Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone and the Clockwork Suitor by L.C. Mawson

Author:L.C. Mawson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: android, robot, clockwork, no romance
Publisher: L.C. Mawson
Published: 2018-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

11

“This is never going to fool anyone,” Thomas said with folded arms as he glared at Mech.

“It’s going to work fine,” Ruth said as she and Ivy finished covering his skeletal hands with gloves. Ruth had wanted more of a solid covering for him, but time was not on her side. And it wasn’t as if anyone would see it anyway.

“How do I look?” Mech asked as Ruth and Ivy stepped back to admire their handiwork.

“Not bad,” Ruth told him honestly.

His coat and trousers hung well over his metallic frame, making him very much appear as a man. The only thing giving him away was his head, which still very much looked like a metal skull.

“What about his head?” Thomas asked, echoing Ruth’s thought process.

“We can cover it,” Ruth figured as she moved over to the selection of wigs and masks she and Ivy had picked up.

“What could possibly cover him to the extent that will fool anyone?”

Ivy sighed at him as Ruth found a decent prospect.

“You’re not being very sporting,” she said as Ruth made her way back over to Mech.

“I’m sorry if I don’t want to be caught lying to the Queen of England.”

“You won’t be,” Ruth assured him. “Mech only has to get through this one ball. We don’t even have to stay that long. He just has to be seen.”

She pulled the wig and mask over Mech’s head and adjusted them so that all of his metal parts were covered. His eyes still had an eerie and not altogether human quality about them, but she supposed that couldn’t be helped.

“He can’t wear a mask all of the time. And he looks ridiculous with every inch of his skin covered like that. Even your fashion sense cannot make that look reasonable.”

“You could say he’s foreign,” Ivy figured.

“Yes!” Ruth agreed, bouncing a little with excitement at the idea. “The French always have ridiculous fashion sense.”

“Does he speak French?” Thomas asked.

“No, but that will be easy enough to remedy. I taught him English, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but you speak English. You do not speak French, or do you not remember your crying fits that had your tutor give up?”

“Je parle français,” Ivy said.

“Pardon?”

“I speak French,” she clarified.

Thomas’ eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Where did you learn to speak French?”

“Sailors, mostly. Traders from across the channel. Hanging around the docks annoyed my mum and it was a good way to cure boredom. Every so often, when she was being too overbearing, I would threaten to abscond to Paris with some new lad. Always sent her into a rage.”

“Used to?” Thomas asked, folding his arms.

Ivy shrugged. “When I started working here, I was suddenly in much less of a hurry to end up in trouble.”

“Probably because Ruth provides more than enough trouble for anyone.”

Ivy smiled. “Probably.”

Thomas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Ever since Ruth had proposed her plan to have Mech pretend to be The Owl, he had been noticeably stressed. Even with her faith in her abilities, Ruth had to admit that she was struggling with sleep even more than usual.

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