A Cold Legacy

“The candle—I left one on the cabinet,” she said.

 

I lit it quickly, letting the light spill out over the wires and switches rigged into the walls of the laboratory. “This is where Elizabeth controls all the electrical systems,” I said. “She’ll be here soon to repair it. We need to clear out quickly before she comes.”

 

“I don’t think he can walk yet,” Lucy said.

 

I bit my lip. I’d poured all my energy into reaching this point; I hadn’t actually thought past it to what we’d do with him afterward.

 

“Help me with the manacles.” By the light of the single candle, Lucy and I unfastened the shackles and dressed him quickly. His unfocused eyes moved back and forth in their sockets; his forehead was damp and feverish. While Lucy did up the buttons on his shirt, I cleaned the laboratory of signs of our presence as best I could, swept up the blood-soaked sawdust and tossed it out the window along with the poor vagrant’s empty skull, and wiped down the knives and instruments.

 

I opened the door. Balthazar stood on the other side in his blue-striped pajamas. When he gazed beyond me at Edward moaning on the table, he whimpered.

 

“My friend,” I said, “I need your help once more to carry Edward downstairs. But I won’t command you to do it this time. I was wrong to before. This time I’m asking, as a favor to me. You can say no.”

 

He rocked back and forth in indecision, until Edward moaned again. “I shall, miss, but only because Master Edward needs me.” He paused, kneading his fingers together. “Though if I’m free to say no, am I also free to make a request?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Tell Montgomery about this. Or allow me to tell him. It isn’t right, keeping it from him.”

 

Edward moaned again, and Lucy gave me a look that said we dared not wait much longer.

 

“I will,” I blurted out to Balthazar, a little desperately. “I promise. Only give Edward some time to heal. I’ll tell Montgomery after the wedding. Is that good enough?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, miss.” He lumbered into the room and picked up Edward with gentle care.

 

“Take him to my bedroom,” I said in a rush. “There’s a dressing screen with a chaise longue. We’ll keep him there until he’s fully conscious, then move him somewhere more permanent until we can figure out how to tell everyone about him.”

 

Lucy and I followed Balthazar down the winding staircase and through the halls as he carried Edward. For once, I was thankful for the poor electricity that let us sneak through the halls under cover of darkness. At last we made it to my room.

 

“Thank you,” I whispered to Balthazar.

 

He paused before leaving. “Just remember your promise. It isn’t good to keep secrets, miss.”

 

When he was gone, Lucy helped me lay Edward down in the chaise longue behind the screen. He reached a hand up, combing it through his sweaty hair, his eyes still glassy.

 

“Juliet?” he mumbled.

 

I knelt at his side, wiping the sweat from his too-cold skin. “Yes, it’s me. You’ve undergone an extensive medical procedure and you’re recovering.”

 

“I died,” he said. “I think . . . I died.”

 

I glanced at Lucy. I hadn’t thought through how to explain to him what we had done.

 

A knock came at the adjoining door, soft at first, and Lucy and I both froze.

 

“Juliet?” It was Montgomery. “Are you awake? I thought I heard you walking around.”

 

Eyes wide in terror, I thrust the cloth into Lucy’s hand and signaled for her to keep Edward quiet. I hurried to the adjoining door, trying to think straight.

 

“Montgomery?” I said through the door.

 

“I can’t sleep. Stay with me tonight—I want to wake up with you on our wedding day.”

 

My wedding. Tomorrow. I looked back at the dressing screen, where I could barely make out Lucy and Edward. I’d tell Montgomery about Edward eventually, as I’d promised, once he regained his strength and things had settled down. It would be a shock, but Montgomery would understand in time. He’d even be delighted to have Edward back—surely.

 

But I didn’t dare tell him tonight.

 

“I think . . . that’s bad luck, isn’t it?” I said. “To see the bride on her wedding day.”

 

“It isn’t yet midnight,” his voice came. “There’s no rule about not seeing the bride the day before.” His voice was so light and playful, in stark contrast to the procedure we had just wrought in Elizabeth’s laboratory.

 

I glanced back at the dressing screen, where Lucy was dabbing at Edward’s forehead as he tried to sit up.

 

“One kiss,” I said, and twisted the key in the lock, swinging open the door and stepping into his room quickly. If he sensed how nervous I was, he must have attributed it to wedding jitters.

 

Megan Shepherd's books