Steamed (19 page)

“Oh, go on, have a good time, and enjoy yourself with whoever it is you’re seeing,” I said, smiling and shooing her to the door.

“It’s not what you think, but thank you nonetheless.”

She left and I sagged back against the wall for a moment, the events of the day swirling around me in a miasma of confusion. What was I going to do about Etienne’s men?

“First things first, old girl,” I told myself, reaching for my jacket. I hesitated a moment, then instead grabbed the big old leather bag that I’d had since I had been given over to Robert Anstruther’s care. Quickly I stripped, had a fast wash at the basin, and pulled on a gold walking skirt, light lawn blouse, gold and Wedgwood blue rose-patterned waistcoat, and a matching moiré outing jacket. I studied myself in the mirror for a moment, tucking in a strand of hair that had come free, wondering if Jack liked the combination of blue and gold.

“Bother,” I growled when I contemplated changing my clothes. I grabbed up my bag and tucked the Disruptor into it. “It doesn’t matter what he likes. You have business to attend to, Octavia. Get to it.”

I think it had been my third trip with Robert when he showed me the break in the tall laurel hedge that served as a boundary between the convent and the pensione.

“It will be good for you to have a way out of the pensione without detection,” he had told me at the time as he pulled aside a heavy overhang of laurel and indicated a small gate that was invisible unless you knew where to look for it. “This leads to the cloister and convent gardens. If you are careful, you can escape both without being seen by the nuns in residence. The road at the front of the convent is distant enough from the entrance of the pensione to allow you to slip away unseen.”

I had cause to use the hidden exit once or twice, and blessed Robert’s foresight each time I did so. I added yet another blessing now as I skirted the nuns’ garden, emerging at the corner of the road. I had to wait a few minutes for a patrol of the emperor’s troops to pass, but they did not glance twice toward the garden, or its very climbable fence. A few minutes later I was in front of the Pensione Suore della Santa Croce, greeting the nun who answered my ring. “Good evening, Sister. I believe some friends of mine, Mr. Fletcher and his sister, Miss Norris, are staying here. Might I see them?”

The nun murmured acquiescence, moving back to allow me to enter into the pensione. The profits from it no doubt helped fund the convent, and although the pensione was small and not overly popular, it was clean, if a bit austere. I sat on an uncomfortable horsehair chair in the visitors’ room, plucking a bit of laurel from where it had stuck in my collar.

“I thought you’d never come!” Jack was suddenly there in the room, and my heart lightened at the sight of his scowl. He rushed forward and took my hands, pulling me to my feet. I thought, for one giddy moment, that he was going to take me into his arms and kiss me, an act that I knew would draw censure from the nun who hovered uncomfortably in the background.

“Please, Mr. Fletcher,” I said, disengaging my hands, my gaze on the nun. “We are not alone.”

“To hell with that,” he said, much to the nun’s shock. “I tried to get hold of you, but no one would tell me where you were staying.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake . . . let us go to the square,” I said, apologizing to the little nun as we passed. She had one hand over her mouth, her eyes large, as I led Jack back out into the street, taking his arm and urging him forward even as I looked up and down for signs of potential trouble. “There is a small café in the square where we can have a glass of wine and—”

“Hallie’s missing,” he said abruptly, stopping.

A chill gripped my heart. “Missing how?”

“Missing! Don’t you understand? Gone!” He ran one hand through his hair in a gesture of agitation that I found so endearing, it made my heart contract. “One minute she was there, and the next minute, she was gone.”

I glanced up and down the street, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Still, we would attract attention sooner or later if we just stood outside the convent in intense conversation. “Walk with me, Mr. Fletcher, and tell me what happened.”

“Jack,” he said absently, his forehead furrowed as I took his arm.

“You made it out of the aerodrome without difficulty?” I prompted.

“Yes. Your directions were spot-on, as were the ones to the hotel. We kept a casual pace, as you told me to, in order to avoid notice, and made it to the hotel without a problem. Hallie wanted to take one of those horses and carriages that run all over the place, but I didn’t know how much money you had, and I felt bad enough you had to give us some to stay at the hotel, so we walked.”

