A Grave Inheritance

Cate placed an arm around my shoulder and guided me farther into the room. “Come here, dear,” she said with more patience than I deserved. “I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

 

 

One look at Mr. Faber seated cross-armed on the settee, and I dug in my heels to keep from going any farther. “I...I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I stammered. “Please, just let me return to my chamber. I promise not to—”

 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Cate said. “Not until those scrapes are seen to.”

 

The sudden tension in her arm countered any further refusals. Like an obedient child, I let her guide me to an armchair where I sat stiff-backed on the very edge of the cushion. The blacksmith looked on, but I kept my eyes averted as a flood of warmth passed through me.

 

“There you are,” Cate said, patting my arm. “Good as new once the dirt and blood are cleaned up. Too bad I can’t say the same thing for that gown. Fanny has a fine hand for sewing, though these rips may exceed her skill.”

 

I had figured as much. “Thank you,” I said, attempting to stand. “I should go change before anyone else sees me.”

 

Cate placed a firm hand on my shoulder to keep me from rising. I sank down and looked at her imploringly. I wanted desperately out of her room. Once gone though, I didn’t know if I would ever be able to meet her eyes again.

 

Oh, why hadn’t I just stayed in my room and written letters to Allison and Katrina? I could have kicked myself for being such a Nosey Nell and giving into my curiosity.

 

“Tom,” Cate said without taking her eyes from me. “Will you get a wet cloth for Selah? No doubt she will want to freshen up before I explain why you are in my private chamber this afternoon.”

 

Mr. Faber laughed good-naturedly and pushed to his feet. Based on the state of his long chestnut hair and disheveled clothing, the reason for his visit required no further explanation. Not to mention the hastily donned dressing gown that now covered Cate from nape to floor in a shower of dark green silk. I might have been from a small village in the Colonies, but I knew what it meant when two people had to scramble for clothing after being discovered prostrate together on a new velvet settee.

 

“Please don’t bother,” I pleaded. Cate didn’t budge an inch, and I tumbled headfirst into a fit of nervous babbling. “Henry discovered the passageway when he followed a young girl into your gardens after the big to-do at Amelia’s party. And then the other night I heard someone pass by my chamber. Curiosity got the best of me, though I should never have gone exploring without permission. Upon my soul, not a word of this shall ever leave my lips.”

 

Cate looked amused at Mr. Faber. “You don’t usually pass by Selah’s room on the way to mine. Was this the night you arrived in your cups from the tavern?”

 

The blacksmith nodded solemnly. “Aye, I lost my bearings and almost had to sleep it off inside the walls.” He dipped a cloth into the porcelain basin on the dressing table and squeezed out the excess water. Blood burned anew in my face when he handed it to me, and I took full advantage of the cloth to hide my embarrassment.

 

Unfortunately, one can only wash for so long. With great reluctance, I brought the cloth down, my face tingling from the thorough scrubbing, and my thoughts somewhat composed for the impending explanation. Cate and Mr. Faber appeared entirely at ease, without the slightest hint of guilt. To be sure, they looked nothing at all like two people should who had just been caught in an illicit love affair.

 

Be calm, I reminded myself. This is London. People live by different rules here than they do in Hopewell. My chin trembled when I attempted a placid expression. All the same, I squared my shoulders and looked directly at Cate, prepared to just smile and nod as Nora had always advised me to do in such circumstances.

 

“Selah,” Cate said, gesturing to the blacksmith. “Let me introduce my husband, Mr. Tom Faber.”

 

My composure fled like a startled finch “Your...your husband?” I gasped, so shocked I completely forgot Nora’s advice. “You’re married to the blacksmith?”

 

Mr. Faber gave a hearty laugh and bowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance again, Miss Kilbrid.”

 

A thought snapped into place, and my eyes flew back to Cate. “He saw you heal me. Does he know what we are?”

 

Now it was Cate’s turn to laugh. “Tom Faber is just an alias he has picked up over the years. His real name is Tiarnach O’Brid, so yes he is well aware of our lineage as he shares it himself.”

 

I stared at Tom, or Tiarnach, my mouth open enough to catch flies if there were any about. He gave me a kind smile then spoke to Cate. “I best be going, Caitria. The Duke of Buckingham has commissioned another automaton.” His eyes cut to me for a second. “And I believe Miss Kilbrid needs some time alone with you.”

 

“You’re probably right,” Cate said, sounding somewhat wistful.

 

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