The Marriage Machine Read online

  Chapter Eight

  The moment Elspeth caught sight of the townhouse by the greenbelt, her spirits plummeted. It was plain to see she would not have a private audience with Mark. The entire Ramsay family was leaving. Three small steam cars chugged at the side of the road as the family loaded their bags in the back. Alexander sat in his wheelchair at the end of the walkway of the house, waving his cane and obviously fully recovered from his lapse at Boswellian Bower. Mark’s mother was opening the door of the car in front, ready for Alexander to be loaded into it. Someone else, probably Thomas, worked at the third vehicle, loading bags and equipment. Mark guided Madame Lipstick toward the second vehicle, holding her on his arm and taking great care that she didn’t slip on the icy walk.

  Steam puffed into the chilly air, obliterating their faces. Elspeth was glad. She didn’t want to discover the truth, that Mark was now happily married and off to start a new life with his pretty bride.

  She shouldered her backpack and walked forward. No time like the present to barge in on their postcard-perfect tableau.

  “Excuse me,” Elspeth called. “Mark?”

  The new bride turned to look over her shoulder. “Oh, it’s you,” she drawled, staring down her nose at Elspeth. She was dressed in a long wool coat and carried a fur muff, and already sported the aristocratic sneer she had assumed the Ramsays would have possessed but hadn’t after all.

  Mark paused and stared down at Elspeth. His eyes were cold, bereft of friendliness. Elspeth couldn’t blame him for looking at her like that, after the trouble she had caused. Someone touched her elbow. Elspeth turned, to see the tip of Alexander’s cane, and was glad for the sudden diversion. Mark didn’t look all that interested in hearing what she had to say.

  “Mr. Ramsay,” Elspeth pivoted to survey him. “How are you doing, sir?”

  “Well enough, after all the excitement.”

  “Please accept my apologies.”

  “Hmph.” He rolled his eyes. “People need excitement every now and then. Keeps the blood high.”

  She stared at him, not sure she heard him correctly.

  “They were talking of taking you away. Execution. The fools! Someone had to do something.”

  “You faked that collapse?” she sputtered.

  “It was the only thing that came to mind. Not the most elegant idea, but effective.”

  “But I thought you were on their side.”

  “Mark did a thorough job of convincing me otherwise. Kept me up half the night talking about recent developments in the female constitution.”

  The regal woman with the raven-colored hair came up behind the old man and grasped the handles of the wheelchair.

  “Elspeth, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Eleanor.” She held out her hand.

  “Pleased to meet you.” Still trying to digest Alexander’s words, Elspeth shook the gloved hand of Ramsay’s mother and was struck by the serene strength in the woman’s face.

  “Mark is busy at the moment, but he will be with you shortly. Why don’t you wait for him in the third car?” She gestured toward the blue car in the back. “It’s terribly cold out here.”

  The regal glance swept down her uniform and across her boots, as if seeing for herself that Elspeth really did work for the power company. Elspeth made a mental note to contact her boss. He would expect her to return to work after the holidays and her honeymoon, but she had to let him know that she would never return to the SteamWizards.

  “Thank you. I will.”

  Elspeth scurried to the last car in the line, grateful to be away from staring eyes, while she struggled to compose the opening line she would use, once Mark appeared. She set her bag at her feet and closed the door, grateful even more for the warmth of the steam heater. She ran some phrases through her head. She didn’t want to demand, and yet she didn’t want to beg. She didn’t want to lay blame at his feet for what had occurred at the bower, and yet she didn’t want to take all the responsibility for it either. How would she ever come up with the right words? And what, precisely, did she want to say to the man? That she wished him well with his life? Of course she did.

  But not with that woman.

  Frustrated and disconsolate, Elspeth glared down at the floor.

  Suddenly the door opened on the opposite side of the car, startling her out of her troubled thoughts.

  “Shutterhouse?” a familiar voice called.

  She glanced up, surprised when Mark bent to get into the car. He sank down into the driver’s seat and put his hand on the gearshift. His cool unfriendliness had transformed into the charming demeanor she knew so well. Her heart did a little flip flop.

  “So, you decided to join us?” he asked.

  “You promised me safe passage.”

