Boston Metaphysical Society Page 10

  He heard the underbutlers tromping up the stairs ahead of him. “Sampson!” he cried. Jonathan took the stairs two at a time as he bolted up to see Sampson turning the doorknob and walking into the room. “Wait!”

  Breathless, Jonathan rushed past him to block his way. “Wait. Please.”

  “Of course, sir. But not to be impertinent, we have other tasks to attend to… so if we could proceed?” Sampson smiled.

  “Stay right there. It won’t take but a minute.” Jonathan, still gasping for air looked around the room for any sign of Tinker. His eyes fell on a metal claw sticking out of her drawer. He sighed and relaxed, knowing she was tucked in her bed.

  “Sampson! Come on in. If you could each take a corner of this—” Jonathan pointed to the covered ship prototype—, “and carry it downstairs to the ballroom.”

  Sampson blinked a few times. “May I suggest the parlor, sir?

  “No, no. It needs to go in the ballroom, where everyone can see it,” Jonathan insisted.

  Sampson leaned in and lowered his voice. “I believe Mrs. Weldsmore has specific plans for the ballroom. And I’m sure you would not want to interfere with those. Isn’t that correct, sir?”

  Jonathan sagged in disappointment. “You’re right. The parlor it is.”

  “Very good, sir.” Sampson turned and organized the three other men. Each took a corner of the prototype, picked it up, and headed out the door treating it as if it were the crown jewels of Britannia. It took them a while, but they maneuvered the model down the stairs, through the servants’ quarters and several hallways until they reached the parlor.

  The house maids and kitchen staff were still setting up chairs and a buffet when Jonathan and his father’s birthday present arrived. The underbutlers placed it on a table as per Sampson’s instructions. Sampson gave Jonathan a once-over then insisted he have the valet “tidy him up” before the guests arrived. Jonathan glanced in a mirror and agreed. He hurried off to find the valet while Sampson gave the cover of the ship prototype a light dusting then returned to his duties.

  And there it sat. Waiting.

  TINKER WOKE UP TO THE sound of Jonathan’s voice in a panic. She was just about to come out of her hiding place to see what was wrong when she heard other men’s voices. The rat burrowed deeper into her cubby and made herself as small as possible.

  After a few moments, her new-found hiding place rocked back and forth and the noise of people grew louder. Terrified, she clawed her way deeper into the bowels of the thing Jonathan called a prototype and hung on for dear life.

  The ride became more treacherous as the ship angled downward, and Tinker slid out of her cubby hole. Using her metal claw she dug into the wood. It seemed like an eternity before the entire contraption came to an abrupt, thudding halt. Not taking any chances, Tinker burrowed her way even deeper than before and hid among the wires and gears she had helped Jonathan connect throughout the ship.

  Tinker recognized Jonathan’s voice but was too afraid to move due to the other unfamiliar noises and smells. One odor was particularly inviting, but her fear overrode her hunger—for the moment. So she hunkered down and decided to wait until the humans were gone then she would sneak out and see where that delicious smell came from.

  JONATHAN STOOD BY THE FRONT entrance to the ballroom, greeting the guests as they arrived for his father’s birthday celebration. The mayor, his wife, several senators and their wives along with a trickle of European aristocracy gave the party the political weight his grandmother required for any occasion. But the true people with power who were attending were the heads of the great Houses of Boston and New York. All major business in the Great States of America was conducted through them.

  His grandmother had ordered the hallway to be decorated with vibrant and exotic flowers from South America grown in a hot house outside the city. They fascinated Jonathan. He always had an incredible urge to take them apart to see how they were constructed, but his grandmother forbade it. She said some things are better left a mystery.

  As the elite of Boston and New York entered, they greeted Hal with great deference as befitted the future head of one of the most powerful families in Boston. They acknowledged Jonathan just enough not to be rude, with the exception of Adaline Monplasir.

