The Escapement of Blackledge: a novella by Kowal Mary Robinette

Author:Kowal, Mary Robinette [Kowal, Mary Robinette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-03-27T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mechanical Arm

Weatherby paced in his laboratory from the workbench, to the library table, to a chair and then back to the table. He had troubled Bartlett for an evening tray of cheeses and fruit. A decanter of port gleamed in the light next to a pair of glasses. He titled his head back to look at the skylight, which he had opened all the way. How long would it take her to reach his home?

She might not come. But she had come to George's. Surely that meant something.

It meant that she needed his mechanical arm. He turned from the skylight and walked back to the workbench. His father had always told him that there were but two circumstances in which a nobleman would have intercourse before marriage and neither of them were good. In one instance, it was a matter of forcing one's will upon someone who could not refuse. Dishonorable, though by no means uncommon.

In the other instance, it was because the young woman wanted something, be that money or power. Or a mechanical arm.

But given her story, he could not begrudge her need for it. If her story were true. If she were not merely playing upon his affections. There was a simple way to find out, at least some portion of truth.

A soft knock sounded on the glass overhead.

Weatherby spun and his heart seemed to go on spinning. Helena crouched at the opening to the skylight in her black shirt, with her golden hair pulled back in a knot.

She smiled down at him. "Mind if I drop in?"

"Please-- Please, be my guest."

She put her hands on the edge of the sill and leaned forward. Like the most marvelous machine, she flipped in the air and landed neatly upon the table, taking up the excess momentum with her bent knees, and then transferred it into another jump, again spinning in the air as she dropped to stand upon the ground. The elegance of the movement tightened his throat.

"Thank you for the invitation."

He started toward the table. "Would you care for some port?"

"My dear Lord Blackledge... Are you trying to take advantage of me?" She leaned against the table and her smile turned coy.

"More accurately, I am trying to take advantage of myself." He picked up the decanter and it slipped in his sweating palms. Weatherby tightened his grip and poured two glasses. "The brandy is wearing off."

"Ah." She accepted the glass, her fingers just brushing his. "Thank you. Though I am not certain if I should be flattered that you wish to be taken advantage of, or dismayed that it takes being deep in your cups."

Weatherby looked into the dark liquid. "May I meet your father?"

At the edge of his vision, Helena put her glass down on the table. "I beg your pardon?"

"I studied his work with automatons." He twirled the glass for something to do with his hands. In truth, he wanted to know if the man existed. "I should like to meet him."

She sighed. “Are you not concerned that I will simply produce a badly burned man and say that he is Lord Worthen.

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