The Inventor's Secret

  Jack’s already bleak expression became even more strained. “Linnet?” He glanced at Charlotte. “She’s seen Linnet?”

  “Of course Charlotte has seen Linnet,” Coe replied. “Our sister retrieves all the pirate’s lost treasures. You know that.”

  Jack didn’t reply, but his face had taken on a gray pallor.

  Ash looked at Coe. “Do you really think she’ll find Grave?”

  “I do.” Coe smiled. “Ott controls a larger network of informants than the Imperial Espionage Bureau can boast. And Linnet is Ott’s right hand. She’ll find your runaway and have him back here soon enough.”

  “Linnet is coming here?” Jack stormed across the room, giving Coe a hard shove that made Charlotte gasp. “Do you care about our mother at all?”

  “Mother will never know Linnet was here,” Coe said, changing his earlier tune to echo Lord Ott’s assurances. “Linnet isn’t sloppy enough to let our mother see her. You know that.”

  Jack glared at his brother, but remained silent.

  Ash gently took Charlotte’s arm. “You should sleep.”

  “We all should,” Coe agreed. “There’s nothing more to be done tonight.”

  Coe raised his tumbler and knocked back the brandy in one swallow. “I wish you a good rest.”

  Offering Charlotte a quick bow, Coe left the room. Ash still held Charlotte by the elbow, and she walked beside him from the drawing room. When they reached the door, Jack called out, “Charlotte, could I have a moment?”

  Ash frowned at him. “She should rest, Jack. What’s the matter?”

  “I’ll see her upstairs shortly, Ash,” Jack said as he crossed the room. “You have my word.”

  Ash glanced from Jack to Charlotte, his brow knit together. “I don’t—”

  “Please, Ashley,” Jack said quietly.

  “Very well,” Ash replied, though he was clearly taken aback. Leaning in to kiss Charlotte’s cheek, Ash said, “Good night, Lottie.”

  “Good night.” She gave Ash a tired smile, but her heart was pattering against her ribs.

  When Ash left them, Jack took Charlotte’s hands in his, and Charlotte was suddenly very awake. He reached up and unbuttoned the brass fastenings of Coe’s coat.

  “What are you doing?” Charlotte pushed his fingers away when he sought to bare her shoulder.

  “I don’t trust that you’re not injured,” Jack said. “Let me see.”

  “I’m not,” Charlotte told him. “What gives you the right to inspect me?”

  “My concern for your well-being.” His voice was so gentle that Charlotte relented and allowed him to open the coat.

  It took only a glimpse of Charlotte’s naked, unmarred flesh for Jack to clear his throat and avert his gaze. He kept his other hand linked with hers.

  “I told you,” Charlotte said as heat crept into her cheeks.

  “Are you sure you’re all right otherwise?” Jack asked. “After the attack? I know how unsavory the Iron Forest brigands are.”

  Charlotte nodded. His fingers were strong and warm as they clasped hers.

  Jack averted his gaze. “Linnet—”

  “Seems very brave and very capable,” Charlotte finished for him. He looked up at her in surprise. And Charlotte surprised herself by adding, “I liked her,” and she knew it was true.

  Her words didn’t seem to make Jack happy, but he nodded. “I’m just relieved no harm came to you.”

  Charlotte laughed quietly. “So am I.”

  Her laughter brought a smile to his lips that made Charlotte’s breath quicken.

  “Shall I take you upstairs?” Jack asked. Something about the question sent warmth pooling into Charlotte’s belly.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Jack kept her hand in his as he escorted her up the grand staircase. They stopped at her bedroom door, shrouded in darkness.

  “Charlotte,” Jack murmured.

  She could barely make out his face, but she felt his hand against her cheek. Without thinking, Charlotte leaned her cheek into his palm, turning her face so her lips brushed the heel of his hand. She heard Jack stifle a groan.

  Charlotte quickly straightened, shocked by her own behavior. What had she done? Was she so wanton as this? She’d practically swooned into Coe’s arms earlier that night, and now she was playing the seductress with Jack.

  “I should say good night.” Charlotte’s voice cracked.