  At eighteen, she was a few years older than Jonathan but was decades ahead of him socially. Petite, but with a strong mind and even stronger intellect, she always treated Jonathan with kindness and compassion. Dressed in a midnight blue silk dress with small bird feathers and bronze wire woven into her corset, she wore her auburn hair about her shoulders without adornment. In some circles that would be considered a fashion faux pas. However, young women like Adaline set the fashion; they were not governed by it.

  Jonathan tried not to stare as she entered, but Adaline caught his glance then returned the stare. It made Jonathan squirm whenever she looked at him as she moved through reception line until she finally got to him. He swore her eyes saw things he himself was unwilling to see. Like the fact he was in love with her.

  “Jonathan. You’ve finally grown taller than I,” Adaline grinned. “I must say you might even be handsome in five years.” She gave him a wink.

  Jonathan gawked for a moment, then recovered. “Miss Monplasir, welcome to our house. On behalf of my father, I greet you,” he announced, imitating their butler.

  She waved her hand dismissing what he said. “Oh, stop. Your grandmother makes you say the old words, doesn’t she?”

  “She says it’s necessary to preserve the peace between the Houses,” Jonathan replied.

  “What preserves the peace is marriage, money, and babies,” Adaline retorted.

  Jonathan blushed at the comment. “Then it’s set… the marriage I mean?”

  “Of course. It makes perfect business sense. The act of uniting our two Houses will bring an unprecedented amount of power and wealth to our families. We own the farmland west of the Louisiana-Alsatian province and you ship what we grow. The math is simple.”

  Jonathan lowered his voice. “Yes, it’s just… you don’t love him, do you?”

  Adaline laughed, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “I may be married to Hal, but at least I’ll have you to talk to.”

  Jonathan hoped to respond with something witty, but was relieved when Hal swooped in and held out his arm to her. “Dearest, come. Grandmother wishes to speak to you.”

  She gave Jonathan a curtsy then took Hal’s arm. “It was a pleasure having this small discourse, Jonathan. I hope to continue it another time.”

  “Ha! Discourse. What tedious subject was he lecturing on this time?” Hal asked as he whisked her away.

  Adaline turned her head and gave Jonathan a small smile as she replied, “Math.”

  Hal laughed as they walked away, but Adaline paused and turned back to Jonathan. “You will save me a dance, won’t you?” she asked. Hal ushered Adaline away before Jonathan could answer.

  Overwhelmed, Jonathan tried not to stare at her retreating figure. Only when he heard someone’s throat clearing did he realized Sampson was standing next to him.

  “Sir, dinner is served,” Sampson announced.

  “Coming,” Jonathan sulked. Hunched over and feeling sorry for himself, he followed the herd of people heading for the dining room until Sampson touched his shoulder. Jonathan looked up to see the young underbutler gesturing for him to stand up straight and adjust his clothes. With a sigh, Jonathan did just that.

  With head held high, Jonathan prepared to enter the fray. “Sampson, when I’m old enough, please remind me to give you a raise.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  JONATHAN COULD NOT EAT A bite at dinner, he was so nervous about presenting the ship. He just wanted it over and done with. It didn’t help that he was a mere two seats away from Adaline. Listening to her crisp laughter at Hal’s bad jokes made him want to crawl under the table. Or better yet, hide in the drawer with Tinker. After what seemed like forever, his grandmother stood up, indicating th
e dinner was over.

  Music wafted in from the ballroom as the guests paired off and exited the expansive dining room. Jonathan was one of the last to exit, hoping to bolt to the parlor and avoid the ballroom, but those hopes were dashed in an instant.

  “Little brother,” Hal yelled at him. “For some unknown reason my bride-to-be insists on dancing the first dance of the evening with you.” He gave Jonathan a conspiratorial smile.

  Adaline slid out from behind Hal and glided over to Jonathan. She took his arm and smiled. “Shall we?”

  Jonathan’s legs almost gave way. He needed every bit of his self-control to move one foot in front of the other as Adaline led him into the ballroom. There were a flurry of whispers and shocked looks from many of the guests. When Beatrice saw him, her countenance changed from poised and authoritative to outright hostility. A slight gesture of her head told Jonathan she wanted him off the ballroom floor immediately. He tried to comply, but Adaline kept a firm grip on him and swung around to face Beatrice. She smiled sweetly at the older woman then, curtsied. The sign of respect could not be ignored, nor could Adaline’s determination.

