Blackbird: A Warrior of the No-When Page 4

  Although I had never dreamt it possible, my admiration for him rose to an even loftier height. “Well done, sir.”

  “You are too kind, Penny,” he returned. Then he led us over to the table. “Well, on to our work. I have already gotten started on the tuning coil, and as you see, we took delivery of the Morse device just this afternoon. I daresay that we shall make a great deal of progress tonight.”

  “And perhaps some progress on your dinner as well, Professor?” Jennie inquired as she took our cloaks from us. His meal was sitting atop another stool, and by the look of it, he had paid it scant attention.

  “Yes, yes,” he promised her. “I will feed myself in good time, dear lady. Rest assured of that.”

  This was a familiar ritual between them, and she rewarded him with a doubtful expression, but did not press the issue. She knew, without having to ask, that we would see to it that he ate. As women, we all understood that the management of men was a task best accomplished through a team effort and much patience.

  While she went upstairs to fetch our own meals, we donned working aprons and drew up stools next to his.

  “It must be wound tightly,” he explained, showing us his work, “and according to the diagram, we will need a solid band of about 12.7 centimeters for it to be effective.”

  I took it from him and attempted a few experimental windings. Satisfied with my work, he proceeded to instruct Elizabeth on her assignment, which was to help him on the construction of the Rumkorff coil.

  In short order, we were all completely immersed in our tasks, and by the time it came for us to depart and return to Elizabeth’s, our project had definitely begun to take form.

  Once back, we bid farewell to our fellow conspirators, and suddenly found ourselves with a half an hour to spare. With the house unoccupied except for the two of us, there was no question whatsoever as to how we would enjoy this gift.

  We immediately fell into one another’s arms, and the excitement of the night’s endeavors took over, banishing all reason in the name of passion. In short order, we had gone into Elizabeth’s bedroom, and I was making love to her like a starving man might devour a meal. Every bit of her body was my feast and I gorged myself, giddy with desire. Only the warning chime of the clock in the hall managed to return me to my senses, and even then, I let go of her reluctantly.

  ***

  As important as my work at Professor Merriweather’s laboratory was, life itself did not stand still, and other factors intruded upon me that I was forced to confront. One of these was my unmarried state and my father’s concern over my future.

  Ever since maturing into a woman, and with even greater vigor once my mother passed away, he had been determined to see me properly wedded to a man from a good family. It was his earnest desire that I carry on our name in the role of a wife and a mother.

  But nothing could have been more opposed to my true nature, nor more horrific. While I considered some men my friends, the very notion of lying with one in a carnal embrace, even if it were sanctified by the institution of marriage, was utterly abhorrent. I had no such desires, and the situation was further compounded by the fact that my father had set his sights on Mr. Edward Simpson Darrington.

  To be sure, Edward was a fine example of his sex; strong, handsome and the scion of a wealthy and respected family, and with good prospects in business. For these reasons, he was the object of many a woman’s desire, and I should have felt honored that his family thought us to be such a good match. In fact, doubly so, for I considered Edward to be a great friend as well. He had been my boon companion since our childhood together, and the years had only deepened our bond.

  But alas, none of this could contend with my true self, nor overcome it in any way. And so I had been made thoroughly miserable by the entire situation. Finally, and after much consideration, I decided to take decisive action once and for all.

  My moment came when Edward and I were meeting at his family’s estate, in the garden. As always, and as befitted my station and our circumstances, a chaperone accompanied us. In this case, she was a trusted servant from Edward’s household, and while she made certain to attend to her duties with due diligence, she also took care to afford us some measure of privacy by remaining far enough away to be out of earshot.

  Undoubtedly, the poor woman thought that we would engage in the sort of conversation that lovers usually have with one another, overflowing with endearments and promises. Little did she know what I actually intended.

  “Edward,” I began, taking his hand in mine and steeling myself for what I was about to say. “In our long association, I have come to consider you to be a very dear friend, and I must make a confession.”

  His expression, which had been carefree only a moment earlier, suddenly became quite sober. “What is it, Penny? You know that you can tell me anything.”

  “Edward,” I said, hating myself for the sudden reluctance that arose within me, “I cannot marry you.” You see, I truly didn’t wish to hurt him, but this thing had to be cut off before its roots could run any deeper.

  “Is it someone else?” he asked. “Is there another man in your life?”

  “No,” I replied. “There is no other man in my life.” This at least was the absolute truth.

  I pressed onwards. “It is simply that I have no desire for the institution of marriage.”

  “But marriage is a joyful thing,” Edward insisted. “Look at the love that your own father and mother shared. They were happily married for years before she passed away.”

  “Edward, it is not a matter of simple happiness,” I said, biting my lip. “Please do not mistake me, for I value your company, and I love you dearly, but not in--that way.”

  His brows furrowed. “Then it must be another man.”

  I shook my head. “No, there are no other men in my life. I have never been attracted to any man.”

  As he pondered this, I wondered at just how frank I would have to be, and whether I dared. I found myself praying that he would simply assume that I was frigid, and being a gentleman, leave it at that. Sadly, he did not.

