A Conspiracy of Alchemists: Book One in the Chronicles of Light and Shadow (5 page)

On the other side of the customs gate, the passenger hall was also deserted. Only freight flights landed and took off at this uncivilized hour.

“This way, miss,” the boy said. “Airfield Superintendent says I’m to make sure I deliver you straight to his door.” They walked through the deserted building toward a row of administrative-looking doors. They followed the corridor, their boots echoing in the hollow hallway until they reached a set of doors with the words
Airfield Superintendent
painted in gold letters on them. The boy puffed out his chest and knocked on the door.

Elle took a deep breath . Now to face the music, she thought.

“Enter,” someone said from within.

Elle hoped Marsh and Patrice had managed to disappear without anyone seeing them. She was going to have a serious word with Patrice the next time she saw him. A few hours’ sleep in one of the airfield pilot’s barracks and then the train to London sounded most attractive right now. But first there was the Superintendent to placate.

CHAPTER 6

The humid warmth of the superintendent’s office enveloped Elle as she stepped inside.

“Ah, Miss Chance. Thank you for coming in. Do sit down.” Airfield Superintendent Briggs beamed at her from behind his desk. He was a red-faced man in his forties who looked more as if he should be farming apples than running the night shift. He heaved himself round his desk and ushered her to a chair. “I am sorry to call you in at this hour and after your long flight, but well, ah, the matter can’t really wait.”

Briggs shuffled round the table to put a few logs into the cast-iron stove that squatted in the corner of his office. He jabbed at the coals with a fire poker and then closed the grate. Heat surged and the room was suddenly stifling. “That’s better,” he said. “Do sit down, my dear.”

She caught a slight movement from the corner of her eye as she took a seat. Elle felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise slowly. Someone else was in this office, hidden in the cluttered shadows that fringed the lamplight.

The airfield master flopped back down in his chair. “Ahem, yes, Miss Chance, may I introduce Viscount Greychester.” He motioned the shadow forward. “Your lordship, may I present Miss Chance.”

Marsh stepped into the pool of lamplight. “How do you do, Miss Chance,” he extended his hand with a formal nod.

“How … How do you do.” Nonplussed as to how he’d managed to reach the superintendent, she reached out and shook his hand. His fingers were cold around hers, as if he had just come in from outside.

He released her hand and leaned against the edge of the desk, narrowing his eyes very briefly as if he was giving her a warning.

“Ahem … We are fortunate that his lordship happened to be waiting at the airfield for his charter when we needed him,” Briggs said.

“Yes, fortunate indeed.” Elle felt slightly faint. Marsh was the viscount. She should have realized it the moment she laid eyes on that fancy waistcoat of his.

He folded his arms. “Airfield Superintendent Briggs has just informed me that he received a rather disturbing cross-Channel message from Paris. Something about difficulties with the
Water Lily
?”

Briggs coughed and motioned at the spectrogram telegraph box that was perched on a bracket attached to the wall behind his desk. The ribbed rubber tubes that stuck out of the box were tangled, as if the machine had been answered in a hurry. “The French air authorities say your ship took off without proper clearance and that you were carrying contraband goods and passengers on board. They want to charge you for breach of the Aeronautical Treaty. I’m afraid that they have threatened to notify the British Flying Company of this. But I am sure it must all be a misunderstanding?”

Elle felt her insides grow cold. “They can’t be serious. I had a valid departure permit.”

“I’m afraid they are serious.” Briggs started wringing his hands. “They say you fled from Luxembourg Airfield, resisting arrest.”

“But I’m innocent. They attacked
me
!” Elle said.

Marsh interjected. “This is precisely the reason I have come to meet with you this morning, sir. I too was made aware of the matter in the course of last night and it is imperative that I intervene.” He straightened to his full height. “You see, this was
my
charter flight. Miss Chance and my Paris man, Mr. Chevalier, acted on my express instructions. This is official business, the nature of which I am not at liberty to disclose at this point in time.”

Briggs patted his forehead with his handkerchief. “The French authorities are seeking the immediate suspension of Miss Chance’s license and I don’t see how we would be able to refuse their request. At least not without creating a rather unpleasant international incident, that is.”

“But that is ridiculous! I had to take off. They were shooting at my ship!” She gave Marsh a sharp look, not sure if she should say more. He shook his head ever so slightly and looked away.

