Imperial Clock

CHAPTER Eight

An Offshore Wind



“I know very well what you’re about.” And Sonja found herself surprisingly willing to discuss Derek Auric, the ins and outs of the match, their prospects for happiness. Aunt Lily and Lady Catarina were both perched like especially well-groomed birds of paradise on the edge of the plain settee, watching her closely. She jumped onto the armchair opposite them and crouched askew. “Well, who wants to go first?”

“Sonja, sit up straight.” A weary rebuke from Aunt Lily. She’d flown home from her friends in Scotland at short notice, and hadn’t indulged a much-needed lie-in.

Sonja let her feet slide to the carpet and, conscious of being scrutinized by their beautiful aristocratic guest, made sure her petticoats didn’t make an appearance. “Have either of you met Mr. Auric?” She guessed, no, hoped they hadn’t—she wanted to frame their opinion of Derek with a sweetening touch of her own. She’d looked at the match from every conceivable angle, with as much objectivity as she could muster, and had convinced herself nothing trumped the way she felt about him and the way he seemed to feel about her.

“I have had occasion to meet Mr. and Mrs. Auric, but I can’t recall having the pleasure of meeting their son.” Lady Catarina’s posture could best the right angle on any protractor, while her application of rouge and lipstick and eye shadow and whatever blemish-masking powder she used would take Sonja ten lifetimes to perfect. Yes, she could learn a lot from this woman, this house-sitting Aphrodite. “Mr. Auric has a reputation of some note as a businessman,” the lady added. “In stationary, I believe. One of those things one rarely gives a second thought until one runs out. Where would we all be without pen and ink?”

“And paper,” said Aunt Lily.

“And pencil sharpeners,” added Sonja, at which point everyone seemed to lose their train of thought. “I have to say, this is very riveting and all...”

“What’s he like, this Mr. Auric you’ve been seeing?” Aunt Lily played with the settee’s frilly arm cover.

“I haven’t been seeing him. He saved our lives that night in the Lake District, and we happened to meet at the Steam Fair.” Sonja gauged their reactions—the hints of canny smiles, as though they could see right through her coyness. “He’s lovely. Quiet and reserved as a rule, but wait till you see him with his dander up. And we have so much in common. At lunchtimes—” She watched for signs of objection, saw only captivated gazes, “—we talk about everything from biology to adventure novels to politics, and never an unkind word between us. I’m pretty sure he disagrees with a lot of my theories, but he never shoots them down—it’s sweet how he lets me ramble on, then puts a twist on what I’ve said, to get me to see things from a different point of view. He’s incredibly bright. About to start an apprenticeship in the Leviacrum, you know. And he’s about the most handsome teacher I...” She didn’t want to overdo it.

“He does sound lovely.” Both women agreed, yet the wistful inflection in Aunt Lily’s voice suggested she had more to add.

“But?”

“And he wishes to call on you this weekend?”

“Yes. Saturday afternoon. But?”

“And he’s discussed you with his parents, I take it?”

Sonja shrugged. “Who cares? He’s old enough to—”

“He might be, but you are most assuredly not.” The musical indignation of Aunt Lily, as cloying as it was rhythmic.

Sonja made an especially rude and unmelodic noise.

“Sonja McEwan!”

“Lily McEwan!”

“You’re not helping yourself. Lady Catarina and I are trying to explain something to you, something that might not have occurred to you.”

“Astonish me.”

Lady Catarina inched closer to Aunt Lily. “As much as we want you to be happy, Sonja, you have to understand the delicate social implications of a union of this sort. I’m sure Mr. Auric is a fine gentleman, and if his parents are any indication, there can be no doubt of that, but—” Ah, the but at last, “the fact is that Mr. Auric, Senior has close business connections that are deeply embroiled with the government. You said so yourself, your Mr. Auric has just been awarded a prestigious scientific situation in the tower itself.”

“Which I am in complete favour of.”

“Are you, though? Are you really?”

“Um, unless I’m speaking a language I’m not aware of, that would be a yes.”

Lady Catarina tilted her head. “Bearing in mind, in society as well as politics, one is far more than one’s person; friends, affiliations, family: these are the shared organs of one’s reputation, no matter how unfair that may be. Your Aunt Lily has worked tirelessly to mend the damage done the McEwan name by slanderous rumours, but those rumours still persist. One’s social currency rises and falls on how one is perceived by others. Unfortunately, your father’s success has won him more enemies than friends, powerful enemies, especially within the Leviacrum Council; and even more unfortunately, those enemies are hostile to the McEwan name, to whomever bears it.

“Clochefort was immensely popular and his suicide was not easily forgotten. His colleagues exert enormous influence in the media, in government, and especially in social circles. Neither you nor Meredith experience its full brunt because you don’t live in London. But if you were to marry Mr. Auric, you would have to move there as per his new situation, and you would be taking the McEwan name with you, forcing him to defend it alongside you. His family would also inherit that animosity by association.

“Now, we don’t wish to scupper your happiness, Sonja, far from it. If your heart is set on Mr. Auric, and his on you, then the words of two unmarried women should be taken for what they are—friendly advice, nothing more. You’re almost seventeen now and the choice is yours alone. Your father has asked us to guide you as far as we are able, to see that you marry for the right reasons.”

“I was just wondering about that: why aren’t you two married? Surely you’ve had a million offers each by now.”