  “I did. But I didn’t think you would be up to things so soon.”

  “I’m up to it.”

  “Are you?” He leveled his blue eyes on her and she looked back at him. His lime-scented cologne billowed out, enveloping her in an intoxicating cloud. Her prepared speech vanished, replaced by an ache deep inside that fanned out in an unbearable wave. “What changed your mind?”

  “I never changed my mind about going to the Outer Islands.”

  “Oh, that. I see.” A shadow passed through his eyes, making Elspeth suddenly suspect that they were speaking of separate things. He slammed the door. “It’s damnable icy today. We’ll have to watch our speed.”

  “Mark, I just want to say something. I need to say something.”

  He clenched his jaw and waited, studying her face.

  “Mark,” she began and then broke off, suddenly overcome by tears. They ran down her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married?” Angry with herself for just blurting out her feelings, she brushed away the tears with the sleeve of her jacket, scratching her cheek in the process. “Why did you make me find out like that?”

  “I had no choice. At that time I didn’t know if you were going to be my bride or not.”

  “What do you mean, at that time?”

  He shook his head and turned the key to engage the motor. As the car rumbled from merely heating the air to full throttle, he paused and glanced over at her. “Shutterhouse, why didn’t you trust me? I asked you to trust me. Why couldn’t you do that one simple thing?”

  “What good would have come from trusting you?”

  “It could have made the ceremony a lot more enjoyable. I would have liked that.”

  “Oh, well.” Elspeth swallowed the hard lump that had lodged in her throat. “I’m sorry I ruined your big day.” She swallowed back a sob.

  “Both our days, Elspeth.”

  “Sorry, I guess I’m not into the marriage thing as much as you.” She clenched her teeth. “And as for that, why in the hell am I so unhappy? Wasn’t that stupid machine supposed to make me happy?”

  Mark’s hard expression softened into a smile. But his smile only made her more upset. She crossed her arms and shut her eyes, struggling to control herself and doing a poor job of it.

  “Shutterhouse, have you ever heard the expression, there are two ways to skin a cat?”

  “Yes,” she retorted, feeling cross and heartbroken at the same time. “And it sounds positively barbaric.”

  He pulled into the street, following the two cars ahead of him. Elspeth sat up straight, suddenly at attention.

  “Where are we going?” she sputtered.

  “To the Outer Islands.”

  “Your mother is driving?” Elspeth gasped. “She drives?”

  “Of course. You can learn, too. Thomas is a great teacher. He’s a lot more patient than I am.”

  Elspeth’s thoughts raced. Thomas. She’d forgotten all about him. She glanced at her left hand, and the golden band winked at her, as if mocking her. So she had married Thomas after all. That was why no one in the Ramsay clan had been all that surprised to see her.

  “But shouldn’t you be in that car?” she pointed at the brow
n vehicle ahead of them, where Madame Lipstick languished. He’d probably kept her up most of the night.

  “With Mariam?”

  “Yes.”

  Mark shrugged. “I’ll get to know Mariam soon enough. We’ve got years to get acquainted. And I wanted an extra car.” He turned the corner, heading toward the boundary of the city. “But back to what I was saying.”

  “You mean about cats?”

  “Yes. There are two ways to go about things. The hard way and the sensible way.”

  He glanced at her. She stared at the side of his handsome face, confounded at where the conversation was headed.

  “You aren’t following me.”

  “Not really.”

  “Okay, then,” he said, obviously enjoying himself. “Do you know the official components of scientific inquiry?”

  “Like hypothesis, method and results?”

  “Exactly. And part of the scientific method is using something called a control.”

  Elspeth brightened. Mark didn’t seem all that changed by the Marriage Machine, and she didn’t feel any different either. He was married to someone else, but still carrying on a lively conversation with her. Perhaps she could bear such a life. She still wanted to kiss him and to feel his arms around her, but she might be able to live without those things if she tried hard enough. And if Thomas didn’t begrudge her spending time with his brother.

  His voice, full of amusement, interrupted her thoughts. “Shutterhouse, are you listening?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “A control?”

  “A good experiment always has a trial group and a control group. But what if there can only be one group studied at a time because of equipment restrictions?”

