The Marriage Machine (7 page)

Elspeth would have liked to tell him to lean down and kiss her, to wrap those big warm hands around her and pull her into his fiery chest. But she was positive such a command would backfire, and the only one to suffer would be her.

“Give me uh,” she pointed at the satchel. She had to give herself a mental shake, to get her mind back on the job. “Get me a slotted screwdriver.” She walked to the nearest panel, knelt on the soft carpet, and held out her hand.

Hours ticked by. As Elspeth worked her way toward the heart of the Marriage Machine, she handed each machine part to Ramsay. He in turn, arranged each piece on a sheet behind him, in the order she gave it to him. They worked swiftly, efficiently, and never spoke a word, until Elspeth arrived at the ornate brass frame that formerly held the ruby.

“What were you going to do with the ruby anyway?” Ramsay asked, breaking the hours of silence.

She shrugged. “I hadn’t decided. I just didn’t want to store it at my Aunt Fi’s house and get her in trouble. So I buried it.”

“I see.”

“I never could have sold it. A citizen with a stone like that?” she shook her head as she unfastened the large nuts behind the frame. “I would have been sent to the camps for sure.”

“So you didn’t think further than burying the jewel?” Ramsay asked.

“No. I didn’t think anyone would ever find out it had been taken.”

“I see.” Ramsay sighed and took a gear housing out of her hands. “You should never let your guard down, Elspeth. You should always assume that you are being watched.”

“I know that,” she replied. “Now.”

After a half-hour, she lifted the front of the frame off and set it at her feet.

“Ready?” Ramsay asked behind her.

“If I must.” She sighed. “This goes against everything I believe in.”

“Do it for my great-grandfather.”

“I don’t give a fig for your great-grandfather.”

“Then do it for me.”

She pressed her lips together. There was no denying the regard she felt for Mark Ramsay was growing with every minute she spent in his company. But she could never let him know.

“For you?” she forced a laugh. “That’s a real motivator, Ramsay.”

He fell silent behind her, and she turned slightly to find his expression had changed from open to closed. Surprise and guilt washed over her. She had never guessed she possessed the power to hurt a man’s feelings.

Without a retort for once, he pivoted and reached into the satchel for a bundle wrapped in wool. Elspeth watched him slip the ruby out of the cloth.

She could not deny the allure of the jewel, no matter how she felt about the Marriage Machine. Even in the low light of the lamp, the ruby glowed as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Ramsay pushed it toward her outstretched hands.

“Careful,” he warned. “And no tricks. One slip, and the jewel will shatter.”

“I’ll be careful.” She took the jewel in both of her palms and lifted it toward the frame.

They didn’t speak again until the Marriage Machine had been reassembled, cleaned, and polished to perfection.

As dawn crept over the frozen city, Elspeth and Ramsay whisked back in silence to the Ramsay townhouse. Elspeth kept her eyes on the road and her hands in her lap, and wished she had some of the ice outside to place upon her newly skinned knuckles. They parked under the house again, and Ramsay told her to follow him, but held a finger to his lips.

“My family is here,” he warned. “They must have arrived for the wedding while we were gone.”

She remained standing by the Flying Horse. “I should go.”

“
Where
will you go?” He mounted the stairs. “You can’t go to your aunt’s. The police may have questions about the ruby that you would be better off not answering.”

“You promised me safe passage to the north.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not today.”

“When, then?”

“You’ll have to have a pass. I’ll have to get one for you.”

“How long will that take?”

“A day or two.” He put his hand on the latch of the door. “Or you could wait and go back with my family. They would get you through the border without a problem.”

“Would they agree to such a thing?”

“They would do whatever I asked.”

“I see.” She paused, wondering what it would be like to have such power and such loyalty as the Ramsay clan seemed to possess.

“So you must come inside. You have only to wait a few days, whatever you decide to do. And then you shall be a free woman.”

She took a step toward him. “What will I do in the meantime?”

“Whatever you like.” He opened the door to the main level. “What do you normally do in your free time?”

“Work.”

He smiled down at her. “That you shall not do here.”

“It’s all I know.”

“Well, you’re going to have to change your spots, Shutterhouse, at least until after the wedding.”

Chapter Five

Elspeth padded after Ramsay as he strode into the house. She assumed he would take her up to the huge bedchamber on the first floor, but he turned left before mounting the grand staircase.

“Drink?” he asked. “I confess I need to transition before I can sleep.”

“Thank you, I would like one.”

He nodded and ushered her into what had once been the library off the main hall. The books had been confiscated long ago during the cleansing, leaving a bank of polished walnut shelves. Instead of books, the shelves displayed stuffed animals, trophies, and cut and polished stones.

Ramsay headed toward a cabinet at the end of the library as Elspeth wandered to the center of the large and unnecessary room, taking in yet another aspect of the wealth of the Ramsay family. But her survey was cut short by a sharp rap behind her.

She whirled around, shocked to see an ancient man in a wheelchair in the doorway. He looked like a skeleton dressed in a suit. His face was dotted with age spots, his ears were enormous in comparison to his waspish neck. But he still had an amazing head of white hair that floated in the air around his skull. This had to be Mark’s beloved great-grandfather. Before Elspeth could utter a greeting, he rapped the floor again with his cane and glowered.

“Where the devil have you been?” he shouted. His wrinkled lips showed a surprising number of teeth in such an old human being.

“Out wenching,” Mark replied. He strolled up beside Elspeth and offered her a glass of cut crystal. Then he leaned over and patted his great-grandfather on the shoulder. “Nothing to worry about, Gramps. Don’t overtax yourself.”