  But the weight of Jack’s hands rested on her waist, then moved to her lower back, drawing her forward. The silk of her gown rustled when her body pressed against his.

  “Jack.” Coe’s voice was like the crack of a whip.

  Jack swore. “Hang it all, Coe. What do you think you’re doing?”

  Charlotte couldn’t see Coe through the darkness, but she heard his footsteps as he came down the hall.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Coe said to Jack. “It’s time to bid Miss Marshall good night.”

  “Mind your own business,” Jack snarled.

  Rattled by Coe’s appearance, Charlotte pulled out of Jack’s embrace.

  “Charlotte, don’t.” Jack clasped her hand.

  “Let her go, Jack,” Coe said.

  Jack squeezed Charlotte’s fingers, but with reluctance said, “Good night, Charlotte. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  All Charlotte could do was murmur, “Good night, Jack.”

  Coe stood like a sentinel while Jack stomped down the hall. Charlotte opened her door.

  “Good night, Commodore Winter,” she said quietly. Her mind was a jumble of shock and disappointment.

  “Charlotte.” Coe’s voice made her look over her shoulder. “What exactly has my brother told you about his life before he came to the Catacombs?”

  “Very little,” Charlotte answered. Almost nothing at all. She didn’t voice that thought, given how palpable the tension was between the two brothers. And Charlotte didn’t know what the source of that conflict was.

  As if to himself, Coe said, “That’s what I thought.” Then added, “Sleep well, Charlotte.”

  Coe retreated into the shadows, and Charlotte closed the door.

  19.

  WHEN LINNET HAD not returned Grave to them by lunch the next day, Charlotte worried her way through the opulence of the Winter mansion.

  “Don’t fret,” Coe assured her. “Linnet knows what she’s doing. I’d be shocked if she hasn’t already found the boy, but she’ll be careful to find a way to bring him here without drawing notice. That means it may take a bit longer.”

  Jack had been absent from breakfast and lunch, but Coe offered no explanation. When Charlotte asked Ash about Jack’s whereabouts, her brother dismissed her query with a shake of his head.

  “Jack has other business in the city, Charlotte. It’s not your concern.”

  Charlotte’s other worry had been the chance of another uncomfortable exchange with Lady Winter, especially when she learned they would spend the day confined to the mansion, but Jack and Coe’s mother seemed to split her time between her rooms and the garden. The lady of the manor never joined them in the dining hall, drawing room, or parlor.

  Whiling away hour after hour with Meg and Ash—like his brother, Coe had excused himself to see about his affairs at the Military Platform—Charlotte’s sympathy for Lady Winter increased tenfold. The house was huge and lonely. For all its elegance, the high ceilings and sweeping rooms soon grew oppressive—and unlike Lady Winter, Charlotte had company.

  “Gah! This is intolerable.” Ash stood up as afternoon faded to dusk. “I’ll go out of my mind if I have to sit here another hour.”

  “Hush, Ashley,” Meg said. Of their trio, Meg had remained the most serene that day. She hadn’t spoken of her mother, at least not when Charlotte was present, and Charlotte was surprised Meg could be so calm just ho
urs after that strange reunion.

  “What exactly are we waiting for?” Charlotte asked. “Grave’s return? Or something else?”

  “Jack went out to arrange a meeting for tonight,” Ash admitted.

  “With whom?” Charlotte frowned.

  Ash picked up a kaleidoscope that served as a table decoration and held it up to his eye. “Lord Ott and some key figures of the rebellion from within the Empire.”

  Ash turned the kaleidoscope, but Charlotte saw through his overly casual posture. “Including Lazarus?” she asked.

  “The meeting was supposed to take place last night.” Ash put the kaleidoscope down with a sigh.

  “At the fair,” Charlotte concluded.

  “Jack is worried that Lazarus will go into hiding for now. Last night came too close to exposing him. I don’t know if he’ll be there tonight,” Ash said.

  “But I thought Lord Ott and his associates knew about the raid,” Charlotte said. “Wouldn’t this Lazarus have known as well?”

