The Time of the Clockmaker (14 page)

By now, the pain in my stomach grew into a sort of pressure. I felt faint, but I had to control it.

“Say it.” It sounded like a warning now. “By God, if you're going to criticize me, say it!” Lord Empson abruptly stood up, jostling the table.

The ache around my middle became a sharp pang.

The countess's face matched the white linen napkins on our
laps. Her lips parted but moved soundlessly.

“‘If my husband were here,' isn't that what you wanted to say?” A vein protruded near Lord Empson's neck as he gritted his teeth. “Isn't that what you always say? Marian, he isn't here. Since he's been gone, it's only been me. I know you abhor even the idea of business. I know you think land is the only respectable stock, but Marian, you've got to see that this is the only way we can preserve the family. As the head of this family, I am doing all that is necessary to preserve it.”

The countess stayed silent as Lord Empson sat down. Lady Empson picked at the threads in her napkin.

“Bring out the dessert pastries.”

Even when we returned to our rooms, the countess didn't say more than two words. It was so unlike her and so unsettling that I excused myself for bed right after our return.

“I wanted to let you know that your dresses have arrived,” Helen was saying. “I just put them away this morning.”

Now, stretched out on my bed, I watched the room through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Yes, yes. Thank you,” I muttered. I don't know if she heard me as she scuttled out.

Finally alone in my room, I took a deep breath. That dinner had taken a lot out of me, and I found myself too tired to even talk to Henley. He seemed to understand that and kept to himself. My stomach pains—a physical reminder that I had to leave soon—had been exacerbated by dinner. I had to lie down before Henley saw that something was wrong.

The edges of the curtains billowed out and in as if the room
itself were taking easy breaths. I sank into the mattress, and all the pent-up emotion and fatigue seemed to seep out of me.

After I closed my eyelids, it only took a few breaths to calm my wandering eyes. Soon they stopped moving and I fell into a deep, all-consuming sleep.

And then it happened.

My eyes shot open, but it was so dark that everything looked the same as it had when I had my eyes closed. There was a heavy weight on my chest and something was pressed over my mouth. I tried to yell for Henley, but my voice came out muffled. Someone was smothering me.

My hands shot out from under the covers and pushed. I shoved at the person on top of me. I shoved at the pillow now laid completely over my head, obscuring my vision. He was too strong. I was completely pinned down. And that was it. I was going to die.

Rebecca!

My head throbbed and my blood seemed to thump in my brain. I felt woozy and wondered if I had passed out.

Rebecca! Stay with me.

The weight on my body seemed to shift back and forth.

I was confused. I had already given up. Why wasn't I dead yet?

The weight on my body now shifted drastically. The pressure on the pillow momentarily lifted and I gulped in air. I couldn't see anything with part of the pillow still on my eyes, but something was different.

There was a large crash followed by a thud, and my lungs suddenly expanded. They burned as if I had been held underwater,
but I was all right.

“My lady! Is everything all right?” Helen flew into the room with a candle.

I sat up, and the pillow easily slipped off my face. There was no one else in the room except for me and Helen.

“Is everything all right?” she repeated.

I surveyed the damage. Apart from the pillow now on my lap, and a washbowl of water that had tipped over from the bedside table, everything looked normal.

“What was that commotion?” The countess swept into the room still in her nightgown. Joan followed close behind with extra candles.

“Nothing,” I mumbled. “I just fell out of my bed. Bad dream. That's all.”

Helen looked worriedly at the countess, who in turn inspected my face.

The countess frowned. “Just make sure it doesn't happen again,” she called over her shoulder as she left.

“Yes, my lady.”

I insisted I was so tired that I wanted Helen to leave the tipped washbowl until morning.

“Are you sure, my lady? It'll be—”

“Yes, yes. I'm terribly tired and out of sorts. I would much prefer it if you cleaned up the mess in the morning.”

After getting her to agree, I waited until both Helen and Joan had left before talking to Henley.

Are you all right?
Henley asked before I could.

“Yes—” I walked over to the far wall. There was a small dent and what looked like a smear of blood. Henley must have
thrown the attacker.

Are you sure, Rebecca? You still look pale.

“Who wouldn't after being attacked by a stranger like that? One who vanished before I could see him?”

By a stranger? What makes you say that?

I paused. “I don't know!” I was still catching my breath.

