Enchanter's Embrace Read online

  Truly,

  Elizabeth

  “It certainly appears to be dire,” he confirmed. “We will need the story from Grayson.”

  “Thank you for seeing me.” Grayson Trimble stopped in the doorway to the solarium, his hat in his hands. The young man was one of Cora’s pet projects, his powerful magic something of a mystery that intrigued her. He was a quiet man, but there was a strength and goodness about him that Archimedes had always liked.

  “Come in Grayson.” Orrin waved the young man over the threshold and closed the door behind him. “Young George has just delivered your letter.”

  “Pardon my intrusion but I felt this could not wait.”

  “No trouble at all,” Orrin assured the boy. The men took up seats around him, but Archimedes chose to stand by the fire. He wanted to see Trimble’s face as he spoke, to gauge his forthrightness. He doubted Grayson would ever lie, but Archie had learned long ago that trust was a gift reserved for people who earned it.

  “To start, let me read the letter that you have brought,” Lucan said, taking the letter from Archie. He read it aloud, and all eyes were on young Trimble as he paled at the words. “Tell us about Elizabeth and Mr. Wicket, Grayson.”

  “I grew up in Kensington, on an estate known as Alabaster Acres. Elizabeth Langley lived next to us on her parents’ estate called Belvedere Plain. We were childhood friends and spent many years together, as thick as thieves.”

  “I take it that you left Kensington for Desmond House when your wizardry manifested?” Archie asked.

  “I did.” Grayson’s mouth was turned down, his eyes heavy lidded. Archimedes knew that more had existed between Elizabeth and Grayson than friendship. It was apparent in the pain it caused to appear on his face. “When I was fifteen I was moved to Desmond House. At eighteen, Elizabeth married Delbert Wicket, the heir to Summer Ridge; the estate bordered both Alabaster and Belvedere to the south. Two years ago Delbert was killed in the French-German conflict and Elizabeth was left a widow to care for Delbert’s aging father.”

  “The Mr. Wicket mentioned in the letter,” Bastion murmured.

  “Yes. I saw Elizabeth last month when I visited my parents and all was well. Yesterday this letter arrived. Elizabeth would not ask for my help unless she was desperate.”

  “What does Elizabeth know of the influence of dark wizards?” Lucan crossed his legs, his eyes narrow on Grayson. Archimedes hid his smile when the young wizard paled even more as the Grand Master addressed him.

  “Before Icarus came to London Elizabeth and I knew a man named Atticus Dooley. He was a blacksmith, and we later discovered he was also a dark wizard. He terrorized the families of our small community before he was killed in the expulsion of dark magic from London.”

  “Dark wizardry is hard to mistake,” Bastion said thoughtfully. “Especially if you’ve experienced its touch before.” He sat forward. “Do you believe a dark wizard once again haunts Kensington, Grayson?”

  “I do not know.”

  That, Archimedes knew, was the truth. Grayson wanted to believe Elizabeth, but he was also skeptical that an old man’s behavior was due to black magic.

  “Very well. We shall have to investigate Summer Ridge, then. Can you acquire an invitation for us?” Lucan asked.

  “Now hold on, Icarus and Cora are away,” Archimedes argued.

  “I’m afraid that I’ll be away as well.” Lucan grinned at them as he finished his brandy. “The World Magic Council will meet to discuss the terms of our newest technological and magical endeavors. I’ll be in India at the behest of Her Majesty for the next three months.”

  “I don’t think Elizabeth will be safe for that long,” Grayson said with a shake of his head. “If a dark wizard is in Kensington we must discover him and dispatch him.”

  “I agree, lad.” Orrin’s brown eyes narrowed on Archimedes. “Adept Merriweather and the rest of his merry band should be perfectly able to ferret out any dark wizard and dispatch him as needed.”

  Archimedes stood in stunned silence, staring at the Grand Master.

  “You’ll have Bastion, Corrigan and your lady at your side, Merriweather. Isn’t that sufficient?” Orrin’s mouth turned up in a sly grin. “And Machiavelli will accompany you, of course.”