  “Our friends in the city learned of the raid only an hour before it took place. Most of the meeting’s attendees had already arrived at the fair, including Lazarus. He and the others had to flee to avoid capture,” Ash told her.

  “Like us.” Charlotte remembered too well the onslaught of the hooded enforcers and the Rotpots.

  Ash nodded. “Coe was on his way to warn us about the raid, but you and Grave ran off before he reached us.”

  “Grave ran off,” Charlotte corrected him. “I chased after him.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Meg interjected, pouring a cup of tea from the service Mrs. Blake had provided. “I needed to speak with my mother, and I think her advice about Grave is sound.”

  Ash looked at her with a frown. “We may not have time to visit Athene’s temple.”

  “We have to make time,” Meg insisted. “Grave is important. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Ash seemed skeptical, but Charlotte remembered what Jedda had told her daughter: And you claimed to have none of my gift.

  Since they’d returned to the House of Winter, Meg had withdrawn into herself, contemplative but peaceful. Charlotte wondered if Meg was likewise considering her mother’s words.

  A polite cough sounded at the door to the parlor.

  “I’m informed that you’ll be dining at the house this evening,” Thompson told them. “Dinner will be served in an hour.”

  Charlotte sighed. “I suppose that means I should dress for the meal.”

  “I’ll help you change.” Meg rose, and the two women retired to Charlotte’s bedroom.

  While Charlotte brushed out her long hair, Meg opened the wardrobe. “Is there a color you’d prefer for tonight?”

  “No.” Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to care what color her gown was. There were so many gowns. All exquisite, but all reminders of the fiction Charlotte lived while in the city.

  “The amethyst is quite lovely—” Meg dropped the gown she’d just pulled from the wardrobe when Jack burst through the door.

  “Charlotte, I have to speak with you.” He was gasping for breath, as if he’d sprinted all the way to her room. His coat was unbuttoned, and his shirt collar was loose at his neck.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked. “Is it Grave?”

  Jack shook his head and threw a pleading glance at Meg. Meg gave Jack a long look and then left the room without a word, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  “Jack, please tell me what’s happened.” Charlotte was so frightened she could hardly breathe.

  Closing the distance between them, Jack said, “I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I don’t know what else to do.”

  Charlotte took a step back. The wildness in his voice made her even more fearful.

  “I have to do this,” Jack told her. “Just this once before tonight. I have to know for sure.”

  “What exactly is happening tonight?” Charlotte asked, thinking of the meeting Jack had arranged. Was there a danger Ash hadn’t spoken of?

  Jack didn’t answer; there was a fever in his eyes. He grasped her upper arms and jerked her toward him. His mouth came down suddenly, hard on hers. The kiss felt desperate and verged on painful, but Charlotte’s eyes closed as the sensation took her under. She was so deep in the kiss she thought she might drown. She didn’t care, feeling only how tightly Jack gripped her skin. How much he wanted her.

  Breaking the kiss, Jack leaned his forehead against Charlotte’s. They were both breathing hard, but her thoughts were only of how much she needed Jack’s lips to be on hers again.

  “Do you love me?” Jack’s eyes were closed, and his brow furrowed as though he was in pain.

  “Wh-what?” Charlotte stammered, reeling from the question.

  “Tell me the truth, Charlotte.” Jack was looking at her now. “Do you love me?”

  Charlotte reached up to touch his face. Her pulse was drumming so loudly she barely heard herself say, “Yes.”

  That single word answered many questions that had been nipping at the edges of Charlotte’s conscience. Yes. Yes, she loved Jack. That was the only sensible explanation for why she’d been so instantly drawn to Coe. All those pent-up emotions were spilling over, muddying the waters of attraction, and confusing her. That must have been it.

  Jack bent to kiss her again. This time his mouth was gentle, seeking rather than demanding. Charlotte slipped one arm around his neck; the other she rested at his waist. Her skin heated as Jack kissed her. She opened her mouth to taste his tongue. Then his hand was in her hair, his other hand pressed between her shoulder blades, and his lips were brushing her cheek, her jawline, her neck.

