Chapter 27
In Which a Barrage of Questions Is Followed by Disclosures and Declarations (One of Which Features a Double Three-legged Gravity Escapement); Concluding with a Question and Irresistible Invitation…
Ticktock, ticktock.
Emmeline paced the floor of the duke’s Horology Room, her footfalls keeping time with the innumerable clocks and watches on display. The duke—Xavier—had been away for over an hour and she was literally dying of impatience to know what was going on.
Of course, she could leave the Horology Room and seek him out.
But she’d promised that she’d stay here and wait.
Why she had to stay hidden she didn’t know.
Unless Xavier thought Ollie might be difficult and kick up a great fuss when the police arrived…
But she’d already proven time and again that she wasn’t a shrinking violet.
She wasn’t a fair society maiden who needed protecting from anything unsavory.
She would have been happy to help Mrs. Lambton question the maids.
But perhaps Xavier thought they might be more forthcoming with the housekeeper.
Fanny might be mulish like the last time Emmeline had seen her.
If that were the case, it was likely she wouldn’t be able to coax anything useful from the young woman. Especially if it were incriminating.
Horatio would be pleasant company, but he hadn’t been in his master’s study and his perch in the Horology Room was vacant as well. He might be upstairs in the duke’s private suite, but Emmeline could hardly go looking for him there.
Yes, if anyone spied Nanny Chase entering the Duke of St Lawrence’s bedchamber or adjacent sitting room, her career would be as sunk as a French naval ship at the Battle of Trafalgar. That would be a surefire way of waving goodbye to her career as a licensed Parasol Academy nanny for good.
Emmeline plopped into a damask-upholstered wingchair by the Horology Room’s fireplace and hugged a silk cushion to her chest. The deep velvet-blue vaulted ceiling soared above her.
Even though it was filled with shadows, the gaslights picked out the silver and gold constellations along with the moon and the sun.
Her gaze lit on the inscription above the jib door: Tempus Rerum Imperator : Time, the Ruler of all Things. Except, for Emmeline it wasn’t time that ruled her. It was the duke.
Xavier had her heart. He was the man she’d follow to the ends of the earth and love until her dying day.
She released a wistful sigh and hugged the cushion tighter.
If only they could be together. If only Xavier would love her and she could forget about all the barriers between them—both the Parasol Academy’s rules and society’s that were keeping them apart—then they might have a chance.
If the rest of the world went away and it was only her and Xavier building a life together…
creating a family with his wards, how glorious that would be.
Something had changed, though. Xavier had asked her to stay.
His declaration that he’d missed her had been genuine.
And when he’d murmured in her ear that no dream he’d ever had had smelled as wonderful as she did, her knees had virtually turned to blancmange.
Hope began to flutter in her breast and for once, she didn’t have the will to crush it.
The hum and buzz and soft ticking of countless seconds and minutes was a quiet counterpoint to the beating of Emmeline’s own heart. She was about to abandon her seat in favor of perusing the contents of all the display cases when the jib door opened and the duke himself stepped back into the room.
At last!
Climbing to her feet, Emmeline tried to read his expression but failed.
Before she could stop herself, too many questions tumbled out in a great rush.
“How has everything gone? Did someone from Scotland Yard arrive? Did Ollie finally confess who the guv’nor is?
Did Mrs. Lambton find out anything useful from Fanny? ”
Xavier gave a short laugh. “By Jove. What a barrage. It’s like I’ve stepped in front of a firing party.”
“I’m sorry,” said Emmeline. “Waiting is difficult sometimes. Especially when there’s so much at stake.”
“I know.” The duke sighed and ran a gloved hand through his jet-black hair, ruffling it into spikes.
“I apologize for taking so long. To answer your questions, I still don’t know who this guv’nor character is.
Ollie wasn’t forthcoming, even after a detective from Scotland Yard arrived.
The stubborn dog refused to admit anything, so he’s been arrested on suspicion of aiding and abetting Gareth’s kidnapper.
He’s been hauled off to spend the night in a holding cell at the Old Bailey, so perhaps he’ll be more amenable come morning.
One thing that is clear to me after tonight is that Fanny is Ollie’s sweetheart. ”
Emmeline wasn’t surprised. “Did she say something to Mrs. Lambton?”
Xavier shook his head. “No. Mrs. Lambton didn’t have the opportunity to talk to her because she’s gone.”