“I’m sorry, I can see their point entirely,” Briggs said, suddenly officious. “We can’t have airships taking off and flying about at will. It would give rise to chaos and anarchy. The rules must be obeyed.”

Marsh was silent.

Elle closed her eyes in despair. There was no way she could charm her way out of this mess. She was completely on her own. And her father and uncle would find out that she was flying bootleg freight on the quiet. There would be long lectures. There would be “I told you so’s and a lot of “flying is no business for a woman’s. She’d have to give up the lease on the
Water Lily.
Everything she had worked for would be lost.

She was suddenly very angry. But despite herself, her throat thickened with the urge to cry. Tears would only confirm everything these men already thought. And she was not going to let them have that pleasure. She swallowed hard at the lump of humiliation that was threatening to choke her.

Marsh cleared his throat. “Mr. Briggs, if you would perhaps be so kind as to hand over the communication from Paris. I shall see that it is sent straight to the ministry so we may resolve this matter along diplomatic channels.” He motioned to Elle. “And if you’ll allow us a moment. Perhaps a cup of tea for the lady might be appropriate?”

“Yes, of course.” Briggs nodded. He shuffled off, looking distinctly grateful for Marsh’s intervention in the matter.

As soon as Briggs was out the door, Marsh put his hand on her arm. “I am so sorry for putting you through this charade. I didn’t think the French authorities would move so fast. I had hoped that my contacts would resolve any difficulties before there were problems.” His voice was low and conspiratorial.

Elle swatted his hand away. “I am not taking the fall for this, Mr. Marsh. You dragged me into this mess and you had better get me out of it.” She poked at his chest with her forefinger. “That is what Patrice promised, and a deal is a deal. So you better start by telling me the truth, or we are both going to end up in jail before the sun rises.”

He leaned closer to her. “It’s not safe to speak here. I will explain more later, but the truth is that we needed someone anonymous to transport us back to London. Patrice was in charge of the arrangements, which is why I think he recruited you. We were going to meet you at the airfield and I was to travel on your cargo flight, but Patrice deviated from the plan. He disappeared shortly before lunch yesterday afternoon and I spent far too long looking for him. I was rather fortunate to have found him in that café when I did. I’d thought it best to leave you ignorant about matters for your own protection. You really shouldn’t have run off like that when we landed, before I had a chance to explain things. When we overheard the attendant telling you that Briggs wanted to see you, I slipped round the back while you were clearing customs. He was ready to take you into custody a few minutes ago.”

She paled. “I told Patrice that I am just the pilot. He promised me there would be no trouble.”

“We will resolve this. I give you my word,” Marsh said.

She sat back in her seat. “And how are you planning to do that? Send a telegram to the prime minister? Petition the King?”

“If I have to. But for now, we need to keep what happened in Paris between us. Until I have spoken with my contacts. Would you mind terribly if we did that?”

Elle’s despair turned to anger. “Which part would you like to keep between us, Mr. Marsh? The bit about how you lied to me, tricked me, and then almost got me killed? Or is it perhaps that the criminals and cab drivers who frequent the streets of Paris now have command of illegal alchemy that allows them to disappear in plumes of smoke? All I did was try to help you, and look where it has got me. I should have known all this was too good to be true. And besides, who exactly are you? Are you a spy or something?”

“Or something,” he said. “But you have to believe this is not what you think. I have very good reasons for doing what I did.”

“I don’t very much care for your reasons, Mr. Marsh … or Lord Greychester … or whoever you are. I have absolutely no reason to trust you.”

A look of exasperation crossed his face and he pressed his lips together. “As I see it, your options are rather limited at present. You can either trust me to get you out of this situation discreetly, or I can walk out of here and leave you to face our ruddy-cheeked friend on your own. The latter option will, more likely than not, end in your incarceration.”

Elle felt her argument crumble away. She didn’t want to go to jail. And she definitely did not want her father or uncle to find out about this.

“So what’s it going to be?” He drew his lips in a thin line.

“Very well, I will keep your secret,” she said. “I don’t see how I have any choice in the matter. And right now I just want to go home, so if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll do that.” Her words sounded more petulant than she had intended. Still, he pushed herself out of her seat and made for the door. She yanked at the brass doorknob just as Mr. Briggs came into the office with a cup of tea.

