The Time of the Clockmaker (13 page)

“Supper, my dear. Have supper with me. We need to fill ourselves in on all the goings-on of court, of course.”

I felt my stomach churn. I didn't know whether that was the side-effect growing pain of staying in one time period for too long or if it was just Lady Sutton making my stomach turn.

“Of course . . . ,” I muttered.

“Very well. Supper tonight at seven-thirty. I'll have a maid—”

“Why, my lady, fancy running into you here.”

I recognized the accompanying chuckle and turned to face Richard Holdings yet again.

“Following me?” I murmured. I probably didn't even need to lower my voice on account of how hard of hearing Lady Sutton was.

“Oh! Lord Holdings!” Lady Sutton seemed to be talking louder than before, and I wondered if that was to hear herself speak.

The young man before me, with tousled brown hair that curled on its ends, didn't look like a “Lord Holdings” to me.

“My lady.” His eyes lingered on me before he took a curt bow.

“Lord Holdings, are you acquainted with Lady Eleanor Shelton?”

“I do believe we are acquainted.” His eyes held mine a second longer than necessary, as he took a breath. “Lady Eleanor Shelton.”

“What was that?” Lady Sutton stepped even closer.

“We have been introduced,” he said.

“How marvelous! I was just telling Lady Eleanor that she absolutely must have supper with me. Will you join us?”

“I'm afraid I'll have to miss it tonight. Christopher—”

I saw my opening. “Lady Sutton, regrettably I won't be able to attend either. I had promised Lord Empson that I'd dine with him and his wife.”

“What a shame . . . What a pity! We must simply move it then. Supper is just not the same alone. Let's have dinner together tomorrow afternoon instead.”

Lady Sutton glanced at the two of us to see if we had any objections. Before either of us could open our mouths, she clapped her hands like a child.

“Then it's settled! Lady Eleanor, I'll have a maid fetch you since you don't know the way to my chambers. Lord Holdings, do say hello to your little brother for me.”

“Of course, godmother. Christopher will be pleased that you thought of him.” Richard bowed and took me by the arm.

I thought I might have heard Henley hiss, but it also could have been the wind.

“Well, Lady Eleanor Shelton. Aren't you glad your white knight showed up just in the nick of time?”

“
My
white knight? And why would I be glad?”

“Yes, glad. You do realize that Lady Sutton was already beginning to devour you alive?”

“I wouldn't quite say devour . . . “

“If you didn't notice, that means you were in further than I thought. She had probably already asked you if you had any gossip.”

I thought back to what Lady Sutton had asked me and realized that Richard was probably right. I also looked down and realized that he still hadn't let go of my arm.

“Thank you,” I whispered, trying to pull back.

He finally let go of my arm, and it dropped to my side. “Any time, Lady Eleanor Shelton.”

I rolled my eyes, as I often had with Henley. “You're not
going to let this go, are you?”

“I'm thankful for two things . . . or rather, to two people,” he said. “Whoever did the seating arrangements at the feast and decided to seat me next to you, and Lady Sutton for being the shark she is and letting me come swooping in to save you.”

I couldn't help but laugh at that, and Richard looked as if I had rewarded him with my giggles.

“I had best be going,” I said, awkwardly trying to turn away from him.

“As you wish,” Richard said. “So long as I get to lay eyes on you again, Lady Eleanor.” He mock bowed.

“Eleanor,” I corrected him without thinking.

Richard smiled. “Till we meet again, Eleanor.”

I shook my head and walked off in search of my room.

THIRTEEN

I JUST WISH
I could do something,
Henley said.

“You're doing enough,” I said, though I knew Henley wasn't doing anything at all really. It wasn't his fault that he was in this strange state and couldn't do much of anything. Of course, I now wasn't going to mention that my stomach had begun to churn earlier, maybe beginning the pain associated with staying in one time for too long. I walked across my room to the chests on the other side. “You can't help it.”

That's exactly it! I can't help it. I can't do anything!

I opened the chest closest to me. “I wouldn't say that—”

Then what would you say?

I paused and snapped the chest shut. What would I say?

Henley was trying to help. He really was. I couldn't have claimed the identity of Eleanor Shelton without him. But since then, he had taken a backseat, and I knew he wasn't accustomed to that. I remembered how back in 1904—his time—he had
managed his father's estate and business almost single-handedly. He had decided everything. Yes, he was definitely not used to taking a backseat.

“I don't know what to say.” I admitted. “But I do know that I couldn't have come this far without you.”

Henley remained silent, but I could feel his presence in everything in the room. He filled every corner of the space around me.

You don't understand,
he finally said.

I wanted to tell him that I did, but I held my tongue, waiting for him to say more. He never did.

