drew attention to herself, Charlotte ran down the deck. She heard Jack calling
her name, but she didn’t slow.
She’d almost reached the staircase that would let her
escape the deck, when Jack caught her arm. He wheeled
her around.
“Charlotte, don’t do this,” he hissed at her. “Calm
down.”
“Calm down?” It was all Charlotte could do not to
screech. “What was that? Why did you take me up there?”
Jack wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Because I wanted to
show you something I love. Because . . . I want you.”