The muscles in his arm were tense and tight. His steps had a tendency to lag, as if he was reluctant to leave the vicinity of the pensione.

“What were the circumstances of her disappearance?” I asked.

“I’m getting to that. We made it to the hotel, took our rooms, and I told her that you’d said you would come by later to check on us. I said she should lie down for a bit, but she wanted to look around.” He gave a half grimace, half smile. “I know I should have stopped her, but you have to understand—this is all a tremendous experience for us, seeing your world. It’s like being transported back a hundred years, only there are things you have that we’ve never had. Like the hybrid bus we saw a few blocks from here—it looked like a cross between a horse-drawn bus and a steam paddler.”

I frowned. “A horse-drawn bus . . . Do you mean a steam trolley?”

He shrugged. “I suppose that’s as good a name as any for it. It was long like a bus, and filled with a bunch of soldiers, with a big steam engine on the back that chugged like a train.”

“That sounds like a steam trolley. They are used for industrial and imperial purposes, since the engines are costly to run.”

He flashed me a one-sided grin. “If I was smart, I’d invent the combustion engine, and make a fortune.”

I looked at him, confused.

“I’ll explain it later,” he said, his grin fading as memory returned to him. “Hal and I wandered around a bit, taking in the sights, and the next thing I knew, we were in a big square.”

“Rome is full of squares. Do you know which one?”

He frowned. “There was no sign, so no. There was some sort of a church on one side, a big building on the other, and a fountain with a guy blowing into a horn in the center.”

“Probably the Fontana di Tritone,” I said thoughtfully. “Which is in the Piazza Barberini—oh!”

My hand covered my mouth as I realized just what that meant.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked, quick to notice my distress.

“The Palazzo Barberini is the emperor’s headquarters in Rome.” My stomach contracted with sudden fear. “Go on. I must know what happened.”

“Great, we walked right into the nest of vipers we were trying to avoid,” Jack muttered to himself, his gaze on the distance, but turned inward.

“Jack,” I said, squeezing his arm to bring him back to me. “What happened to Hallie?”

He gave a little shake. “We were looking at the fountain. She was fascinated by it, and was saying it was a shame we hadn’t a camera to take our pictures at it. I wanted a closer look at that steam contraption, so I went to have a quick gander while she was admiring the fountain. When I was done looking, I started back across the square toward her, but I was too late. A couple of men had been passing by, and the next thing I knew, they had suddenly grabbed her, and hustled her off. It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to get to her.”

“Oh, no,” I said, my stomach dropping to my feet.

“They sucked her into the big building,” Jack continued, his hand gripping mine now. “The one with guards outside the doors. I was about to demand they release her, when another of those big steam contraptions showed up full of soldiers. A couple of them started after me, and I figured I’d better get you to help rather than end up inside with Hallie.”

“Imperial soldiers chased you?” I asked, astounded, although I didn’t know why I should be. Jack had shown nothing but courage ever since I had met him. Still, no one but revolutionaries had ever escaped imperial soldiers.

He shrugged. “They started to, but I lost them quick enough.”

I stared at him.

“I was in the army,” he said by way of an explanation. “In a ... well, a special branch. We learned a thing or two about ditching tails.”

“I don’t know what a tail has to do with the situation, but that is not important now,” I said, thinking furiously. “If your sister is being held by the emperor’s officials . . . merciful heavens. Alan is going to be furious with me.”

“Alan?”

“Alan Dubain. He is a friend whom I must call upon to help with . . . with another problem. Come.” I did an about-face and took Jack with me. “I must find a messenger. Alan holds a position in the diplomatic corps. He will simply have to help us find out what happened to your sister.”

By the time I located a messenger service and wrote out a plea for Alan’s help, the city was in darkness. When we stepped out of the messenger office on the heels of the messenger, the sky to the east was lit with a dull orange red glow. Distant sounds of explosions drifted across the still-warm night air.