It could be a stranger,
Henley began,
but it could also easily be someone you know. It was so dark and I wasn't focusing hard enough to see—

“What? Someone like Lord Empson rushed in here in the middle of the night to suffocate me while I was technically in his care? Or better yet, the countess tried to smother me with a pillow in her own chambers, but then, failing, goes out and comes back in to look sympathetic?”

You never know . . .

I threw my hands up. “What happened in here?”

It was dark . . .

“You mean it was dark
again.”
I thought back to the time in the hotel when an intruder came in. That was the reason I was in this mess in the first place.

So you think it's the same person?

“It must have been. That's the only way I can see it. This wasn't some petty theft. Whoever it was tried to kill me. That was their first and only motive.”

What I don't understand is that he didn't break in.

I looked toward the windows. Henley was right; none of them were shattered and the latches didn't look broken.

That means the attacker must have come in through the door.

“But anyone could have come in through the door,” I said, turning the doorknob. “See, it doesn't even have a lock.”

I remembered feeling surprised that the door didn't have a lock when Joan had first shown me the room I was to be staying in. “How else do you think we could come in if something were ever to be the matter?” she had said. And she was right.

Anyone who didn't look out of place,
Henley corrected.

“It's late at night . . . or maybe even early in the morning. There isn't anyone here to think someone looks suspicious.”

And that, my dear, is where you're wrong.

It was so like Henley to tease, even in a grave situation like this one.

This is court. There are always people about. People who never mind their own business.

Standing by the door, I heard faint sounds of music and laughter.

“I guess you're right there.”

Someone's not used to admitting defeat.
I knew that Henley would have a triumphant grin on his face, were I able to see it.

I ignored his comment. “Where does that put us?”

Well, someone is after you. That someone was probably the person who attacked you in the hotel, and probably has the clock. That person is also probably the same one who killed my— Miss Hatfield. And since that person's in this time period, I think it's safe to say that he's immortal. And definitely out to kill you.

I clasped my hands to keep them from shaking. I didn't want Henley to notice. “Oh, great. That's uplifting. Thanks.”

FOURTEEN

I WOKE TO
a sharp knock at the door. The sound seemed to echo in my head and shake me awake.

“Yes? Come in,” I mumbled into my pillow, but then resolved to at least sit up.

“I'm so sorry to wake you, my lady.”

Seeing that it was just Helen, I slumped back onto the bed.

“I'm terribly sorry,” she began again. “But you've been sleeping quite late . . . and Lady Sutton sent one of her women for you . . .”

I sat bolt upright.

“What time is it?” I squinted at Helen, who was now quickly opening the curtains. She moved at a faster rate than I was accustomed to seeing from her, and that made me think I had slept in more than I had intended.

“Noon, my lady.”

“My God, noon?” I sprang out of bed, not caring that I
shocked Helen with my profanity. “Helen, please help me get ready. I had promised Lady Sutton I would take dinner with her.”

After her standard “Yes, my lady,” Helen set to work pulling a black dress onto me and somehow managing to make my hair look presentable.

Miss Hatfield had always told me that to survive in a different time period, looking the part was almost half the battle.

“Ouch.”

The hairbrush Helen was wielding snagged my hair.

“I'm
so
sorry, my lady.”

“No matter,” I said quickly. Helen looked terrified, thinking that she had inflicted lasting pain upon me, and I wanted to calm her down. “I would just like to get ready quickly. I'm sure Lady Sutton's woman does not want to wait any more than she already has.”

“Yes, my lady.” She went about tidying the folds of my dress. Upon finishing, she stood to the side. “Should I call Lady Sutton's woman in?”

“No, no,” I said. “I'll just meet her in the sitting room. You may go.”

Helen looked surprised by what I said, but nevertheless curtseyed and left.

In truth, I wanted a second with Henley before I left for Lady Sutton's.

Are you sure this is wise?
Henley asked as soon as I heard the door close.

“Going to Lady Sutton's for lunch?”

Someone tried to kill you only last night.

“And that's precisely why I need to go. I'm not going to give whoever this is the satisfaction of terrifying me. Besides, it's not as if I'm safer in my room.”

What about the fact that you're going to Lady Sutton's for lunch when you should be looking for the clock?

“What about that? We've established that it's not in the countess's possessions. Now I just have to start looking around court, unless you have any better ideas.”

Henley didn't reply, but I knew he was deep in thought.

