She turned to the viewing window, hardly able to believe that the mighty Count von Zeppelin, one of the finest engineers of the modern age, considered her so valuable that he was willing to give her and the girls a home for the next four years, in hopes that Claire would add her mind to the storehouse of intellect his firm already possessed.
Ahead, the horizon widened, encompassing the vast oceans of water and air through which
Athena
steamed steadily, doing brilliantly what she had been designed to do.
It was an amazing offer—one that had been prompted by affection as well as appreciation and faith.
Faith, the substance of things hoped for.
Claire could not remember anyone—save perhaps Polgarth the poultryman—ever having faith in her. And now look. She was rich in people who possessed it. The Mopsies. Andrew. The count.
Alice. Perhaps even the Dunsmuirs, whom she hoped would regain their faith in her once the Meriwether-Astor affair was settled for good.
She had been through some perilous times, it was true. She had learned and grown and was no longer that shy, unsure, untried girl she had been when Snouts had pulled her from her landau outside Aldgate station.
She was a woman now. A lady of resources, of intellect—and of faith in herself and the ones she loved.
Maggie and Lizzie crept into the navigation gondola and joined her at the window, passing their arms about her waist and snuggling
against her, one on either side. Rosie perched on Maggie’s other shoulder, settling there as comfortably as if she were in her own garden.
“All right, then, Lady?” Lizzie asked, peering
ahead into the vast sky that enfolded them and beckoned, even as they sailed majestically on.
“Yes, Lizzie.” She hugged them both close. “It
’s more than all right. In fact … I think it’s going to be wonderful.”
Palace of the Viceroy
Charlottetown
All Souls’ Day
My dear Claire,
I hope youme="+0"> will allow me to apologize for slipping this missive under your door in this clandestine fashion, but it seems to be my last resort. Amid the joy of Tigg’s arrival with the Dunsmuirs here in Charlottetown and the latter’s subsequent rapprochement with you, then the meeting with the Viceroy for your testimony in the case—to say nothing of the pigeon from Her Majesty herself!—it has been a mad several days in which I have found it utterly impossible to contrive a moment alone to speak.
Hence, a letter.
I must confess that I share both your excitement and your apprehension over this new stage in your life. But I know also that you will manage famously, and so will the girls. Count von Zeppelin has offered you a marvelous opportunity and you must let nothing stand in the way of making it everything it can be. Have no fear as to the welfare of the children remaining in London. I shall visit often and make sure that they want for nothing.
When the time comes, I shall
see you off at the airfield, waving farewell with a full heart. (Note: If you are going to keep Athena, Tigg suggests that we see about Snouts & co. building a mooring mast in the field next to the cottage.) Then I shall address myself to finishing my long-neglected dissertation and rebuilding the
Malvern-Terwilliger
Kinetick Carbonator and filing all the patents appertaining thereto, including yours. Four years will pass quickly—four years in which we will both achieve a measure of our dreams, and prepare ourselves for what may come after.
Claire, I shall say
only a word of my feelings here. I do not hesitate to be honest, for you deserve nothing less, but neither do I wish to burden you at the moment you have the chance to fly. You are a special woman with special gifts, and I do not mean to stand in your way. So I shall say only this:
When you return to England in triumph, your diploma in hand,
for your last summer in London before beginning your career, you will find me waiting, my heart as true as my intentions are honorable.
I cherish the hope that some day, you will accept them both.
I remain yours always,
Andrew
THE END
Dear reader,
I hope you have enjoyed
reading Claire’s adventures in the Magnificent Devices world as much as I have enjoyed writing them. It has been your support and enthusiasm that has been like the steam in
Athena
’s boiler, keeping the entire enterprise afloat and ready for the next adventure.
And what might that next adventurend,du fo be? Well, there are a number of ways we can go, but I really feel that Maggie and Lizzie need their own book—or maybe books, plural! So, sometime in the fall, we’ll defy the space/time continuum to move five years into the future, when the Mopsies are sixteen and on the verge of coming out as young ladies …
… except that it’s terribly difficult to be a proper young lady when—besides literature, elocution, and mathematics—your only real skills are pickpocketing, scouting, and making bombs …
Did you enjoy this book? If so, you might leave a review on amazon.com to tell others about it!
Haven’t read the first three books?