  “Does anything attract you, my dearest?” he asked. “Has anyone ever aroused passion in your heart?”

  Elizabeth’s image came into my mind, and I blushed, and in so doing, betrayed myself. “Yes,” I answered in the tiniest of voices. That was as far as I intended to travel towards the truth, but something made me add, “Simply not a man.”

  Edwards’ eyes widened as he finally grasped my meaning, and for an instant, a thrill of fear coursed through me.

  What had I just done? I asked myself. My character could be destroyed by such a confession! People would talk. I was a fool. Why hadn’t I just lied and invented another man to throw him off the trail?

  But one look at his face answered that question; I simply could not prevaricate with him. If nothing else, he was a good and decent friend and deserved better.

  Then, suddenly, Edward did something that I had never anticipated. He laughed. He laughed, and he threw his arms around me in joy.

  “Why, that explains everything!” he declared. “Now I see, and I thank you for this revelation! You have just made me the happiest man alive! Oh, this is so wonderful!”

  At that instant, I became absolutely certain that my confession had simply driven the poor fellow insane. What he said next banished any such considerations from my mind and completely surprised me.

  “Penny,” he said. “I fully understand. You see, I must make a confession of my own.” Then his voice lowered. “Just as you are not attracted to men, I have never been moved to feel passion for any woman. Don’t you see? We are perfect for one another!”

  My jaw dropped as I realized what he was telling me. “You--you--you’re a Nancy Boy?”

  “Yes my darling, and I always have been,” he laughed. “Although I vastly prefer to call myself a sodomite--and a damned good one at that. Oh, you can’t know the pressure that I’ve been under, worrying over this union. Charles will la
ugh when he hears of this!”

  “Charles?” I stammered. “Charles Woodsworth!?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

  “The same,” he returned.

  “But he’s so--virile,” I managed to say. It was truly incredible. Never, in all the hours I had spent wrestling with my problem had I envisioned such an outcome.

  Edward grinned conspiratorially. “Most of the ‘virile’ ones are, Penny my dear. And I think that from now on, you and I will be even greater friends than ever. You, I, Charles--and whoever it is that you consider your special someone. Thank you for such a wonderful gift!”

  I blushed again, and my head spun as the implications sunk in. “But our families? What shall we tell them?”

  “Well, I see two courses of action,” he answered. “One, we make a full confession of our sins to everyone, and take it on the chin. Or two, we keep up appearances and do as we like, with who we like. Personally, I prefer the latter.”

  I was dumbfounded. “But that would be lying!”

  “Yes,” he replied. “It would be--but a very sweet and very convenient lie. Dash it all, Penny. I say send honor to the gallows, and spare no expense on the rope. This will make everyone quite happy, and give us both the fresh air that we so desperately need! It would be a marriage--but one of real convenience. Given our tendencies, I can think of nothing happier.”

  I had never considered Edward to be such a scoundrel, but I had to admit that his suggestion possessed great merit. I had worried about what my father would say when I announced that the engagement was off. If I followed Edward’s advice, that disappointment would never occur. And I would be free.

  “Very well then, Edward Simpson Darrington,” I said. “I accept. Or should I say, I do?”

  “Say that to your beloved,” he replied. “She is far more worthy of it than I, I am certain. My best wishes to the bride, by the way, and many happy returns.”

  “Best wishes to the groom,” I returned with a smile that was the equal of his own.

  “I’ll pass that on when I see him,” Edward promised. “Believe me.”

  I did. We made our announcement to our respective families the very next day. And the joy that they displayed more than made up for any guilt I felt. They were happy, and we were happy. That I told myself, was what counted, and sometimes, only lies can be the agents of joy.

  In celebration of the news, Father decided to host a dinner in our honor. It was a small affair, with only himself, Edward and I and of course, our respective companions, Elizabeth and Charles.

  The meal itself was spectacular; our cook had outdone herself. As we took our places at table, one of the servants poured wine, and then my father stood, and raised his glass.

  “A toast,” he said. “To two special occasions on the same night! To the Commonwealth on the anniversary of spanning this great continent from coast to coast! Long live Queen Mary of Scotland and the English Empire!”

  “Here, here!” we replied, taking polite sips in honor of our Sovereign Queen and our great nation.

  “And the second; to Edward and Penelope! The bride and groom to be!”

  Again, we joined him, but I had to consciously stifle a giggle when I caught the mischievous gleam in Edward’s eye. For their parts, Charles and Elizabeth seemed no less amused.

  Father turned to address them. “Charles and Elizabeth, now that your friends are marrying, perhaps it is time for you to consider the happy institution of matrimony yourselves. Think of it. We could have a double wedding!”

  I know that I didn’t intend it and neither did my friends, but as one, we all burst out into laughter at the absolute absurdity of this suggestion. For his part, Father looked confused by our outburst for an instant, and then joined in, albeit uncertainly. He wasn’t aware of what had sparked such mirth, but he played the good sport and went along. Even so, his expression was confused and speculative.

  Edward deftly redirected his attention however, by proposing another toast in honor of Northwesten-Cascadia and then quickly turned the conversation to Father’s favorite topic; the Russians to our north and the Tzar’s ambitions towards our lands.