“Oh, Miss Chance. So close to the door,!” Mr. Briggs said. He sloshed the tea into the saucer as he handed her the cup of grayish brew. “Here you go, my dear. That’ll perk you right up. Such a terrible shock you’ve had this evening.”

“Mr. Briggs, I have a motor with a driver waiting. You may release Miss Chance into my care as soon as she has finished her tea,” Marsh announced. He picked up his gloves. “Until this misunderstanding has been resolved, I am taking the lady into my custody.”

Elle spluttered into her tea. “Excuse me? You are going to do what?”

“I am taking you into my custody until the matter is settled with the authorities. You are not to leave my sight until then.”

Mr. Briggs was nodding in agreement. “I will make a note in the records, my lord.”

“B-but you can’t do that. Can you?” Elle said.

Marsh looked at her and his well-formed mouth curled up into a triumphant little smile. “Oh, but I can and I just did. And it’s a task I take very seriously.”

“Ahem, there is also the matter of your ship’s repair and mooring fees,” Mr. Briggs said.

“I am taking charge of the
Water Lily
as well. I will send someone to attend to the repairs tomorrow. She can be stored in one of the hangars here in the short term. Please arrange to have the accounts sent to my secretary,” Marsh said. He held up his hand to stop Elle before she could speak. “And I’ll not hear another word on the matter. The mooring fees are for my account too. I insist. It’s the least I can do.” There was a little gleam in his eye warning her to not to push the point.

Elle felt the urge to smack him. The man was unbelievable, but now was not the time to fight that battle. She would do much better if she bided her time. Enemies kept close are enemies known.

Elle set the cup in its swampy saucer down on the desk, where it would leave a mark on the wood; a gift for Mr. Briggs to find later. She straightened her coat and lifted her chin “Very well, then, Lord Greychester. We had better be off. We have quite a way to travel yet.”

He held the door for her and they walked down the corridor in silence.

Outside, Patrice had collected Marsh’s car from one of the private stables at the airfield. The motor gleamed in the light of the airfield terminus, in all its white paint and silver-riveted loveliness.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Marsh said. “It’s a Stanley.”

She turned on him. “I don’t know who you think you are, Mr. Marsh, but if you think you are going to use this situation to get your hands on my ship, you are very seriously mistaken. Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing her while we were in the air.”

“Ah yes, the little airship. I give you my word that it will be safe. As long as you do what I say.”

“Your word? How am I supposed to accept that?”

He sighed and took her by the elbow. “Well, as I see it, my word is the best you are going to get for now.” He swiveled her round to face the doors they had just left. “But we could always go back to the Superintendent’s office if you prefer.”

Elle clenched her molars together so tightly she felt her jaw creak. “Fine.” She turned back so she faced the car again. His body moved in time with hers as if they were dancing. “I will go with you, but don’t think for one moment that this discussion is over.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. But in time you will come to see that I am quite an honorable fellow. Isn’t that right, Patrice?”

Patrice just shook his head and chuckled at them from where he was sitting in the driver’s seat.

Marsh opened the door for her. “After you, madam.”

Elle glared at him as she got into the machine. Grudgingly, she had to admit that the motor really was a thing of beauty. The outside gleamed with white paintwork and brass tubing. Dual reactors, by the looks of it.

She allowed herself to sink into the plush seat. And though she would never admit it, she was secretly relieved to be going straight home. The bunks in the pilot quarters at the airfield were not always that pleasant, and it would be hours before the first trains to London started running. Home was where she wanted to be right now. The edge of the bracelet slipped from beneath her sleeve as she sat down. Quickly she tucked it away. Hopefully the fairy would stay asleep until then.

Marsh sat beside her. He ran his hand over the seat. “I quite like the new shape, don’t you? Six-point-five horsepower. Fast as a bullet, she is. With the dual reactor and new patented micro-condensers, we get about twenty miles to a gallon of water. It helps that the canals are close by though.”

“If you like that kind of thing,” Elle said. She had no intention of paying his stupid motor compliments.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he said to Patrice, “Shall we, old man?”

Patrice took a last puff of his little black cigar and flicked the glowing ember into the night. He eased the accelerator lever forward and the steam car slid onto motion. They were going to Oxford.

The car prattled and huffed as it sped along the dark country lanes. Elle watched Marsh surreptitiously from her corner of the backseat. His eyes were closed as he rested his head against the leather. Lord Greychester. She was sure she’d heard that name before.