A Study In Ashes Part 37

Some of the fussing was surely because, having discovered that he could squirm from one place to another, Jeremy was already plotting his next adventure. Being carted about like luggage was beneath his dignity-at least for the next dozen yards. After that, he began to content himself with a speculative gumming of his blanket. The state of blissful silence lasted until they arrived back at Alice's door.

Poppy gathered their shopping while Alice sent one of the footmen out to wrangle the perambulator. Jeremy was starting to nod off, face squashed against his mother's shoulder, and Alice mounted the stairs to the nursery, not even bothering to shed her wraps.

Poppy let Alice go ahead, the fresh air making her yawn. She stowed the packages of embroidery thread and adventure novels that she'd bought-all of them took place in exotic lands and one even had headhunters!-and took off her coat. Then she trotted upstairs, hearing the faint clatter of the housemaids in the kitchen, she hoped making tea.

Alice was just tucking Jeremy into his nest of blankets when Poppy slipped into the room. Alice bent over to kiss her son, a loose strand of her fox-red hair sliding over her brow. "He misses his father," Alice said.

"How can you tell?" Poppy asked dubiously-but still with a pang of guilt and worry.

"I just can."

There was no point in arguing, and after Madam Thala.s.sa and Mouse and Bird, Poppy wasn't sure what to doubt anymore. "I'm sure Tobias wishes he were home."

Alice gave a half smile, her eyes full of complexities. "Thank you for coming today. I was very glad of the company."

Poppy bent over the cradle, wanting to tickle the sleeping baby but knowing better. "I was glad to. I like having someone to visit on my own."

Making a considering sound, Alice turned to adjust the curtains. "It was hard, you know, coming into your family. You and your friends are all so close knit. I didn't have brothers and sisters, so it's been a bit hard knowing how to make a place for myself."

That surprised Poppy. "I think we all just barged our way in."

"Even Evelina?"

"She's always been around," Poppy said, and then wished she hadn't. Alice had tensed-but Poppy soon realized that sudden hunch of the shoulders had nothing to do with what she had said. Thunder was rolling through the air.

"Come look at this," Alice said, the curtains pushed back in one hand. The gray afternoon light washed over her, making a strong contrast to the dim room.

Poppy came up beside her, wary of the tension in her voice. "What is it?"

"Look at that dirigible." Alice pointed to the skyline. "Isn't that the Helios?"

"Yes." The shape of it was seared into Poppy's brain, a souvenir from the night of the air battle. "I wonder what it's doing right over London? It's flying awfully low."

And then its belly opened, and tiny black shapes spilled out. "d.a.m.nation!" Alice cried, grabbing Poppy's arm so hard pain shot through it.

"What?" But Poppy found out in the next instant. The windows rattled as a distant boom shook the entire world, as if a giant boot had just stomped the earth. Not thunder at all. Three more rumbles followed in quick time, and Poppy grabbed for Alice-but she had whirled away, s.n.a.t.c.hing Jeremy from the cradle and clutching him close.

Mrs. Polwarren, the wet nurse, flew into the room, the baby gown she had been mending still in her hand. "Ma'am, what is it?" she demanded in a querulous voice. "What is going on?"

Whatever it was, Poppy couldn't make sense of it. She scrambled back to the window, trying to see more, but there were trees and buildings in the way. What she could see was dirigibles appearing in twos and threes in the northern skies, their balloons a b.l.o.o.d.y red. The Scarlet King's air fleet.

But the Scarlet King was dead. Someone else was raining down destruction. Who? Why? She started to shiver even as she craned her neck to see the airships fly over like swift, silent birds of prey. This was a nightmare. It was completely illogical and awful. She fixed her glare on the dirigibles, willing them back to where they came from. There are people down here. What did they do to deserve this?

Then Alice was at her elbow, still holding the baby as Mrs. Polwarren rustled in the drawers behind them. Alice spoke quietly. "I told her to pack a bag in case we have to leave in a hurry."

Suddenly Poppy wanted to be home so badly her stomach twisted. Im was there, and her mother. "And go where?"

