The Alchemy of Blood by Brian Stableford

Author:Brian Stableford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alchemy;steampunk;london;science;experiments
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2018-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER X

At the evening meal, Mathieu met up with Michael MacBride. Neither of them had been granted places on the Captain’s narrow table, being too far down the status hierarchy of the Pendark’s brief passenger list, but neither of them took the slur to heart. “It won’t be too uncomfortable in the crew quarters, I hope?” Michael said to the Irishman.

“No, sir. I’ve slept in a hammock many a time, and a good percentage of the crew is Irish. Former canal-diggers and railway laborers, mostly. Navvies to the navy, in a manner of speaking. We have tales to swap—we’ll get along just fine. How’s the girl?

“Seasick—but getting better, in more ways than one.”

“I’m glad. Mam’zelle de Valcoeur’s been telling me what kinds of duties I might have at her château. Sounds like easy work, although I can’t really judge. Lots of vines, apparently, and no potatoes. Looking after horses, too—I can do that. The girls are very pretty, she says, but she’s told me to beware of her little maid. Breaks hearts, she says—but I can stand that, and the little darling’s promised to help me learn French. All in all, the Château de Valcoeur sounds like one step from paradise to me, but we’ll see.”

“Mademoiselle de Valcoeur gave me an explanation of sorts of what they expect of me, but it was short on detail. They’ll have plenty of time to fill the picture in before we get to Bordeaux. Will you go ashore in Cherbourg?”

“Have to. Philippe needs me to carry stuff. Got to get clean clothes for you and the girl, apparently, and other necessities. There wasn’t time in London, with doing everything in such a hurry, and there won’t be another chance until Bordeaux. I’ll get some sleep before we dock, though. It’s no trouble. Will you be you staying with your patient?”

“Yes. I’m sorry for the way things worked out, Michael. This must be a terrible wrench for you.”

MacBride shrugged. “Could have been a lot worse,” he said. “It’s Mrs. Driscoll and Sean’s boys I feel sorry for. It’s hard for widows, when you have a landlord like Templeforth, even when he isn’t bearing a grudge. Should I have left him to burn, do you think, sir?”

Mathieu considered the question for a moment, and then said: “No. You did the right thing. And he’s not really a monster. I don’t think he’ll persecute the widow and children of a man he’s shot in a fit of rage. I don’t say that he’ll be generous, but he’s surely not completely malevolent.”

MacBride seemed to weigh the question up, and then said: “Sean knew him way back when, and thought it was worth coming to see him. He thought we had a chance of making him see sense, if we could only talk to him face to face, so he can’t be all bad. I hope you’re right, sir—and I want to thank you for looking out for me. You didn’t have to do that, and you seem to have helped me land on my feet.

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