  At the mention of the Grand Master’s familiar, Archimedes burst into action. He guffawed, shaking his head. “Though your bird was of great help on our last mission I daresay he still wants to shit on my hat!” He pushed away from the mantle. “I agree that Bastion, Corrigan and Lucia are a grand party, and for no better wizards and friends could a man ask. But, why me? I’m a wards-smith. I have little in the way of offensive knowledge.”

  “There are times when a man must strike out away from the shadow of others, Merriweather.” Orrin glanced pointedly at Archie and raised his eyebrows. “You are a talented wizard and capable of solving this mystery and helping Mr. Trimble’s Elizabeth.” He sat forward, his elbows on his knees. “You have, after all, been trained by the best wizards I know.”

  Archimedes sighed. “I suppose that there is no alternative, then. With you and Icarus away it falls to us to go to Kensington.”

  “I’ll be going with you.” Grayson stood, his hat crushed in his hands. “I have to protect Elizabeth.”

  Archimedes remembered the power of the young man’s archaic magic, something that he had never really been able to understand. He knew it was white, though, and full of protective instinct. “Very well. We will need all the help we can get, I would say. Procure the invitation to Summer Ridge and meet us as soon as it’s done.”

  They all looked up as the clock struck half past twelve.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Orrin said, rising, “I believe we’re to join Her Majesty for tea. Perhaps we’d best be going.”

  Lucia stared hard at the woman in the mirror.

  “Is it not to your liking, madam?” The tailor’s head poked from behind Lucia’s legs, her brow furrowed.

  “No, no, it’s a lovely gown.” Lucia smoothed down the burnt orange silk-taffeta. The cuirass bodice was lined with whalebone and gave the appearance of a delicate waistline.

  “Are you unsure of the color?”

  “It’s not something I’d choose,” Lucia hedged.

  “Oh dear, it’s lovely against your skin.” The seamstress moved aside as the maid stepped in to adjust the upswept curls at Lucia’s neck.

  “Cora would know what to do,” Lucia muttered.

  “Trust us, dear. This is beautiful on you.”

  “If you say so.”

  The seamstress smiled. “Is there a special gentleman waiting for you?”

  “Yes.”

  The woman patted Lucia’s hand as the maid dropped the darker sienna Dolman over her shoulders and buttoned her in. The sleeves were restrictive, but she was able to reach her wand, kept in an interior hidden pocket in her skirt.

  “If he isn’t speechless then I’ll forfeit the cost of the gown.”

  Lucia gaped. The dress cost easily twice the woman’s weekly wage, and it was no light wager she was making. “No need,” she assured the woman, though apprehension was still rumbling in her stomach. “I have every confidence in your talent.”

  The clock struck half past twelve and the bell for the carriage rang by the door.

  “That’s the footman ringing that your carriage is ready,” the seamstress said with a light push. “Have a lovely tea, dear.”

  “Thank you.” Lucia picked up her small satchel and opened the door. She should probably be more worried about her presentation to the Queen, but all she could think of was Archimedes. Would he like her garish orange gown? She stuffed down her worries and hurried to the stairs where the butler waited to escort her down. She knew Archimedes well enough by now to know that he probably wouldn’t even notice the color of the dress. Whenever he looked at her, he always seemed entranced. It never hurt to boost her ego, of that she was sure.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he was waiting for her, the mid-day
sun dappling his hair. He wore his severe black suit and crisp white shirt, his cravat tight against his throat. When his eyes locked with hers, she felt a blush bloom.

  He stepped forward to take her hand from the butler. “You look stunning.”

  “It’s not too much?” she whispered.

  “Is what too much?”

  She laughed as her suspicions were confirmed. He hadn’t even registered the color of the dress. “The orange. Is it hideous?”