  Clearly, not wanting to upset her future granddaughter-in-law, Beatrice nodded her consent.

  Adaline placed her left hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and took his left hand in her right. She motioned for him to put his right hand around her waist. Her nearness so flustered him, Jonathan just stared at her.

  “You will need to use your right hand to help lead me,” Adaline teased him.

  Jonathan snapped out of his daze. “Of course.” He placed his right hand on her waist and began to count under his breath.

  “Jonathan, what are you doing?”

  “Counting. I just learned how to dance, and I can’t do it without counting,” he whispered.

  Adaline glanced around the room at the guests, most of whom trying not to stare. As if knowing they couldn’t just stand there, she seemed to come to a decision. “Then I will count with you. Ready? One two three, one two three…” She gave him a slight shove and off they went.

  After some initial hesitation and stiffness, Jonathan counted with her, and together they moved around the floor. It was stiff and not pleasant to watch, but Jonathan managed not to collide with the other couples. People watched for a few moments waiting to see if disaster would strike, but when it became apparent Jonathan was going to stay on his feet, they grew bored and went back to their conversations.

  Absorbed in counting, Jonathan didn’t notice how Adaline regarded him. When he stared at his feet, she would tell him to stop and keep his head up. He obeyed, but kept counting.

  When the dance ended, Jonathan sighed in relief.

  “Was it that bad to dance with me?” she asked.

  Jonathan was mortified. “No, no. You were wonderful. In fact, you saved my life. If you hadn’t helped me count, I might have… then grandmother would have… then the whole evening would have been a nightmare.”

  Adaline laughed. “What nonsense. But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  Hal walked up behind her. “Well done, though a little awkward, little brother. Now you understand the advantages of dancing with the fairer sex.”

  “Yes, brother. I do.” Jonathan held on to Adaline’s hand a little longer than was necessary. “Thank you, Miss Monplasir.”

  “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your big presentation to Father?” Hal asked, clearly annoyed at the attention Adaline was giving his brother.

  “Yes, of course. Thank you, Hal.” Jonathan bobbed his head in a quick bow then scurried away.

  TINKER WOKE UP TO THE sound of people gathering around her hiding spot. She was angry at herself for missing the opportunity while it was quiet to go and find that fabulous smell, but it was too late. The wondrous odor of food from before was overrun by floral perfume and cologne. Tinker sneezed.

  As the crowd grew larger, she became more anxious. Tinker had burrowed herself as far as she could within the ship. She could only hope that Jonathan would find her or the people would go away.

  Tinker recognized Jonathan’s voice and chittered at him, but the noise was getting too loud and she realized he could not hear her. Not wanting to be stuck in the wires, Tinker eased herself out of her hiding place and began the journey through the maze of tunnels and tubes to be ready for Jonathan when he found her.

  AS PARTIES WENT, JONATHAN THOUGHT this was one of the better ones after his dance with Adaline. For a short time, the powers-that-be treated his father with respect and a modicum of deference. Everyone knew Grandmother controlled the company but out of polite decorum they pretended Charles did. It wouldn’t do to embarrass someone as powerful as Beatrice Weldsmore.

  When the time came for him to present his surprise to his father, Jonathan insisted that the heads of the families and the politicians attend. Most thought it was a nice gesture of filial devotion, others humored Jonathan, assuming the presentation would not cut into their gambling time in the side rooms.

  Jonathan stood next to the covered ship prototype as people trickled in. Chairs were assembled in front of him and were soon filled, leaving many guests standing off to the sides. Most were there to be seen by Beatrice Weldsmore and considered watching Jonathan the equivalent of watching a pet doing a trick. As a second son and devoid of the necessary character required to run a company, he was to be treated with kindness but otherwise ignored.