  She shrugged, still not sure what point he was trying to make.

  They headed into a curve, and the car ahead of them fishtailed and nearly skidded off the road. Mark swore and honked. The car tooted back at them.

  Mark continued undaunted, as if the incident had never occurred. “What if the first data are gathered, then a single change is made, and the second group of data is gathered. Would it still be a valid experiment?”

  “I would assume so.”

  “Do you think a scientist could be persuaded to believe the results of such an experiment?”

  “Yes, but what are you getting at, Mark?”

  “Even the Overseers?”

  At her shocked stare, he looked over at her. “Even if it involved the Marriage Machine?”

  “The Marriage Machine?” She gaped at him. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you should have trusted me, Shutterhouse.”

  Elspeth stared at him—at his firm mouth, his sharp nose, and his lively, intelligent eyes—and suddenly the events of the past few days fell into place and all made sense.

  “You did vandalize that machine, just as I first suspected!” she gasped. “You were the one that poked the hole in the supply line.”

  “I had it done,” he replied. “So I could come in as a repairman—with no one the wiser.”

  “But I beat you to it.”

  “And stole the ruby, hoping no one would ever suspect the machine didn’t actually work—at least not in the way it was intended to.”

  Elspeth nodded.

  “Great minds think alike.” Mark shifted into a lower gear as the vehicle cleared the final milepost of the city. Elspeth would have liked to look out the window at a landscape she had never seen before, but she was too caught up in what Mark was saying to care where the car went. “That was the exact same thing I intended to do,” he added. “I had begun to suspect the very same thing you did, that the human body had at last overcome the effects of radiation. And what better way to find out than change the machine before my own wedding.”

  “My Gottfried,” Elspeth whispered.

  “And that’s where the cat skinning comes in. You can try to make your point by being a martyr and facing the wrath of the Overseers—and perhaps never change a thing. Or you can show the Overseers scientific proof that the machine is no longer needed. If the women from your group and the groups thereafter get pregnant after our holiday ceremony without the benefit of the real ruby in place, the Overseers won’t be able to deny the facts. And then we can show them the truth.”

  “The ruby we replaced wasn’t real?” she murmured.

  “It was a glass replica. So Gramps would still see a red glow.”

  “So the real ruby is where?” she asked.

  “Safe and sound in the attic of the townhouse.”

  She couldn’t find words to express how brilliant he was.

  “Oh, and by the way, Shutterhouse,” Mark reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a perfect tangerine. He held it out to her. “Happy C-day. I meant to give this to you yesterday, but things got rather out of hand.”

  “Thank you.” She gazed at him and then at the precious citrus fruit in her hand. She had nothing to give him in return, not even a lemon. And she wanted to give him so much. If he asked her, she would give him everything, no matter how forbidden.

  While Elspeth was still contemplating the future and the part Mark might play in it, she saw the brown car skid off the road and plow into a snow-covered bank. Mark motored to a stop, and they both jumped out and ran forward. The doors of the brown vehicle swung open.

  “Are you all right?” Mark called. He dashed to the passenger side of the car, most likely to see to the safety of his wife. Elspeth slipped and slid to the driver’s side, where she assumed she belonged. She wished to show a little respect for the man who had not forced her into the wedding bed.

  “Thomas?” she ventured. A booted foot popped out of the car. And then a very tall, broad-shouldered man rose from the seat and scrambled out of the vehicle. Elspeth stared, not believing her eyes. She stood in the snow, the wind blowing her leather jacket around her knees as she glanced from one brother to the other.

  Mark and Thomas were identical twins.

  “Are you okay?” she stuttered.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” He shot a cool smile at her and then glanced over the top of the car. “Darling, are you all right? I should have been more careful.”

  Madame Lipstick waved and patted Mark on his shoulder. “Just shaken up a little, dear,” she called back.

  Darling? Dear? Thomas was married to Madame Lipstick?

  What did it mean? It couldn’t mean…did that mean that she—Elspeth Shutterhouse—was the wife of Thomas’ younger but startlingly similar brother?

  Elspeth was more than shaken. She was stunned. She could feel the color draining from her face and her knees giving way in utter shock.

  “Ace mechanic going down!” Mark exclaimed, laughing, as he dashed toward her.