  In short order, my father was going on, as he always did, about their damnable imperialism, and his absolute certainty that the Masters would never allow them to succeed in annexing even one inch of our nation’s land. And I for one, was eternally grateful to my friend for saving the evening as ably as he had.

  The following morning, a messenger arrived at our home. He bore a card addressed from Professor Merriweather, and it asked that I visit him at his home on a matter of some importance. Because it would be several days before we were scheduled to return to the laboratory, I was quite puzzled, and a trifle alarmed. The Professor was an orderly man, and not given to sudden changes, unless something untoward had occurred.

  Concerned, I asked the courier if he knew what this was about, and the man claimed ignorance, which only heightened my sense of alarm. I thanked him, quickly dressed myself, and had our driver take me to Elizabeth’s home, for I knew that she would want to accompany me.

  It turned out that she had received a similar message and had been on her way to pick me up. Our carriages actually met midway and were it not for the potential gravity of the situation, we both would have had a good laugh at this. But as it was, I sent my driver back to the house and hastily boarded Elizabeth’s coach.

  When we arrived at the Professor’s home, we were greeted by his maidservant, Molly, and got the first inkling of what was afoot.

  “Lawd above! I’m so glad ter see you, Ms. Penelope, Ms. Elizabeth,” she said. “The Professor 'ad a terrible acciden' an' we 'ad ter call da Doctor. Oh 'e’s well enuff now, but 'e wan'ed ter see yew just da same. Okay?

  “An accident?” I asked.

  “It were a fall, mum,” she replied. “The doctor came round an' an' allk care ov 'im, but 'e won’t be up on 'is feet fer a while. The whole 'ousehold 'as been in quite a tizzy because ov it. I’ll take yew ter 'im. He’s in da study.”

  With that, she showed us into the room. My hand flew to my mouth as I took in the sight of his crutches and the enormous cast on his foot.

  “Oh ladies,” the Professor said regretfully, “I feel like such a foolish old man. I knew to stay off the ladder, but I was too impatient to get at that book, and too proud to call my housekeeper for assistance. Now look at me.”

  I knelt down at his side. “It is a mistake that anyone could have made,” I told him softly. “A mere accident, and neither the product of pride nor foolishness. But now that you are in this state, how are we to proceed? However will we get our coherers?”

  “I am afraid that I must prevail on you,“ he answered, “I have no one else I can trust with such a mission. Jennie, for all of her loyalty, does not have the constitution suited to such a task.”

  “We will do it,” I promised.

  Elizabeth nodded, and added, “Tell us the time and place and we will fetch them straightaway.”

  He gave us the address, and the name of the man that we were to meet, but added a caution. “Be careful with these people. They are not Free Radicals, but men of avarice who would sell anything for a price. Be vigilant.”

  Sobered by this admonition, we promised to follow his advice, and hurried to our respective homes to prepare ourselves.

  Thankfully, Father had gone directly from his offices to attend his weekly game of whist, and I was able to depart without his ever becoming aware of it. To stave off any potential inquiries, I also made certain to inform my housekeeper about the Professor’s condition, and wove it in with the lie that I would be returning to his residence to help him convalesce.

  I hated having to deceive her, and by extension, my father, but I quickly forgave myself. I had already lied many times in the name of my cause, and regarded this as simply another burden that I would have to bear.

  I also took another precaution as well. Bearing the Professor’s warning in mind, I secreted a derringer that my mother had once own
ed in my hand bag. Having had some practice with Flobert guns in the small shooting gallery that my father had installed in our home, I knew myself to be a good shot, but I dreaded the possibility that the weapon might actually be required for self-defense. However, like the lie that I had uttered, it was a necessary evil.

  I also took care regarding my means of conveyance. Rather than utilize the services of our coachman, and take the risk of him making any mention of my adventure to my father, I walked several blocks from our home and hailed a hackney instead. I had the driver take me to Elizabeth’s, and then we began our journey.

  She too had armed herself with a small revolver that she kept for self-protection, and was no less nervous than I. Even so, we lent one another no small measure of reassurance, and I do not know if I could have undertaken the errand without her there to lend me the courage.

  Although the ride itself was a short one, our uneasiness, and the neighborhood that we were being taken to, conspired to make it seem far longer, for it was downtown and in a part of the city not suited to young women of our stations. Our mission was too important to let this dissuade us though, and when the cab arrived at our address, I assured the driver that we would be safe, and refused his offer to accompany us. This was a task that we had to perform alone and we could not have any witnesses, however well-intentioned.

  The building that Professor Merriweather had dispatched us to was a rather run down affair, with closed shops on its ground floor, and offices above, and our destination was one of these very shops. A key had been left for us there, hidden along the top of the door frame, and after a few moments of searching, I found it and admitted us inside. It turned out to be a milliner’s shop, with a narrow space for the public, and an even more diminutive stock-room. At the very rear of this, we encountered another door, and beyond it, a stair leading down into a basement.

  Here, we did not hesitate to produce the other items that we had brought with us. These were a pair of battery-powered flashlights that had been provided to us by the Professor himself. We switched them on, and carefully made our descent.