“Overtax? Overtax?” the old man’s icy eyes blazed. “Your mother has been beside herself wondering where you are. I doubt she slept a wink. And who the devil is this?” He jabbed his cane at Elspeth.

She had to steel herself to keep from stepping backward.

“The wench I was wenching with.”

Elspeth blushed scarlet. She was not accustomed to such confrontation or such language, especially with a member of the older generation. The ancient man’s blue regard raced over her. He snorted in contempt.

“Don’t look like the wenching sort.”

“I’m not,” Elspeth shot back, insulted by the old man’s rude behavior--and the young man’s as well. Had they lost their manners? No one had even introduced her.

“I’m Elspeth Shutterhouse, mechanic.”

“You don’t say,” the old man retorted. He cocked one brow and glared at her hands. “And what brings a mechanic to my house at the ungodly hour of six a.m.?”

Elspeth noticed Mark taking a swig of his whisky, as if playing for time. Of course, he couldn’t divulge what they’d been doing for the past ten hours. Maybe he was having trouble coming up with an alibi.

“Actually, your great-grandson came to my assistance.”

“Oh?” the blue stare shifted to Ramsay. “In what way?”

“He helped me escape from my indenture. I was apprenticed to a man who was very cruel to me. In fact he used me as a slave. I would never have got away, had it not been for Citizen Ramsay.”

“Heroics? Mark?”

Mark nodded and took another drink.

“He found me on the road last night, running for my life. My master actually caught up with me, however, and dragged me back. It took Citizen Ramsay a good deal of time and trouble, but he freed me early this morning. And here I am.”

The intense stare landed on her again. “And what does my great-grandson propose to do with you?”

“Shutterhouse would make a good addition to the compound.”

“Or anywhere else on the Outer Islands,” she put in, certain she would rather be free of the Ramsays if they were all as rude as this.

“She’s a hard worker, Gramps. She’s careful.”

“And how do you know such things?”

“My boss told him.” Elspeth clutched her drink, hoping the old man would believe her tall tale. “That’s why he wanted me back so badly.”

“How old are you, young lady?”

She threw back her shoulders. “Twenty-five. And I have a good fifty-five years of work in me, at least.”

“Hmph.” The bushy white brows lowered as the older Ramsay inspected her.

“I don’t believe you’re a wench, but I don’t believe your story, either.”

Elspeth paled, fearful that she might be thrown out on the street without a pass to the north.

“That coat you’re wearing.” He pointed the tip of the cane at the long wool garment Elspeth still had on. “People think I’m deaf, blind and doddering in the bargain. But I recognize my granddaughter’s town coat when I see it.”

“It was in the Flying Horse,” Ramsay put in. “Elspeth was cold. Frozen to the bone in fact.”

“A likely tale, boy.”

“I told Shutterhouse she could have safe passage north,” Mark put in. “We could use more citizens like her in the Outer Islands.”

“And how do you expect that to occur?” the old man turned to stare up at his great-grandson. “Does she have papers?”

“No. But surely you can get her through.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I made a promise to her.”

Elspeth was highly conscious that Mark remained standing shoulder to shoulder with her, lending his support in the face of the older Ramsay’s censure. Still, Elspeth found herself holding her breath.

Alexander Ramsay wrapped his gnarled fingers around the handle of his cane and scowled. “I don’t know what you two have been up to. But it’s high time you made your presence known to your mother, boy. Off with you.”

Mark cupped Elspeth’s elbow. “Shutterhouse?” He urged her toward the door.

“Not her,” Ramsay barked. “She stays. Let her finish her drink.”

Elspeth knew she was doomed.

Elspeth watched Mark leave the library. She sipped her drink, uncomfortable and worried. She could feel Alexander Ramsay staring at her.

“The truth, young lady.” He squinted one of his eyes as he peered up at her. “I will have it. Now.”

Something told Elspeth she would never leave this library and likely never leave Londo, unless she told the truth to the gentleman in the wheelchair—or at least a teeny, weenie version of the truth. She put her glass on a side table and slipped out of the luxurious wool coat.

“I work for the SteamWizards.” She stepped closer so the old man could see her uniform.

Ramsay shot a glance at the badge above her right breast.

“I’m one of their top mechanics.”

“You don’t say.”

His scrutiny brought back the dogma from her childhood.

Women are wrong if they think they are strong.

Elspeth held herself as straight as possible.

He sat back. “I could tell by your knuckles that you work with your hands.”

She nodded. “I was called to make a repair, and that’s how I met your great-grandson.”

“So your apprenticeship story was claptrap.”

“Yes.”

“Why the lie?”

“Because Mark believes you are too fragile to handle the truth.”

“The devil!” He stamped his cane on the ground. “What truth?”

“He thinks you would not survive the shock should you discover the Marriage Machine needed to be repaired.”

Ramsay’s jaw fell open, but that was the extent of any physical reaction on his part. He quickly recovered his composure. “Something went wrong with the machine?” he demanded.

“Technically, no.” Elspeth took another step closer, warming to the crusty old man as she had warmed to his great-grandson. “It’s my opinion that the machine had been tampered with.”

“Tampered with?” Ramsay bellowed. “No one would dare!”

“But I fixed it. It was a simple repair. Probably caused during transport.”

“I’ll have Davies’ head!”

“Sir, it was a simple puncture. It could have happened to anyone. Anytime.” She crossed her arms. “But the Marriage Machine is as good as new—unfortunately.”