air must be agreeing with you.”
“Is this it?” His eyes lit up as he saw the box.
A warm spark of something sinfully proud reared itself in her chest. There were very few things she’d ever been good at. “It is,” she breathed. “Oh, you should see it. It works exactly as I’d planned.”
“May I?”
At her nod, he ushered her toward the counter. The walls seemed to encroach the farther one went into the shop due to dozens of hanging, ticking clocks that loomed off the plaster. As his apprentice, Lena had grown used to the sight of them. Mrs. Wade, however, hovered near the windows, glaring at the swinging pendulums from the safe depths of her bonnet.
Mr. Mandeville placed the box on the counter and slid a glance toward Mrs. Wade. “Old Dragon-Breath is still in the dark?”
“She thinks I’ve come to see if you’ve any orders for me.” The work was steady enough to keep her occupied, though she had to do so under her brother’s name. A Charlie Todd original clockwork toy went for a rather generous price. They weren’t always for children either, though Lena took the most pleasure from those commissions.
“Hmm.” Mandeville opened the box and slid his long fingers under the foot-high clockwork. He lifted it reverently and set it on the counter. “Oh, my. Oh, Lena, this is your finest work. He’s utterly magnificent. Wherever did you come by the inspiration for such a thing? I assume it walks?”
Steel overlapping plates drew the eye, burnished to a polished gleam. The clockwork sculpture was a man, a burly figure carved from iron sheeting and seething with an interior of springs and coils. It stood on a metal plate, with a windup key at the back. Heat crept into her cheeks. The last thing she could admit was her inspiration. She’d never before dared take this image from the sheets of paper she sketched upon to work in iron sheeting. “It does more than that. Here, let me show you.”
The key grew tighter and tighter to turn. The figure trembled, his rough-hewn face jerking almost with violence. How apt , she thought, then let the key go.
For a moment nothing happened. The virile iron man quivered, and then slowly the gears started turning. The plates slid back upon each other, revealing a swift glimpse of the cogs within. Then a creature began to form, just as wild and fierce as the iron man had been.
Mandeville sucked in a breath. Lena watched his face as he tugged his magnifying glassicals up and peered closer. “My goodness, Lena! It’s incredible. Look at it transform! One moment a man, the next a wolf.”
She put her hand on his. “Wait.”
Breathlessly they both watched as the wolf slid back into the man, the clockwork gears grinding slower and slower, until finally it stopped, caught in transition, the man’s face scowling out over a hint of the wolf’s jaws.
“Well? What do you think?”
Mandeville let out his breath and cleaned his glassicals. “You truly have a gift, my dear. This is beyond compare. Beyond!” Her heart swelled, until she saw him shake his head. “However, you’ll never sell it. What on earth possessed you to create such a thing? The Echelon will have you thrown in the dungeons of the Ivory Tower!”
“Maybe a year ago,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder at Mrs. Wade. Her voice dropped. “Times are changing, Mr. Mandeville. There’s talk of the Scandinavian Empire sending an embassy to London.”
Mr. Mandeville stilled. “Where did you hear that?”
“There’s a loose grate…in the ceiling of my guardian’s study,” she admitted. “I often do some of my work in the solar above.”
A conspiratorial smile. As though her ingenuity had surprised him.
“Leo was entertaining the dukes of Malloryn and Goethe yesterday morning. It’s not common knowledge yet, but the Council is concerned.”
Mandeville leaned closer, peering at the clockwork transformational through his glassicals. His attention, however, was all upon her. “I still
Massimo Carlotto, Anthony Shugaar