Page 7 of Heart of Iron
Except by circumstances.
“I can’t believe they’re carrying on so in public,” Adele continued.“He might as well throw her down now and have her.”
Caught in her own discomfort, Lena’s voice was sharper than she intended.“Sheathe your claws before you cut yourself.”
Adele shot her a devastating smile, one that had won half the hearts in the Echelon.And then broken them.“Miaow,” she purred.
Despite her unease, Lena couldn’t stop an answering smile from tugging at her lips.Adele was the kind of friend you certainly couldn’t trust, but after the debacle last year where she was caught in the gardens with Lord Fenwick—who later refused to contract her—Adele was also an outcast of sorts.She’d clawed her way back into society via an icy heart and an unwavering smile, but her time, like Lena’s, was running out.And unlike Lena, who was here for a purpose, Adele had no other options in life.
A crowd was gathering in front of the curtained stage.Service drones hovered, the silver platters fitted on their heads offering an array of beverages.Lena slipped another pair of champagne flutes from the tray, avoiding the drone’s steam vent.They were highly practical, rolling quietly through the crowds, but more than one young lady’s dress had been ruined and Lena was wearing crushed violet silk.
She kept an ear open as she moved through the crowd, idly listening—and then discarding—conversations.Being a debutante was the perfect disguise.In a way, she was almost invisible.People said things in front of her that they would otherwise have kept quiet.
It was a most convenient way to spy.She barely had todoanything at all.
“Puppets.”Adele shook her head.Yet, she too gathered in front of the stage, desperate not to miss a thing.
The night was mild, stars glittering overhead.Lena looked up, her vision adjusting to the light.A thousand diamonds, her mother used to say when she was a little girl.“All for me,” Lena would cry, and her mother would laugh and kiss her good night.
Now the stars seemed to have lost some of their luster, and the diamonds too.The world around her was too bright, too shiny, all silk and gold and malicious laughter.The world of the Echelon had once been the only thing she’d ever wanted, and now that she danced along its verge, she couldn’t help wondering if there was something more out there for her.
Not that she would ever admit that.
She’d begged her sister, Honoria, for this chance when it became clear that there was nothing left in Whitechapel for her.Pleaded for weeks to be allowed back to her former life, and the possibility of making a thrall contract.
Strangely enough, an ally had come from an unexpected source: Leo Barrons, her half brother.As heir to the Duke of Caine, Leo could never reveal the truth of their connection—and his own illegitimacy—but he’d offered to take her as his ward and Lena had gratefully accepted.When her father had been alive, she’d hovered on the edge of the Echelon.Now, with a man as powerful as Leo as her guardian, she was embraced completely.
And she’d never felt more alone.
An uneasy feeling lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.The sharp, horrible sensation of being watched.Lena looked around but there was no one there.Something hissed and she flinched.It sounded like a kettle giving vent to its rage.The crowd pressed closer and conversation dimmed.On stage, the tinny sound of an organ grinder began to play.
It struck a chord in her memory; the raucous sounds and laughter of Whitechapel, the press of unwashed bodies, and the bawdy language that she’d pretended not to memorize.Music on the streets, in the penny gaff houses.A sound best forgotten.She’d left Whitechapel behind a year ago.It felt longer.In that time, she’d lost all of her youthful pretensions and realized exactly what type of world she lived in—and the fact that there was very little she could do about it.
But what she could do about it, she would.There was a movement brewing to restore humans to equal status as blue bloods—no more blood taxes, no more martial law, no more involuntary thralls—and she was in an ideal position to help them.Lena had access to a host of the Echelon’s secrets…if she kept her ears open.
“It seems Miss Bishop has a monkey after all,” Adele whispered.
“Shush,” Lena said, rising on her toes to see.As she did, she ran her gaze across the crowd, relaxing only when she realized there was no one watching her.
Justnerves… She was safe here, with the crowd and Adele at her side.
The curtains parted with a melodramatic jerk.On the terrace, the gas lamps suddenly faded, the muted flames casting a surreal blue light across the gathering.Steam curled out, obscuring a figure on the center of the stage.Its arms jerked into the air, the strings clearly visible against the gaslight.
“Marionettes,” Adele dismissed.
The Contract Ball of Miss Bishop had been talked about for the last month astheevent of the Season.Gossip had promised delights and curios far beyond anything ever seen, but so far the night had been disappointing.Lena relaxed down onto her heels just as the crowd gave an appreciative gasp.
“Oh my,” Adele said.“Look, the strings have fallen!”
And so they had.The marionette gave a feeble jerk, its arms collapsing to its sides.And then slowly, with the mysterious steam curling around its feet, it began to straighten.
“It’s an automaton,” Lena said.
The metal creature began to move, his hands coming up as though he held someone in his arms.Against the tinny organ-grinder music, he began to waltz.
Lena’s mouth dropped open.She’d seen numerous service drones and dozens of the armored metaljackets that protected the streets and imposed the Echelon’s will, but she’d never seen anything like this.Why, the joints were streamlined, and the movement of the automaton was peculiarly fluid, almost human.
The performance came to an end, the organ-grinder winding down slowly.The automaton’s pace slowed and it began to falter in time to the music.Whoever the handler was, he was a man of great skill.