Download
Lady of Devices
,
Her Own Devices
, and
Magnificent Devices
at Amazon.com.
Want to read another of Shelley’s novels while you’re waiting for the next Magnificent Devices book? Try
Immortal Faith
, a vampire novel that’s … a little different. Excerpt below.
Immortal Faith
A young adult novel of vampires and unholy love
By Shelley Adina
Copyright 2011 Shelley Adina Bates. All rights reserved.
In the small,
Old Order Mennonite community of Mitternacht, Iowa, the people pray that God will deliver them from evil.
They should have been more specific.
Sophia Brucker
is on the threshold of womanhood, standing in the door between her religion’s way of life and the possibilities of the world outside. She is also torn between two young men: David Fischer, whom she has known since childhomt siod, and Gabriel Langford, the new arrival. In a community that only grows when people are born into it, a convert—young, single, and male—is the most exciting thing that has happened in years.
When Sophia’s uncle is found dead in the barn with his throat slashed and bitten, the community grieves—except Sophia, who has been abused by him for years. And when the local mean girl is killed the same way, Sophia hardly dares to voice what she suspects: that only the worst among them are being weeded out. Under the elders’ approving eyes, it seems Gabriel is dedicated to worshipping God. But his methods may not stand up to too close a scrutiny . . . and Sophia is getting very close indeed . . .
Immortal Faith
By Shelley Adina
Chapter 1
The baby chick, hatched just yesterday and half the size of my palm, peeped as I stroked its downy yellow back with one finger. The two halves of its tiny beak crossed at the tips, which was why it had been peeping. It couldn’t pick up the feed and it was hungry.
Mamm
would be out any moment, but I couldn’t help myself—I had to do something for it, even if all I had to offer was the warmth of my hands. I knew it had to be culled; if it managed to grow up and have chicks of its own, it would pass on the defect. On an Old Order Mennonite farm, even a tiny scrap of life such as this still had to do its best and pull its weight, and my mother had no tolerance for things that didn’t pull their weight.
Unless we were speaking of my youngest brother,
Jonah.
Sometimes you didn’t know until a creature was half grown that it would need to be culled. When one of the young roosters decided it was going to challenge
Dat for the rule of the farmyard, and attacked his leg in a fury of male aggression, Dat simply pulled it off his boot and ended that discussion with a quick twist. “I’ll not have that bird passing on his bad seed,” was all he’d said, and we had chicken and dumplings for dinner that night.
Jonah
and Caleb laughed and called me softheaded as well as softhearted because I couldn’t bring myself to do some of the things that were necessary on a working farm. And while I knew God had a purpose for every animal and human here—even Jonah—and we all had to fill our places . . . I gazed down at the defenseless fluffball in my hand. We were taught to strive after perfection, but couldn’t there be a little room for mercy, too?
But questioning was a sure path to a bad spirit, which led to discontent and pride.
Father, forgive me for my resentful thoughts
.
“
Sophia, are you out here?”
“
Ja, Mamm
.”
The sunlight streaming in the barn door darkened briefly, throwing my mother’s body into silhouette and shining thnd shinirough her
kapp
to show the smooth braided bun beneath it. “You’re not mooning over those chicks, are you? You know we can’t keep the ones that aren’t up to standard.”
“I know.”
“You’ll have to learn to do this some day.” Her tone softened as she joined me at the pen where the broody hens lived until the chicks were big enough to go out into the barn. “When you’re married and have a fine farm of your own, you’ll be overrun with rickety, good-for-nothing birds if you don’t cull the bad ones.”
No one I knew kept chickens as pets, but in the rare moments that I sat down on the back steps and one would jump into my lap, I would swear that, like my baby sister, they wanted to be cuddled. I wished I could keep this one as a pet.
“She’s not bad,” I said softly. The chick had settled in my palm, and I covered it with my other hand. “It isn’t her fault she’s not perfect.”
“And would you have a yard full of cross-beaks that can’t eat their food? That grow up spindly and thin and won’t fill the stomachs of your family?”
“No.” I sighed. We had this same conversation every spring, and every spring I hated it just as much. The part about getting married and having my own farm hadn’t come up before, though. I wondered what had brought that on.
“
Sophia.” Mamm held out her hand. Gently, I put the chick into it and turned away. With no sound but a sudden rustle of the dark blue cotton of her sleeves, it was over. “Are there any more?”