“Gone?” repeated Emmeline.
“Yes. Up and left. Absconded.” Then Xavier explained what had happened.
“While Ned was guarding the storage cupboard, not long before Scotland Yard arrived, Fanny approached and she was crying. She asked to speak to Ollie, and Ned, not thinking it would do any harm, permitted her to do so through the door. He overhead their brief exchange.”
“What did they say?”
“Apparently Ollie told Fanny not to worry. That he would be all right. Then he told her that my clock plans were complete and then his exact words were, ‘You know what to do.’?”
“You know what to do,” repeated Emmeline, her skin prickling with apprehension. “And now Fanny has disappeared into the night.”
“It would seem so. Ollie was obviously referring to my King of Clocks. But the plans are safe and sound. In fact, I keep them in a locked metallic box that’s bolted to the floor in this very room in a secret cupboard. Nothing can happen to them. They can’t be stolen.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” said Emmeline. “Do you think Fanny has gone running to whoever the guv’nor is?”
“Undoubtedly,” said Xavier grimly. “And now more than ever I think it must be Sir Randolph Redvers who’s behind everything. No one else would care about whether my clock plans are finished or not.”
Emmeline agreed. “Will you notify Scotland Yard about your suspicions?”
“I’ve already sent a message,” said Xavier.
“I imagine the police will continue to question Ollie and they’ll start looking for Fanny.
With any luck, they’ll bring Sir Randolph in for questioning too.
If he paid West to kidnap Gareth as part of his elaborate plot to upset me, I trust he’ll be brought to justice. ”
Emmeline blew out a sigh. “I hope so. Then this nightmare will all be over and you can begin to lead a more tranquil, happier life.”
Xavier’s mouth kicked into an unexpected smile. “Believe me, my dear Emmeline, since I met you, that’s already begun to happen.” He suddenly reached out and grasped her hand. “Come. I want to show you my clock plans.”
He drew Emmeline over to his enormous workbench and bade her sit upon a tall, padded stool. Before her lay pages upon pages of intricate schematic diagrams and sketches.
“I finished this two nights ago, but this evening I’ve been going over it with a fine-tooth comb and fresh eyes.
That’s what I was doing when you arrived,” he said, his blue eyes gleaming with pride.
He was standing so close to Emmeline, the sleeve of his black coat kept brushing her arm and she could smell his woodsy cologne.
“If everything is perfect, I’ll submit my plan to the Astronomer Royal in the next few days. ”
“It looks magnificent,” Emmeline murmured, her tone filled with awe. “I don’t understand the technical calculations, but from what I can see, it’s evident your vision is brilliant, Xavier.”
“Thank you,” he said, then dropped a light kiss on her temple.
His face became wreathed with excitement as he began to describe a little of what he’d created.
“My clock has an original double three-legged gravity escapement which protects the fourteen-foot-long pendulum from the elements. Which means its accuracy will be remarkable even in the most inclement weather.”
“Heavens. I wish I knew what a double three-legged gravity escapement really meant,” said Emmeline with a laugh. “But I’m sure it’s clever beyond words. Tell me more about what your clock will look like when it’s finished.”
“She’s going to be a beauty,” said Xavier as he tugged off his gloves and tossed them onto the bench.
“See here”—with one long elegant finger, he pointed to a precise rendering of a stunning clockface on the first page.
“There’ll be four dials—one on each side of St Stephen’s Tower—and they’ll be cast from iron but covered with a mosaic of opalescent glass.
At night, each face will be backlit by gaslight so everyone for miles around will be able to see the time as well as hear the chimes.
The Roman numerals and the hands will be painted in Prussian blue.
And here”—Xavier moved behind Emmeline and leaned forward, both arms bracketing her on each side as he pointed to the edge of the clockface—“at the base of each dial, right below this ornate gilt border will be inscribed, Domine Salvam Fac Reginam Nostram Victoriam Primam .”
“Oh Lord, keep safe our Queen Victoria the First,” said Emmeline softly. “Your design has to win, Xavier. You deserve all the accolades in the world.”
The duke’s bare hands slid up Emmeline’s arms and came to rest lightly on her shoulders. “Any and all accolades will mean nothing at all if I don’t have you,” he murmured in a low voice, his breath hot against her ear.
Emmeline bit her lip as tears welled. Her fledgling hope began to beat its wings a little faster. “Do you really mean that, Xavier?” she whispered.