I sighed, walking up to the bed. Joan had laid out another one of the countess's dresses for me to wear to the supper with Lord Empson. This time the dress was black, just like the countess's other dresses. The white dress I had worn to the feast seemed to be the only non-black dress the countess owned.

I slipped off the dress I had been wearing, and shivered as I felt the cold air hit my shoulders.

In 1904, Henley would have objected to me getting dressed in front of him, and I wouldn't have been comfortable with it either. But we'd both come to terms with it—besides, it wasn't as if he could see anything past my outline.

There was a knock at the door. Joan let herself in.

“My lady, would you like me to assist you?”

“Yes, please.”

I couldn't stand bearing Henley's stubborn silence alone.

Joan's fingers brushed over me as she fitted me into the black dress. For some reason, it felt right. I didn't feel like wearing anything bright tonight.

I walked with Joan to the countess's room. The other ladies
would play cards, but she didn't approve of such things, especially before supper.

The wooden door creaked open, and the room was aglow with candlelight, but the countess was not there.

“Her vanity,” Joan said. She had served the countess for so long that it was as if she could sense the countess's whereabouts without even looking into the room.

Sure enough, the countess was seated in front of the mirror just as she had been when I'd first met her. The burgundy walls of the room glinted like the facets of rubies in the candlelight reflected by the large mirror.

I could see the floral detail of the black lace coming off the countess's shoulders and draping onto the floor. The black flowers fell as if they had been cast down from some sort of dark Garden of Eden. Though perhaps once vibrant, they now fell, lowly and wrinkled, to the floor. They were disgraced in their own eyes, not being able to forget the splendor they'd once held.

The countess held a strand thick with diamonds to her throat. They turned red in the light of the room.

“There comes a moment in your life when you realize that you've lost a certain brightness about you. You see it when you sit in front of the mirror. Others see it in you. Then all you can do is try to replace it.” The countess ran a finger over her diamonds.

I sought her eyes out in the mirror, and they bore back at me, harder than the diamonds.

“I'm sorry about the dress,” she said. “The young should never have to wear black.”

“Youth is relative,” I said.

“That's what I used to think too.” She smiled. “Shall we go?”

She took my arm, as if I were family. I couldn't help but note that this was the warmest thing she had done since I got here.

“The Countess Grenville and Lady Shelton to see you.”

Outside in the corridor, the countess gave me a sour look, and I could tell she wasn't exactly looking forward to dinner.

The servant who announced us must have been standing directly on the other side of the door. His was the only voice I could make out clearly.

There was a short pause and the door opened.

“My lord Empson.” The countess strode out in front of me.

“Aunt Marian.” Lord Empson was not to be outdone. He came forward with his arms outstretched. “I am so glad you could join us.”

“Nonsense. Of course I would join you for supper. It's been too long. You would think we live in entirely different countries with how often I get to see you.”

A woman in the back of the room was observing the whole scene. She looked utterly detached and I wondered if I had the same blank mien that she had. It was as if she didn't bother to put on an expression because she knew that this wasn't about her and she was merely an outsider looking in.

“Lady Eleanor!”

A smile flickered easily enough onto my face.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Might I introduce to you my dear wife?”

The woman behind Lord Empson stepped forward. A sweet
smile was stitched across her face as if it had always been there.

“Pleasure,” she murmured.

“Margarite, this is the daughter of Lord Nicholas Reginald Shelton.”

“Pleasure,” she murmured again.

That was all she ever seemed to say. Lord Empson went on to describe bits of my upbringing and the circumstances that had led me to being here, and Lady Empson just sat there. It became apparent that Lady Empson counterbalanced her husband's wordiness. Lady Empson was apt at doing two things: pressing her stiff, thin lips together and uttering one-word responses to her husband's monologues. I wondered if she was actually listening or if she had been taught that this was the way to feign interest and be a suitable enough mealtime companion.

“Come, come. Why don't we sit down?”

I followed Lord Empson through doors on the other side of the room. The countess kept close, and Lady Empson trailed along with the footmen.

The dining room was paneled in wood, just as I had seen in the other rooms of the palace. The walls and ceiling had arched designs carved into the dark wood. I assumed it was the style of the period. I wondered what they would think of stick-on wallpaper.

In the middle of the room was a small but ornately set table. Silver candlesticks were placed evenly every few place settings on the table.

We sat; the countess was across from me, and Lord and Lady Empson were at either end of the table. The backs of the chairs curved in, almost hunching me over the table.

“Though I am far from being the king of England, we have only the best for our most special guest.” With a practiced flourish, Lord Empson gestured to the waiting servants to start presenting the food.