“And what easier way is there to snoop around than to actually be invited?”

Easier than breaking in, that's for sure.

With that, I started for the door.

Just promise me you'll watch out for yourself.

“I'll try.”

Trying isn't good enough.

“Isn't watching your job?”

Henley didn't respond. I didn't know if it was because he had nothing to say or if it was because I was already out the door amid people who might overhear.

In the sitting room, I found the woman who I assumed to be Lady Sutton's maid, standing in a room full of chairs. Each chair was empty, yet she chose to stand perfectly still in the corner of the room.

“My lady.” She dropped into a deep curtsey on seeing me enter the room.

“I hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long.”

She smiled, not meeting my eyes, but didn't respond. She merely opened the door and began leading me silently down the
corridors.

Since it was the middle of the day and, as the countess had put it, the palace was “the center of culture, the learned world, and everything else besides Paris,” the corridors were packed with people rushing around. I began to think that there never was a time in which the halls of court were not full.

As Lady Sutton's woman took twists and turns through the passages, I knew I would have gotten lost had she not been with me. The palace was big and the corridors all looked the same.

“Here we are, my lady,” the woman finally said, stopping. “Lady Eleanor Shelton,” she said to the young man standing by the door.

I couldn't tell whether he served as a footman, a guard, or both, but he promptly went in as I stepped in behind him.

“Lady Eleanor, my dear!” Of course, it was Lady Sutton's trilling voice that greeted me first.

She came flying at me in a whirl of bright blue and chartreuse. Her dress was so bright, especially compared to mine, that I didn't know whether to look away or to stare.

“Lady Sutton.” I bobbed a curtsey, acknowledging her, as I tore my eyes away to view the rest of the room.

The chartreuse ribbons on her bodice matched the lace on the curtains of the sitting room. Colored cloths were draped along the wall like bright tapestries—yellows, reds, purples—there was one for every shade. Dozens of flowers of every color were placed on every surface; so many that if one were to place something on a table, one would run the risk of knocking over three vases full of marigolds and lilies all at once.

Chairs lined the side of the room. They were placed under
every window, each upholstered in another bright, absurd color. I guessed they matched the rugs if you squinted at them a bit, but I was too busy scanning the room for the clock.

I supposed the clock would have been hung on a wall, as there weren't any drawers or chests it could have fit in. Unfortunately, the walls were bare, save for the not-so-occasional draped garish color.

And in the middle of all of it was one longer-than-average bench with a particularly handsome-looking man posed on its red velvet seat. Lord Richard Holdings.

“Richard wasn't sure you'd make it, but I reassured him that you wouldn't disappoint.” Lady Sutton fluttered around, gesturing for me to sit.

I looked over at the chairs by the window, but since they were much too distant from Lady Sutton and Richard, I ended up sitting on the far end of the bright red bench, hoping it was far enough away from Richard.

Richard leaned over to me, close enough that I had a clear view of his five o'clock shadow. “Couldn't quite escape her, could you?”

“I tried,” I muttered.

“Well, I've been trying for my entire life.”

I stifled a laugh.

“Well then, since we're all here, I can call for our food.” Lady Sutton nodded at a maid who had been waiting by the door. “Now, Lady Eleanor, do tell me you've been up to something interesting since we've last seen each other. Some interesting tidbits might begin to make up for that dreadfully drab dress the countess no doubt picked for you.” She took a seat facing us, by
the window.

“Um . . . ,” I began, but remembering the countess's insistence that one should never start a sentence saying “um,” I paused. “Not particularly.”

“Come now,” Lady Sutton said. “What was so pressing that we had to move our meeting from supper yesterday night to dinner this afternoon? You said something about supper with Lord and Lady Empson?”

“Yes, just d— supper.” The distinction I had learned that “dinner” was actually what I would think of as lunch and separate from “supper” was still difficult for me to wrap my head around.

“And I presume that the Countess Grenville was present as well?”

“Yes,” I said, before adding, “She was, my lady,” to sound a bit more polite.

“Of course that woman was there . . .” Lady Sutton looked over her shoulder at the view outside. I didn't know what she saw from the window, but all of a sudden the view seemed to interest her. “And how was supper?”

“It was excellent—quite lovely.” I smoothed my dress with my palms.

Lady Sutton turned toward me, raising her thin eyebrows.