  He took a step back to look her over, a serious perusal. She felt the weight of his eyes trail white-hot desire over every inch of her body.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He leaned close to press a chaste kiss to her cheek, but she heard his whisper. “Even in that dress.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand and held back her laughter. There was no man in the entire world who could make her laugh as he did. He was so handsome, the sharp contours of his face softened by his girlishly long lashes and deep amber eyes. She touched the corner of his mouth with her gloved fingertip. “How have I been so blessed?”

  He took her hand and led her out to the waiting carriage. The others had gone on ahead, leaving them to ride alone to Buckingham. He helped her into the carriage and held her hand, his thumb stroking over the satin of her gloves.

  “We’ve been asked to investigate possible dark magic in Kensington,” he said suddenly, staring out the window at the passing city. “Icarus and Cora are away and Lucan is soon to leave for India. It falls to us to solve this mystery.”

  “And this worries you?” she asked, noticing his mood.

  “I’m not prepared to use offensive magic again.”

  She leaned closer. Were they any other couple the ton would have skewered them for their lack of “proper decorum”, but wizards were afforded more leniency in matters of etiquette than “common folk.” Still, the last thing on her mind was decorum when she pressed her lips to his. “I will never let anything happen to you.”

  He grinned. “As always, I am safe when I am with you.”

  “As always.”

  It had become something of a joke between them that she had saved his life in Longmoore, destroying their oldest common enemy. Now she made sure he didn’t forget it any time she could.

  He sobered. “We must be careful in Kensington. This could be the battle that topples the delicate peace we’re trying to forge.”

  “We will do our best, and that is all we can do.”

  “Still. I wish Icarus were here. He always knows the right moves to make.”

  “And so do you,” she assured him, her hands covering his. The metal of his copper hand was smooth and cool. “I trust you and so does Lucan. You are capable of great things, Archimedes Merriweather.”

  “Only when I’m with you.” He put his arm around her and held her close, his chin resting on her head. “I fear that without you I am only a shell of a man.”

  “That may be true,” she teased, “but you were a hero long before you began courting me.”

  “I was never a hero until the night I met you.”

  She closed her eyes, the memories of that dreadful night surging against her eyelids. Were it not for Archimedes she would have died at the hands of an evil dark mage. The very same mage who’d attacked Archie in the alley, nearly killing him and costing him his arm and shoulder. “And I’m forever grateful for that courage.” She opened her eyes as the carriage came to a halt at the gates to the Palace. “Now it’s time to muster it up again. We’re about to meet the Queen.”

  VICTORIA WAS NEITHER fat nor thin. She sat regally upon her throne and stared down her patrician nose at them, a slight tilt to her chin. The crown, Archimedes thought idly, was smaller than he had imagined.

  “Archimedes Merriweather, Grand Adept Mage of London and Lady Lucia Conti, House Conti, Apothecary House,” the footman announced with a bow.

  “Adept Merriweather.” Her voice was deep, her face unlined, but a dark sadness sat squarely in her eyes. One paid that price when a soulmate passed away, Archie thought to himself as he stepped forward to bow. Her consort was gone but she could not show her sorrow to her people.

  “Your Majesty.”

  “Step forward, Sir Merriweather. I’ve heard tales of your mechanical arm.”

  He moved closer, ignoring the sudden tensing of her guards. He held up his arm and she touched it delicately, pressing the copper and steel beneath his coat. She moved his fingers and raised an eyebrow in admiration at the delicate movements of his joints. When she released him, he returned to his position an appropriate distance away.

  “Lady Conti. Step forward.”

  Lucia moved beside Archie and curtsied prettily.

  “Your parents are regulars at court, Lady Conti. Gems among my courtesans.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Why have I not seen you there?”

  Lucia blushed. “I attended boarding school in France, Your Majesty, before joining Apothecary House.”

  The Queen nodded. “We wish to extend Our thanks to you both, for your services to Crown and Country. The business at Longmoore was unprecedented evil that We hope never to encounter again.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” they said in unison.