"I don't know," Alice said, her blue eyes suddenly bright with tears. "Someplace safe for Jeremy. I wish Tobias were here!"

She looked so terrified, every bit as bad as Poppy felt. She leaned in close, dropping her voice to nothing. "He is; he's at Bucky's toy factory."

Surprise bloomed on Alice's face. "What?"

Poppy held a finger to her lips, and Alice gave a short, sharp nod. The next moment, a fresh barrage of rumbles growled low and distant. Mrs. Polwarren knocked a picture over on the dresser, making everyone jump. Jeremy started to cry.

Poppy's nerves howled in sympathy. I have to get home. She felt like a small animal needing to bolt for her burrow, and she would feel even better if Alice and the baby came along. She laced her fingers together, squeezing hard to stop the convulsive trembling in her hands. "I can't see anything from here. I'm going up to the attic."

"No, it's too dangerous!" Alice protested, but Poppy was already rushing for the stairs. There was no more danger up there than anywhere else in the house if an airship dropped one of its explosives.

What she wanted wasn't just the attic, but the tiny iron balcony that ran outside the window of the maids' chambers. Poppy hurried through the small room with its sloping walls, stepping carefully around the sewing machine with its pile of mending to get to the window. The balcony was just big enough for a few potted plants and it had the view Poppy wanted. She pushed up the sash and stepped outside, easing her feet between the clay pots filled with geraniums.

The first thing she saw was people milling below, looking up and pointing. A few noticed her and started pointing her way instead.

"What do you see?" a man called up from below.

Poppy shaded her eyes. It wasn't sunny, but the gray sky still held a glare. And now to the east the gray was joined by roiling black smoke. "They're all going toward the Tower," she said.

"Whitechapel?" he called back.

"Closer, I think." At least it wasn't in the direction of Hilliard House. Maybe that was a selfish thought, but she wasn't about to apologize. I want to go home!

Poppy began to feel queasy and gripped the window frame behind her. The balcony didn't have a railing to speak of beyond a lip of black iron curlicues as high as her bootlaces. Fear and vertigo were mixing in her stomach in a most unpleasant way.

But all thoughts vanished when a heavy shadow crept over her, blotting out the light. All noise on the street below stopped. Poppy lifted her face slowly, more than her hands shaking now. The huge belly of an airship was right above the house. She could see the flat wooden bottom of the gondola, close enough that she could make out the edges of the bomb bay doors. Her teeth chattered, and she felt as if it would squash her as mindlessly as a boot sole snuffed out an ant. But that wasn't the right comparison. That flat, threatening expanse above her was more like a face-featureless, pitiless, and wondering if perhaps she ought to be crushed.

A primitive instinct made Poppy crouch, her skirts pooling over the flowerpots. She could hear the growl of the propellers as the gigantic ship sailed overhead. The blood-red balloon told her it was more of Scarlet's forces-one of a trio hanging over the nearby rooftops. "Go, go, go," she whispered, urging it to pa.s.s by, now too scared to even wonder why the airships were there. She just wanted them gone.

The streets below were emptying as the gawkers ran for cover. Her curiosity crumpling, Poppy began to climb back inside the attic window, but not before she saw a black victoria pull up in front of the house. She paused long enough to untangle her skirts from the flowers, and glanced down to see Jasper Keating jump from the carriage and stumble to the front door. Something about the way he moved didn't look right.

Poppy gave the airships one last baleful look and closed the window. She didn't like the Gold King, but maybe Keating was there to take them someplace safe-or at least he might take her home. She clattered down the attic stairs, but slowed when she got to the carpeted hall that ran past the bedrooms. She could hear the nurse singing to Jeremy, trying to hush the baby as he made small, uneasy noises.

Instinct told her to move quietly as she descended to the drawing room. Perhaps it was the same sense of self-preservation that told her when her parents were arguing, because she could hear the Gold King's raised voice as she drew near.

"The laboratories are destroyed," Keating barked.

"I know," Alice replied. "I read the newspaper."