“Go straight to the palazzo,” I told the messenger as he climbed onto his velocipede. The young lad cast a nervous glance over his shoulder toward the colorful skyline, but nodded, and adjusted his goggles before turning the velocipede key a few revolutions.

“A clockwork bike,” Jack said softly as the boy kicked off and set on his way into the night. “And I thought I’d seen it all. If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is the purpose of the clockworks?”

“They turn the wheels, of course,” I answered. “Jack, we do not have time for idle discussion. Evidently the Moghuls are making yet another assault, and we should return to the pensione to await contact by Alan.”

He was resistant when I took his arm and tried to steer him toward a cab. “I was thinking that maybe we should go back to that palace and try to get in to see Hallie. She must be scared.”

“Unfortunately, we wouldn’t get far, not by ourselves,” I told him, stopping a cab that appeared empty. “We need Alan to intervene. Can you take us to the Pensione Suore della Santa Croce, please? Via di San Basilio.”

The cabdriver didn’t seem any too pleased to receive us. He complained in Italian that it was dangerous for him to be out when the Moghuls were attacking, and that he was on his way home. “The sooner you take us there, the sooner you will be able to return to the safety of your home,” I told him firmly, climbing into the cab.

Jack followed, his face pensive as the driver’s. After the driver unburdened himself of a few opinions on my ancestry that I chose to ignore, he slapped the reins on his horse and set off at a smart trot.

“I don’t like this, Octavia.”

“I know you don’t, but there is nothing we can do without assistance.”

“What if this Alan friend of yours is gone? Or doesn’t want to help us?”

“I can’t imagine Alan refusing my request for assistance,” I said with composure. I could feel how anxious Jack was to be doing something to free his sister. I well understood that restless need to be acting, but to act without Alan would be sheerest folly.

“Oh?” He shot me a sidelong glance, just barely visible in the dimly lit cab interior. “Is this yet
another
one of your boyfriends?”

“He’s hardly a boy,” I said, smoothing down the material of my skirt over my knees. “And before you pepper me with wholly inappropriate questions, yes, at one time Alan and I had an intimate relationship. That has been over for years now.”

“So there’s William the emperor, Etienne the leader of the revolutionaries, and now this Alan the diplomat? Aren’t you ever interested in a common Joe?”

“I don’t know anyone named Joe,” I answered, deliberately misunderstanding.

“You know what I mean. Seems to me like you’ve had some pretty colorful lovers.”

“And what about you?” I was irritated enough to lash out when I should have kept my tongue behind my teeth. “Why don’t you detail the seven women with whom you’ve had relationships?”

His teeth flashed in a grin. For some reason, that irritated me even more. “Jealous, my sweet?”

“Hardly,” I said, tamping down on something that felt very much like that emotion.

“Turnabout’s fair play, then? OK. I’ve been ribbing you, so I guess it’s only fair to take my medicine. I’ve had four girlfriends. The first two were heartless bitches who dumped me for better opportunities: one was with a stockbroker; the other ended up with a pitcher who made it into the big leagues. The third girlfriend, Samantha, was nice enough, but she was ready to settle down, and I had just gotten my job with Nordic Tech, and I wasn’t up for the whole wife-and-kids scene. That was seven years ago, by the way,” he said, just as if that mattered.

“Indeed,” I said, curling my fingers into fists to keep from touching his leg that leaned so casually against mine.

“My last girlfriend was named Kim. She was also an engineer, worked just down the hall from me, as a matter of fact. We stuck together for a couple of years, but just kind of drifted apart.” He shrugged. “I still see her occasionally, but we both know the spark is gone.”

I ground my teeth at the thought of the woman continuing to cling to him. “I have always believed that one should clearly delineate the end of a relationship when it is over, so that both parties can continue on with their lives without a perpetual feeling of obligation.”

“I suppose,” he said after thinking about that, then proceeded to add, “I guess it’s really just a matter of convenience. Sometimes . . . well, I
am
human. Sometimes if Kim isn’t busy that night, we hook up, no strings attached.”

I stared at him, shocked, appalled, and so angry I could spit.