And it really was
presented.
Each plate shone with a myriad of sauces covering the pheasant, venison, and other meats. They kept coming. Each dish was on its own plate, displayed on the small table with its own flourish. Of course they were all cold, as I supposed there was no known way of keeping food warm yet. I smiled to myself, wondering what the countess's reaction would be to seeing a microwave work.

I spotted Lord Empson eyeing me from his side of the table. I hoped I looked appropriately impressed.

“So do tell me,” Lord Empson said, just as I had stuck a piece of meat into my mouth. “How are you finding court?”

I could almost feel the countess's stare as I tried to chew and swallow without spewing my food.

“Very well.”

“Just very well?”

I didn't know what he was probing for, so I simply nodded. “Yes, very well.”

Giving me a sidelong glance, the countess answered for me. “Sir Gordon promptly attached himself to her last night, as leechlike as ever. He introduced her to Lady Simnel and that sort. I thought he'd never leave us.”

As I remembered it, the countess was the one who had introduced me to Sir Gordon in the first place, but she seemed to not find it necessary to mention.

“Ah, of course he would,” Lord Empson said.

The countess went on to list names of people I had been introduced to. Some names sounded familiar, while others drew up nothing in my jumble of memories. I found it curious to note that not once did she mention Lord Dormer's name.

“I see that Lady Eleanor is getting acquainted with court rather quickly,” Lord Empson said. He spoke of me as if I were not in the room.

“Why, yes. She needs to be introduced to the right people. She's having to catch up, given the timing of her arrival,” the countess said.

I looked across the table at Lady Empson to see if she had something to say about me as well, but she kept her tranquil, tight-lipped smile fixed.

“I agree with you, Aunt Marian . . . for once.” Lord Empson looked away, but I thought I saw him roll his eyes. “Eleanor needs to find some leverage, and that leverage will only come by her increasing her standing with others.” Finally, he turned to me. “Now tell me, have you been introduced to anyone else? Did Sir Gordon do anything more useful than leer at you?”

I suppressed a shudder and tried to think back to the names that the countess had listed.

“I-I don't think so.”

“You don't
think
? What do you mean you don't
think
so?” Lord Empson massaged his temples.

My stomach hurt, but that was just dinner, right?

“Lady Sutton,” I said, remembering the strange woman in the gardens. “And Lord Holdings, I believe.” I wasn't going to add his name, but something made me include him.

“That old gossip?” the countess said. “Sir Gordon must
have been running out of people to make that introduction. She's absolutely tasteless, not to mention without manners. No one knows if that woman is actually hard of hearing or if she just likes to hear herself talk over others. She doesn't have one ounce of refinement in that—”

“Lord Holdings?” Lord Empson stopped massaging his temples. “What a strange introduction. Who introduced you?”

“We were seated next to each other at the opening feast, but Lady Sutton made the formal introductions later on.”

“Lady Sutton . . . Why, yes, I do believe she's of some relation to the Holdings. I believe she's their sons' godmother. If they hadn't fallen out of favor with the king, I don't think they would have had to stoop so low . . .”

Lord Empson trailed off and I craned over the table to hear him. I knew I shouldn't be that interested and mentally chastised myself when I found myself feeling glad that Lord Empson offered additional information.

“Though I do believe having a relationship with Lady Sutton has come in handy for them. I doubt they would have been able to secure an apprenticeship with the royal alchemist himself for their fourth son if it hadn't been for her. That's the only upside of having someone so nosy around you.”

I wondered if Richard was that fourth son. He had mentioned that he had a younger brother—Christopher.

“Alchemy?” I tried to probe.

“Witchcraft,” the countess pronounced. “Absolutely immoral.”

“No one cares if it's immoral except you, Aunt Marian.” Lord Empson threw up his hands. “Gold! Gold from something
as easy to obtain as this.” He grabbed at a brass candlestick. “Imagine multiplying and creating gold whenever you saw fit.”

“You never cared before for what I saw as seemly,” the countess said softly. “If you could create gold out of practically anything, maybe you could finally quit business. If you quit now, there's a chance that you might have some sense of propriety left.”

Lord Empson didn't say anything as the countess spoke. He gripped the table with both hands, as if stabilizing himself.

“Marian, let's not do this now—”

“So it's Marian now? Not aunt?” The countess looked directly at him.

Lady Empson looked so pale she was almost translucent.

“Marian, I know you disapprove—”

“Disapprove! That's putting it lightly! I
disapprove
of someone like Lady Sutton. This . . . this is dragging our family into the mud. If my husband—”

“Go ahead,” Lord Empson said. His voice was shaking only slightly, but that was all that betrayed his emotion. “Say it.”

When the countess looked up, I was surprised to see stark fear on her face. The whites of her eyes seemed to engulf her irises, and her body shrank away from him.