Poppy paused just outside the door, which was slightly ajar. She'd heard about the business with the secret labs as well, and had been hugely interested in the few news reports she'd been able to read. But why are they arguing about this when someone is bombing London? Surely the immediate threat of destruction was more important?

And yet nothing tempted her to interrupt the conversation. The air in the drawing room nearly glittered with tension. Poppy could see both speakers, but at an oblique angle. Alice was standing with her back to the tall window, the daylight embracing her like a cloak. She clasped her hands in front of her, standing close to her father.

Keating's black suit looked rumpled and his temper was in even worse condition. "They were all party to it!" he fumed.

"Who?" asked Alice.

"The Baskervilles. Holmes."

Poppy tilted her head, pushing the hair away from her ear to listen. Now the servants were hurrying to and fro upstairs, probably packing, and their heavy tread was making it harder to eavesdrop.

Alice's voice fell to a pleading tone. "You're not making sense, Father. Sir Charles is dead, and Mr. Holmes is investigating his murder."

Keating was pacing, moving in and out of Poppy's line of sight. By the way he was moving, she could tell he'd been hurt. He was holding his arm at a strange angle, and then she realized that it was in a hastily tied sling. "I know that, girl. But Holmes requested that niece of his, and I sent her there with your husband."

"I still don't understand the problem."

"It's plain," he snapped. "The Cooper girl disappeared the night the laboratories burned, and the survivors claim it was magic that brought them down. Madam Thala.s.sa was seen in the neighborhood."

Poppy gasped, creeping a step closer. Madam Thala.s.sa? And Mr. Holmes was in the area as well. Had they been working together?

"Are you saying Evelina Cooper played a role in the destruction of Her Majesty's Laboratories?" Alice asked incredulously.

"Don't underestimate her."

Poppy was too close now, but she couldn't bring herself to back away. She had to hear this. And she was beginning to worry, because Keating was waving a finger just under Alice's nose. "And your precious husband let her go."

"Impossible!" Alice protested, her voice rising again with anger. "Why would he disobey you?"

"The Cooper girl couldn't have escaped without his aid. She was wearing restraints and he had the key. And she had to have an accomplice because these restraints have the means to tell me where she's gone. She left so fast, so secretly, and went so far she had to have someone waiting to take her away."

"Where is she?" Alice sounded incredulous.

"So far away that she's beyond the range of my device. But she was heading west when I lost her. And it's all Roth's doing."

"But ..." Alice trailed off, and Poppy caught her breath, suddenly terrified that she would give away the fact that Tobias was in town. All the more because it was plain that Tobias wasn't looking for Evelina. Whether he'd been responsible for her escape or not, he had let her go-and Alice would realize that.

But instead, the red-haired woman rounded on her father. "Have you stopped to think that the reason Tobias has his reservations about you might be because you threatened his family and bullied him into working for you?"

"Forced him to marry you, you mean?" he said with oily sarcasm.

Poppy gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth to stop the sound. How can he say that to his own daughter? If she were Alice, she'd be mortified.

But Alice was braver than that, unclasping her hands and pulling herself straight. "We've made a home."

"Yes, I can see that," said Keating quietly. "I would be proud of you if it was anyone else."

"The marriage was your idea. There was a time when I would rather have crawled home in defeat, but you wouldn't hear of it. So I stayed and made it work."

Oblivious, Keating paced in a tight circle, his coat furling behind him, and then suddenly stopped to lean with his good arm braced against the wall. "I thought he'd come to heel. G.o.d knows there is enough money and power to tempt him, but I see what he's thinking behind those fine manners. And so I don't trust him."

Alice said nothing.

"And I don't trust you. Both of you know too much for me to leave you like threads waiting to unravel. I need to tie you off in a st.u.r.dy knot."

Alice stiffened. "What does that mean?"

What did that mean? Poppy suddenly sensed danger in the air like something she could taste. The fear she'd felt on the balcony quickened again, but this time it was more immediate. I don't know what to do, she thought desperately. These were deeper waters than she'd ever experienced before.