It felt like betraying family to tell Lady Sutton about Lord Empson's outburst last night, so I decided to keep my mouth shut.

“And how about you, Lady Sutton?” Richard jumped to my rescue, and I wondered if the expression on my face had made it apparent that I needed saving. “Surely you had a more
interesting night than the both of us.”

“A moment, my lord,” I said. “I told you what I was doing last night, but you never told us what you were doing.” I smiled to make my words sound lighter. I didn't want to sound accusatory before I knew what I was accusing him of.

“Ah, nothing too interesting.” But as he said this he looked away from me, flushing.

I wrung my hands in my lap. I had almost forgotten that I had to be suspicious of everyone. Had he been nearby when I had been attacked?

Richard's left cuff on his shirtsleeve had inched up to show a fresh gash that ran along the inside of his wrist.

“Oh my Go— goodness,” I sputtered. I had almost said something completely blasphemous.

Following my line of sight, Richard hastily pulled his sleeve down.

“It's nothing. A cat,” he was quick to say. “It's fine really.”

But I couldn't erase the image from my mind.

“Now, Lady Sutton, will you please do us the honor of telling us about your riveting night?”

Richard's question seemed to make Lady Sutton happy, as she told us about her night with Sir Gordon and a few men. Richard's lip twitched, and I knew the countess would have scowled at Lady Sutton's night with a group of men.

I tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but I kept thinking of Richard. I didn't want to think that he had anything to do with the attack on me, but I couldn't rule anything out either. I pushed the thought out of my mind. Focus.

“You see,” Lady Sutton was saying, “I was
positively
embarrassed that they should want, much less ask, me to play cards with them. Imagine that! A lady like me. Gambling with them. Baron Hastings was even in the room!”

“And did you, Lady Sutton?” Richard had an amused smirk on his face, though I couldn't tell if it was caused by the story Lady Sutton was telling or Lady Sutton in general.

“Why, of course not! I am a
real
lady. Though I did stay and help Lord Grey win a hand.” She winked at us, and whispered, “I told him which cards to play.” With a coy giggle, she rose from her seat. “It appears that our meal is here.”

Two men in red came in carrying miniature tables, which they set up in front of the bench. One of the men moved a chair closer to the tables, presumably for Lady Sutton.

“Come now, hurry up and bring the food in.” Lady Sutton waved them along. “I don't like to hear my guests' stomachs rumbling. That means I'm not a good hostess.”

Lady Sutton's words suddenly reminded me of how hungry I was. Though I had eaten plenty before Lord Empson's quarrel with the countess last night at supper, my appetite was strangely back. Sitting around and doing practically nothing at court seemed to do wonders for my appetite.

The same men came back with two plates each, towering with food. As they set them on the table in front of us, I saw that the plates were filled with various tiny morsels, each no bigger than two of my fingers together.

“The latest from France,” Lady Sutton drawled, as she sat down on the chair that had just been moved for her. “I recently brought in a cook from France. I found him on my last visit to the continent, and he is sublime. I was surprised that the Duke
of Lorraine could do without him.”

I should have known that lunch would be like this—we were silent and Lady Sutton talked at us. All while the food was sitting tantalizingly in front of us, but since our hostess hadn't reached for her plate, we were subjected to just sitting and watching.

“Did I tell you that Lady Sanford wanted a French cook? It is a bit unladylike of me but, between friends, I can say that I was actually glad when she took ill before leaving for France,” Lady Sutton was saying. “It is so important to be unique, isn't it?” Without warning, she took one of my hands. “We are friends now, aren't we?”

She didn't let go till I assured her we were.

“Richard, on the other hand, has no choice about it.” Lady Sutton cackled, looking at him. “You aren't tied to me by blood exactly, but you are family.”

Looking at me, Richard explained, “Lady Sutton is my aunt's mother by marriage, and also my godmother.”

I remembered Lord Empson and the countess talking a bit about their relationship.

“That just means that little Richard here can't escape me.”

I swore I saw Richard gulp, and it would have been a funny sight if Lady Sutton hadn't actually looked menacing. She bared her teeth in a smile, before continuing to prattle on about more irrelevant subjects.

The rest of lunch went on like that: Lady Sutton would talk endlessly, while I shrank in my seat, bored beyond belief. I would have cursed myself for allowing myself to be dragged into this lunch—or, excuse me, “dinner”—in the first place, if it hadn't been for Richard.