  Grandmother entered on Charles’s arm and sat on the chair reserved for her in the front of the room. After she had situated her skirt properly, Charles leaned on his cane in order to ease himself into the chair next to her. She frowned at his clumsiness but apparently decided to ignore it. She waved a hand at Jonathan indicating he should start.

  Jonathan cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” His voice could not be heard above the din of party noise.

  The crowd ignored him and continued chatting.

  “Excuse me,” he said a little louder.

  No change.

  “Attention, everyone. My little brother has some sort of engineering feat that he wishes to share with the world,” Hal shouted from the side of the room.

  The guests chuckled then quieted down. Hal gave Jonathan a nod, but his grandmother only had eyes for Hal and mouthed the words thank you at him. By the time her gaze returned to Jonathan, the softness around her eyes had hardened again.

  “Thank you for coming. For my father’s birthday, I constructed something that means a lot to my family. May I present a model of the prototype of the GS Hypatia.” Jonathan reached over and yanked the canvas off of the ship.

  As the cover fell away, his audience gasped at the gleaming structure. The detail, though reduced in size, was perfect. From the bridge to the engine room and every bulkhead in between, every wire, every system was in place. Clapping erupted throughout the room.

  Beatrice nodded her approval then moved to stand up. “Lovely dear, if that’s all… ”

  “Oh no, Grandmother. There’s more.”

  Annoyed, she sat back down. Charles smiled and motioned for Jonathan to continue.

  “My grandfather was a genius. After he designed this ship, he dreamed of the day he could watch it being constructed and take its first maiden voyage. But alas, he will not be with us tomorrow when we sail the Hypatia around Boston Harbor for the sea trial. And I know his presence will be missed.” Jonathan beamed at his father and grandmother.

  Beatrice, clearly moved by the praise of her husband, deigned to give Jonathan a hint of a smile.

  “In tribute to my father and my grandfather, I thought what better way to honor them than to make improvements on the Hypatia’s design.” As Jonathan gestured to the interior of the ship he noticed the room had gone silent and his grandmother glowered, but his excitement drove him forward.

  “As I examined the ship’s steering system, I noticed that though my grandfather’s design was innovative, it was also flawed. He had the right idea, but the execution might lead to engine failure or worse, the sh
ip’s speed and steering might veer out of control.” Jonathan had leaned over to point out some of the attributes when he saw two beady eyes blink back at him. It was Tinker.

  Stunned, he tried not to react to the rat and continue on with his speech. But when he stood back up, he came face-to-face with his grandmother. She was livid.

  “How dare you?” she hissed. “How dare you imply that you are smarter than your grandfather?”

  “I… I… I… only meant to fix a minor design flaw. It’s a tribute to him,” Jonathan replied, caught off guard. He looked over to Charles for help, but his father had his head in his hands, and Hal had disappeared from the room along with most of the guests.

  “You have embarrassed me and your entire family by this demonstration of ignorance.” Beatrice shook with anger.

  “It’s not ignorance, Grandmother. It’s math and engineering. I only wanted to show you that I could help the company. I could be an asset.”

  “Never!” Beatrice yelled as she picked up a large serving utensil from the buffet and began beating the model. “I will not have this monstrosity desecrate his memory.” Wood and metal parts flew off as the ship splintered.

  After her fifth or sixth blow, a loud squeal pierced the air. “What is that noise?” Beatrice demanded.

  Jonathan looked on in horror as Tinker leapt out of the model and on to his grandmother’s dress.

  It was the scream heard around the world.

  Tinker clung on to Beatrice’s dress for dear life, but her metal claws impaled the fine silk. She slid down the length of the skirt, ripping the material from the waist to feet. When she hit the floor, Tinker scurried around, then found temporary shelter underneath Beatrice’s skirts. The older woman stomped and yelled as Jonathan crawled on his hands and knees to try to rescue Tinker.

  The astounded servants were paralyzed. It was all Charles could do to keep himself from laughing, and the remaining guests seemed to take guilty pleasure in watching Beatrice being humiliated by her own grandson.