Clockwork Blue (3 page)

Reluctantly
Malcolm
laid the fabric on his desk and studied the invitation
for Miss Nicola
Moore
'
s
coming-out ball
.
"
I
'
m in trade, a
faux
pas
in itself, so w
hat does it matter if I attend?
"

"
You don
'
t need the
dye
. You can make a foothold in the British textile market with your silken threads from India alone. The
haute ton
is—
"

"
Where is this
sudden
reluctance coming from
?
You never balked during our private war with the corsairs,
or
the financial and politica
l ruining of Sheik Abhidhar. Are you
having se
cond thoughts about serving me?
"

"
No, sir. You know
you can
'
t rid yourself of me
.
God
proclaimed you save me from the fires in Diu, and now
His orders are to
stay with you.
"

The number of times
Malcolm
had heard this
statement roughly equal
ed
the pounds of cloth stored on Surrey Do
cks.
"
An act of kindness I
'
ll regret
for the rest
of my days.
"

Sounds of the alterca
tion outside grew more heated
as the shouting elevated a notch
.
"
Never fear, my l
ord,
I will never leave you. F
or I
will
serve you for life.
"
Gaspar bowed so low
Malcolm
fe
ared the huge man would topple
over.
"
I only war
n you to take care you don
'
t use
harsh
methods in obtaini
ng the
dye
—methods
you
will later regret. Y
ou a
re known for your ruthlessness.
"

Stillness
rose up from his dark side.
"
And am I known for remorse?
"

"
No,
"
Gaspar replied as he folded his hands beneath his robes.
"
But I know, too, you
'
ve never pursued a morally abiding
young lady
of this sort. You cannot use your normal methods of blackmail and duplicity to fo
rce such a maiden to your will.
"

Horses whinnied and carriage wheels
squeaked in the street below. Curious,
Malcolm
set
aside the invitation along with the square of cotton weave an
d ventured to the window
.
A
chaotic tangle
of town carriages
and motorcars
had
sta
lled in the street. Drivers beat
their fists in the air,
crying out retorts to each other. L
adies
peeped out of
cab
windows
,
some with
a monocle
,
their feathered, gaudy hats bobbing as they looked toward the commotion. Malcolm followed their gazes. A
stocky merchant and a young dandy
stood
toe-to-toe
yelling
at each other i
n the middle of the street. The merchant waved
a scrap of foolscap in
the dandy
'
s face. A
girl
scrambled out of a carriage. She wore
a shiny gold ball gown adorned with
forest-green lace. The
skirts
landed
several inches
above
her ankles to expose
deep-purple
bloomers
.
The steam mo
bile caught his attention. A rusted engine—inside a wheel barrel—
puffe
d
between two shafts where horses normally were
.
T
he occupant
'
s
hair
seemed to be
coiffed,
but
several straight locks refused to be tamed.
A hat with a conglomeration of
blue
feathers, netting and … starfish? … cocked to one side
of her head
.
It was then that he
recognized the particular shade
.

I
t
was the
Clockwork
Blue
.

She rounded the cab just as the merchant hauled back a fist to hit the young dandy. Before the merchant could swing,
Starfish G
irl
jumped on
the merchant
'
s
back and grabbed the brim of his hat, pulling the headgear down over his
eyes
. The foolscap fluttered to the ground. The fact that a good portion of her
bloomers
were
fully exposed seemed t
o not to attract undue attention.

Except
for
Malcolm
'
s.
Unlike that cork-brained merchant, he knew exactly
what he would do—and it wouldn
'
t be to stagger blindly
down the street with his cap crammed over his
eyes
.

Starfish G
irl
jumped down, causing the beleaguered merchant to fall to his knees. Then she ran, grabbing the young dandy by the arm to make him flee, too. The pair
vaulted into the carriage. The
homemade, steam-powered carriage
bolted
down the road, leaving spectators leaning
out of their carriages
.

"
W
ho was
the
hoyde
n with the manners of a
bohemian
?
"
Malcolm
asked
, although he was certain he knew
.

"
That,
mi
lord,
"
said Gaspar, who was looking over
Malcolm's
shoulder and out the window,
"
is the h
eiress to the
Clockwork
Blue
.
"

A charge of electrons raced down his spine as
Malcolm
wondered what adventures lie ahead
.
"
T
he young rake must be her cousin, Ramsey Diderot.
"

"
Yes
, milord.
"

Rumor proved correct—the cousin proved to be a
hothead. T
he young rascal
was up to his hairline in the stockinger-hosier dispute.
S
atisfaction spread through him.
"
Gaspar, h
ave the carriage pulled around.
"

"
But you won
'
t be fashionably late, sir.
"

"
Never mind
. She might leave again on a wild adventure or get herself thrown out of the ball because of her uninhibited na
ture. One way or another,
if I don
'
t hurr
y I
'
ll miss her, and all this planning will be for naught.
"

"
I will attend this commoners
'
ball with you, sir
, for I have a feeling you
'
ll need help. I
'
ll
aid
the servants in the dining and card room
s
.
"

"
Whatever makes you happy,
"
Malcolm
said to Gaspar
'
s retreating back. Briefly, he wondered how anyone consider
ed
Gaspar a mere servant. The large man moved with a sense of power
carefully contained
and
exuded a rare inner peace
. Curi
osity tinged with admiration. In contrast,
Malcolm
realized his
soul was too corrupt to understand
the deep serenity Gaspar
exuded.