  “As such, I look forward to hearing more of your exploits from Captain Levisque.” The Monarch’s lips curved into a smile at the mention of her Air Corps captain. “I hope you will agree to join me for tea. I believe that rascal Lucan Orrin will be in attendance as well.”

  “Yes, thank you, Your Majesty.”

  She waved them away and Lucia let out a long, slow breath when the door to the Queen’s receiving room closed behind them. “That was far too intense for my liking.”

  “We faced three dark wizards, but one small Queen has you quaking,” he joked.

  She patted a bead of sweat from his forehead with a raised eyebrow and he laughed.

  “Tea is due at two. Shall we stroll the gardens in the meantime?”

  She took his arm and looked up at him through her lashes. “How many ladies have you strolled through the gardens with, Archimedes?”

  “I’ve never even been to the gardens, dear Lucia, and even if I had, I’d not remember a one of them after seeing you.”

  “Sweet talker,” she said with feigned exasperation. She pulled him closer. “Lead the way.”

  Tea was a proper but jovial affair with Orrin keeping them entertained through the crumpets and down to the bottom of the pot. When Her Majesty had retired for the afternoon, it left only Corrigan, Bastion, Lucan, Archie and Lucia at the table.

  “The Jenkins’ have an early ship home on the morrow,” Lucan said, folding his arms. “But I am glad I have a moment to impress upon you the importance of this mission.”

  “We’ve faced dark wizards before,” Levisque said, crossing his legs.

  “But not when there is such a delicate line between peace and war.” Orrin’s words held the power of portent, the aether pressing hard on them all as he spoke. “One faltering step could lead us all to destruction.”

  They were silent around the table, and Lucia let her hand creep into Archimedes’.

  After a heavy moment, Lucan smiled, and the air cleared. He clapped his hand as he stood; all glimmer of dark forewarning gone. “And now our adventures begin! Much luck to us all in our endeavors.”

  Alabaster Acres

  Kensington

  The future of estates like Alabaster Acres was uncertain. It was one of three lone holdouts in the rash of sellouts that had started late in the year of 1867. The land of the large agricultural estates was parceled and sold to architects and surveyors building villas and communal gardens, bringing the nouveau riche from the crowded, once-popular streets in central London to the fresh air of Kensington. Only Alabaster Acres, Belvedere Plain, and Summer Ridge were left, holding staunchly onto their once-proud heritage with noses high in the air.

  “So much construction,” Bastion murmured as they s
tood on the deck of the airship and looked out over most of South Kensington. More than a few projects were in the works, the builders like ants on the ground.

  “My father has declared that he will die before selling off his land to Macartney or any other speculative builder who comes around.” Grayson’s face was sad as he took in the changes to the once-sprawling acreage of his childhood homeland. “Alabaster has been in our family since my grandfather’s grandfather built it, and it will go to my brother when my father dies.”

  “A noble legacy.” Archimedes took Levisque’s spyglass and focused on the land to the south. “And here we see Summer Ridge. Another holdout in the agricultural game, I see.”

  “They produce an impeccable sparkling wine grape from their vineyards. One of the few in England. Elizabeth is holding on to Summer Ridge because it is what Delbert would have wanted her to do. He was as dedicated to Summer Ridge as my father is to Alabaster.”

  “And Belvedere?” Archimedes could barely see the manor house to the south and east through the overgrowth of trees between the estates.

  “Elizabeth’s father is aging. He has health issues that will make him not long for this world. The estate will pass to his eldest son, Jeremiah, who will not hesitate to sell off the land.” Grayson’s mouth turned down in dislike of the eldest Langley son. “Most likely he will have debts that require paying.”

  “Not fond of Jeremiah, I see.” Archie closed the spyglass with a snick.

  “Not especially,” Trimble confessed his mouth a hard line. “He is older than both Elizabeth and I, and always a lay about and a drunken swine. He used to chase us with a stick, aiming to hit us with it if he could.”

  “And you always took the blows, to save Elizabeth the hurt, I imagine.” Archie grinned at the young wizard. “I would expect nothing less.”