  Charlotte slipped her hand beneath Jack’s coat and pulled his shirt free of his trousers. Wanting to know if his skin burned like hers, Charlotte pressed her fingers against his lower back, feeling as his muscles flexed under her touch.

  Jack’s kisses edged toward her bodice, and Charlotte gasped as sweat beaded on the back of her neck. She moved her hand beneath Jack’s shirt from his back to his stomach, her touch tracing the ridges of his abdomen. With a groan, Jack straightened and pulled Charlotte’s roaming hands away from his skin.

  “Don’t.” Charlotte’s voice was low and thick. “Don’t stop.”

  “I have to,” Jack said through gritted teeth. “I won’t dishonor you.”

  “I don’t care,” Charlotte exclaimed, though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. The fire in her blood had burned away her sense for the moment.

  Jack cupped her face in his hands. “I’ll do this the right way. Tomorrow I’ll speak with Ash. We’ll sort everything out.”

  Charlotte stared at him, numb with shock. Speak with Ash? Did Jack mean to ask for her hand? To marry her? When exactly did he expect all of this to happen?

  Not that she was altogether opposed to that idea, but it was so sudden and unexpected. The ground was solid beneath Charlotte’s feet, but the room around her seemed to be spinning.

  Placing a soft kiss on her mouth, Jack said, “I have to leave you. But you have my word, we’ll speak of this again in the morning.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  Jack kissed her again and murmured into her ear, “I didn’t know I could want anything so much as I want you, Charlotte.”

  His words made her shiver, despite the sheen of sweat that covered her skin, for she knew her feelings mirrored his in intensity. She found that awareness frightening. It was much easier to fight with Jack than to want him like this.

  When Jack left, Charlotte stripped out of her gown so her skin would cool. Clad only in her chemise, she walked unsteadily to the bed and lay down. As her shock receded, giddiness spilled through her limbs. She smiled like a fool at the ceiling. She loved Jack.

  Athene’s mercy, what will Ash say?

  Charlotte laughed aloud. She rolled over and hugged a pil
low to her chest. Her body felt supple and finer than silk.

  When someone knocked at the door, Charlotte sat up.

  “Come in!”

  Charlotte assumed that the knocker would be Meg returning, but hoped it would be Jack throwing reason to the wind and returning to seek her bed, so when Coe stepped into her room, Charlotte shrieked. She dragged the coverlet up to her neck.

  Coe quickly pivoted around, giving her his back. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. You did say to come in.”

  “I thought you were Meg!” Charlotte squirmed beneath the sheets, wrapping herself up like a mummy.

  “Are you decent now?” Coe asked.

  “Aren’t you leaving?” Charlotte replied. Why on earth would he stay when she was half dressed?

  Coe glanced over his shoulder, and seeing Charlotte wrapped in bedclothes, he relaxed.

  “I’m afraid I have an urgent matter that we must attend to.”

  “We?” Charlotte frowned at him. That was when she noticed Coe was carrying a gown. Charlotte had never seen a dress so beautiful. Its burgundy silks would have outshone the finest wines. A whisper of black lace edged the gown’s neckline and hem.

  Coe approached Charlotte and laid the gown along the foot of her bed. “My mother wore this dress at her debut. It seems appropriate that you would wear it tonight.”

  Nerves pricked at Charlotte. “But I thought the Governor’s Ball was at the end of the week?”

  “It is, but there’s been a change of plans,” Coe replied. “We decided it would be appropriate for you to make an appearance for the military ball that’s being held tonight. It, too, takes place at the Governor’s Palace, but it’s a smaller event, something of a preview for the grand gathering to follow in a few days. Since you’re being sponsored by the House of Winter, your absence might be conspicuous. I apologize for the short notice, but you’ll have to hurry. Put on the gown and meet me at the front gate as soon as you can.”

  “Are Ash and Meg joining us?” Charlotte frowned at Coe, though she reached a hand out to stroke the extraordinary fabric of the gown.

  “Servants don’t attend balls,” Coe answered. “I’ll escort you.”

  Charlotte looked at him, hesitating. “What about Jack?”