"Tobias knows far too much about my army. He built the d.a.m.n thing," Keating growled, leaning in so his face was just inches from his daughter's. "And there aren't many ways of guaranteeing his silence."

"Guaranteeing his silence?" Alice repeated incredulously.

Keating's voice turned to ice. "I had to rethink my position about your little family, Alice. It's amazing what pa.s.ses through one's mind while a medic is digging a bullet from one's flesh. This afternoon changed everything. I concluded I need to be more careful about my enemies right now."

"Since when am I your enemy, Father?"

A cry of surprise came from upstairs. The nurse. Poppy spun and rushed toward the stairs. Right then she realized what the Gold King meant. Three of his Yellowbacks were hurrying down the stairs in their long black coats. They must have gone upstairs using the servants' staircase, because Poppy hadn't seen them enter. But that's what I heard. Those weren't servants thundering overhead.

She'd almost recovered from her surprise when the next shock came. Behind the first two Yellowbacks was the much smaller figure of Mrs. Polwarren, holding Jeremy cradled in her arms. The third had his weapon drawn and pointed at the pale-faced figures of the other servants who stood cl.u.s.tered on the landing above.

"What are you doing?" Poppy cried, terrified but dumbfounded all the same.

Jeremy sent up an angry wail. Alice rushed from the drawing room, but Keating caught her midstride. He cried out in pain, but the sudden stop jerked Alice off her feet so roughly that she dangled for a moment in her father's hand. "What is the meaning of this?" she all but shrieked.

None of this had stopped the progress of the Yellowbacks. Baby wailing, they carried on down the stairs, their hard faces set. The sound of Jeremy's distress made her too furious to give in without a fight. Poppy rushed to get between them and the door, throwing herself before it so hard that she felt the dig of the k.n.o.b in her back. I'm a viscount's daughter. They can't do anything to me.

But the Yellowbacks simply shoved her aside as if she were no more than a bothersome cat. Poppy slipped and fell on the slick tile, banging into the wall. Her elbow sang with agony, making her eyes water. "Stop!" she snarled, scrambling back to her feet.

But there were two more Yellowbacks emerging from the back of the house. They were carrying enormous aether rifles, and one of them trained his weapon on Poppy. Suddenly, she wasn't so confident that her father's name protected her.

Alice hadn't stopped screaming at her father. "Why are you taking my baby?"

Keating had endured enough. He shoved her away and then cradled his injured arm. "It's the one thing I know will keep you and your precious husband in check."

"But it's not safe!" Poppy protested. "Someone is attacking London."

Keating rounded on her, his face ashen. He looked haggard, his eyes wild and sunken deep into his face. "That's me dropping the bombs, you stupid chit."

He swept out, following his men, and the last two guards followed him. Alice lurched after, but Poppy rushed to her side, grabbing her before the Yellowbacks interfered. She was terrified that they might just shoot.

"Let me go!" Alice tried to free herself, but Poppy just clung more tightly.

Tears leaked from under Poppy's lashes. "No, they'll hurt you and then no one will be there to save Jeremy."

She heard the baby wailing all the way to the victoria, and the sound dragged her heart bruised and aching after. Within seconds, a whip snapped and wheels sc.r.a.ped on the cobbles. Soon Jeremy's voice was drowned by the sound of clopping hooves.

Alice slumped against the wall, weeping. "Why is he doing this to me? He's my father!"

Shame and rage seared Poppy. Now that the guns were out of sight, she was trembling so hard that her legs were almost useless. A cold sweat just added to the shivering. I should have been able to do something. It would have been better if she'd had a gun of her own. "We'll get him back."

Alice's eyes were wild. "How?"

"We'll get Tobias. Mr. Keating might think he's got you trapped, but Tobias is clever. He'll figure out a way to beat him at his own game."

But Poppy gulped as she said the words, even though they seemed to give Alice hope. If Tobias was at Bucky's toy factory, he was in the midst of the war zone. So how were they going to get there?

London, October 8, 1889.