  When Elspeth came to, she found she had collapsed in a snow bank and that Mark was kneeling at her side and in the process of picking her up.

  “Do you have a habit of this?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Fainting.”

  “I’ve never fainted in my life until I met you.” She struggled to get up on her own, but he pulled her securely into his arms. He looked down at her, his eyes serious.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Shutterhouse?”

  “I’m fine!” she shot back. Then she realized she would never be right, and she would never stop fainting and worrying until she knew the truth. She pushed against his chest. “Just tell me one thing, Ramsay. Are we married? I mean, to each other?”

  “Technically.”

  “But you don’t want to be?” Her fingers retracted into curls as her heart flopped in her chest.

  “I never said that.”

  “What did you say?”

  He rose to his feet and set hers upon the ground, but still held her close. “I said I do.”

  “And what did I say?” she asked, not remembering a single moment of the ceremony.

  “Technically nothing. That’s when you fainted.” He began to dust off the sno
w from the back of her coat.

  She loved the way he looked after her—had always looked after her, come to think of it.

  “So we never made it official?” she asked, her heart racing.

  He straightened and cocked a brow. “In what way?”

  “With a kiss.”

  “I intended to wait for that, until you were fully conscious. And maybe even willing in the bargain.”

  “I’m more than willing, Mark.” She placed her hands on the sides of his warm face and drew him down. She had waited for what seemed like forever to feel his firm mouth close upon hers. He kissed her as tenderly and then more fully than she ever dreamed a kiss could be, gathering her up in his arms and pressing her into the fire of his chest. His kiss spoke of love and appreciation, but she had to know for certain how he felt. She needed to hear him say it.

  “So you do want to be married to me?” she murmured against his mouth.

  “From the moment I met you.”

  “Really?”

  “You were unlike any woman I had ever met. Plus, I’d never seen a woman in a uniform before.” He winked at her.

  She pulled back and stared at him.

  “You are awfully sexy in that mechanic outfit, Shutterhouse.” He kissed her again and looked down at her. His expression grew serious. “But I have to know. Did you want to marry me? All I’ve heard from you is that marriage is the end of the world.”

  “I could be persuaded to alter that opinion.”

  “Could you, now?” He grinned, no longer taking pains to conceal his joy.

  “Yes.” She beamed. Her heart was glowing with so much love for him, she thought it might burn right through her chest. “You’re the one person who might be able to change my mind.”

  “Then I’m a lucky fellow.”

  “I can’t believe how lucky we both were.”

  He pulled back a bit. “What do you mean?”

  “To have wound up together. What were the odds of that?”

  Mark threw back his head and laughed. “It had nothing to do with luck.”

  The truth dawned on her. “You switched the cards!” she gasped.

  He raised one brow. “Did I?”

  “You switched cards with your brother so I would end up with you!”

  “I had to, El. I couldn’t have you married off to anyone but me. I love you.”

  Her heart swelled in her chest as she realized the risks Mark Ramsay had taken for love. For the love of her. Elspeth Shutterhouse.

  Behind them a car door slammed.

  “What’s the damned hold-up back there?” a crusty voice exclaimed.

  “Ignore the old geezer,” Mark growled in her ear. “And just kiss me, Shutterhouse.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” she replied.

  “Like I said before,” he pulled her even closer. “Great minds think alike.”

  Did you like this introduction to the world of Londo City? If so, please post a review at your favorite online bookstore. And stay-tuned for the next installment of The Londo Chronicles, coming soon!

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  Books by Patricia Simpson

  Whisper of Midnight

  The Legacy

  Raven in Amber

  Lord of Forever

  The Haunting of Brier Rose

  The Night Orchid

  Lord of the Nile (Purrfect Love Anthology)

  The Lost Goddess

  Mystic Moon

  Just Before Midnight

  Jade

  The Dark Lord

  The Dark Horse

  The Last Oracle

  Spellbound

  The Marriage Machine (novella)

  Note: This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

   

  The Marriage Machine

   

  Copyright 2011 Patricia Simpson

   

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this novella, or portions thereof, in any form.

   

  ISBN 0-9823442-9-5

  EAN 978-0-9823442-9-3