“Let’s just say we’re very demanding on that score,” said Aunt Lily. “You’re lucky to be so young and to have found a man you’d even consider marrying for love. We’re here to help you make the best of it, but also to guide you through the broader picture.”

“I appreciate that,” Sonja replied. “It’s what Mother would have wanted.”

“I know.” In the softening of Aunt Lily’s gaze, a glint of utter selflessness took Sonja aback. As a parental figure, she’d failed miserably over the years, taking no more than a passing interest in her nieces, rarely bothering to get to know them beyond how they were doing at school, making sure their manners were up to snuff during outings—that would be a no, never—and had always turned any conversation back onto herself, her own experiences, her own tastes (or lack of). This sudden slobbering of concern had no precedent. But neither was it unpleasant to see.

“Say I do accept his proposal, can you help me?”

“Of course, sweetie. Lady Catarina and I will do our utmost to arrange any introductions. That’s no problem.”

“It isn’t just that. It’s—well, I want to be a lady for him.”

Another tacit nod between the two women. How had they seen this moment coming while Sonja had gone to such lengths to avoid it?

“You’ll teach us? Merry and I?”

“We’ll teach you all we know, certainly. It will be our pleasure.” Lady Catarina glanced behind her to make sure no one was listening in. “But I rather think Meredith has other things on her mind.”

“Like what?”

“She hasn’t told you? Oh dear. Maybe I should have waited.”

“It’s all right,” Aunt Lily assured her friend. “It’s all happening so quickly, isn’t it.”

“What’s to do with Merry?”

“She’s leaving, sweetie. For London, in a few days. Lady Catarina’s putting her up in a little two-up, two-down on the edge of Vincey Park.”

Mist. Empty rooms and grey forest paths. Gnawing loneliness. For one of them, both of them, there would be no turning back from this. She’d done it to Merry. Driven her away, betrayed her. In following her own heart, she’d broken her sister’s, and nothing she could ever do would heal things between them.

“Where is she?”

“Out.”

“When will she be...back?” The tip of a shadow jabbed across the carpet, one Sonja was sure had belonged to the hat stand in the hallway. It had been there all the time they’d been talking. Now it lolled and thickened and suddenly grew slender before it reached across the carpet toward the stairs. Merry didn’t even look in as she passed. She climbed the stairs slowly, proudly, not letting on what she’d heard—everything?

Sonja wanted to run after her, throw her arms around her big sister, tell her nothing was going to change and that they’d always be inseparable. Insuperable. Like the heroines of Moon and Meridian.

But that just wasn’t true. Not any more.

From here on, nothing would ever be the same.



***



“What will you do in London?”

Her eyes having grown accustomed to the dark, Sonja slid the bedclothes down to her waist to cool herself off. Sweating over what would happen to Merry, what Derek’s family would say when he broke the news to them, what Father was up to on his expedition, whether she could really ever be a lady fit for polite society—indeed, did she want to be one, other than for Derek’s sake?—was a sure prescription for an unpleasant night of tossing and turning, so she leapt up and thrust the window open.

“Merry?” Her sister was definitely awake; Merry never slept on her back without snoring, and she was staring soundlessly at the ceiling. “You’re set on solving your riddle, aren’t you?”

“Dead set.”

“But you’ll be moving back once you’ve finished?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

A melancholic sickle swiped through her. “Well I’m sure they’ll flock to you like bees to pollen in London. The men, I mean. You and Lady Catarina will make all the headlines.”

“That isn’t why I’m going. We’ll have to see.”

Sonja frowned so intensely, held it for so long in the dark her brow began to ache. “This feels wrong. It feels too sudden. Why don’t you wait awhile?” I don’t want to go through this entirely on my own. “It’s bound to be crazy when Derek’s family gets involved. How could we not enjoy mocking them?” It sounded desperate, as though she was trying every low trick in the book to appeal to their sisterly rapport.

“Telephone me whenever you like. It’s not as though I’m following Father into the underworld. We can update each other regularly, mock anyone we like at any time, you know. This is something I have to do, just as that’s something you have to do. I...need to get away.”

“Then do something for me—be careful.”

“I will. And you...don’t let them change you into something you’re not. I mean that.”

“Fly my own flag, you mean?”

“Uh-huh. And keep your own heading. And all the other nautical things you can think of. Derek’s interested in you for who you are, not who you ought to be. Remind Aunt Lily of that when she forgets.”

“Aye.” A cooling, soothing draught circulated the bedroom, exciting Sonja’s open pores, making her shiver pleasantly. “You think we can make a go of it...Derek and I?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Promise you’ll come back soon to meet him?”

“I’ll meet him, I’m sure.” Merry got up and snapped the window closed, killing the draught. With it went the cool and pleasant air between them. A strange energy began to build up in the room. No longer the tension of previous days, that charged, oppressive gulf; in its place was a sort of grudgingly happy expectation, as if a haunted river was about to burst its dam and flood the room and whisk them both away to shores unknown. Only ever a telephone call away from one another, but out of sight, out of earshot, beyond winking distance.

Minutes passed before Sonja found the words she hoped would keep the conversation going well into the night: “I wonder what Mother would say.”

“I wonder,” Merry answered, then slowly turned onto her side, away from Sonja. That was the last time they ever spoke in the bedroom they’d grown up in together.