Bitter Oath (New Atlantis)

chapter FIVE



Autumn 2334, New Atlantis GAIAN CONFEDERACY


‘My god, that’s amazing!’ Jane cried with more enthusiasm than Rene would have expected from the girl who had no interest in entomology.

She was staring at the ceiling to floor glassed in terrarium, which stretched the length of the large laboratory, and had been specifically designed to replicate their giant earthworm’s natural habitat. The room was darkened, except for the carefully regulated light that bombarded the surface of the habitat. This was designed to replicate the prairie sun. Inside the containment unit hundreds of pale, wriggling earthworms were burrowing down through the dry topsoil, some eight feet, to the water table below.

‘How many did you bring back with you?’

‘Five.’

‘And after only six months you have what… a hundred? There looks to be a hundred or more!’ Her stunned amazement lifted his heavy heart, and he gave her a sad smile.

‘The nearest we have been able to estimate, without disrupting the habitat, is eighty seven. We’ve reached optimal density, and will be moving a selection of the mature worms to a biosphere just outside the city for the next stage in the study.’ He knew his voice sounded flat and unenthused. This should be the happiest and most fulfilling stage in his life – the Nature Retrieval Program was streaking ahead, and his own experiments with the giant earthworms were producing spectacular results. It was all falling into place.

Jane turned to study him in the gloom. ‘Rene, you have to go see her.’

‘Who?’ He moved away, uncomfortable with her close scrutiny. Being around Jane was becoming harder and harder in the last months. Her silent concern only made his tumultuous emotions worse.

‘Your spinster. There is time now. Everything is going so well at this end. Go and visit her, as you planned.’

‘It isn’t necessary. I was able to connect with her grandfather without the assistance of the journals she has.’ He tried to keep his tone serious and unaffected, but the mere mention of Livianna Mulgrave sent his system into chaos. Already, he could feel his heart rate accelerating, and his breath becoming harder to find. In a few moments, his hands would start to shake. These symptoms had been his since he’d discovered the news about her early death. The only thing that had kept him sane was his work.

‘Not necessary to your work, but necessary to your emotional state. Rene, I’m worried about you. You’ve lost weight, you’re edgy as a cat on a hot tin roof, to quote a famous play, and you are utterly miserable. I know the signs…’ She had come to his side as she spoke, resting her hand on his bowed shoulder. Her warm touch amped up his symptoms, and he drew away.

‘You are mistaken Jane, there’s nothing wrong with me, other than overwork. Once the next stage in this experiment is complete, I plan to take some time off…’ The desperation in his voice was apparent, even to his own ears.

‘Rene, you are not all right. You’re suffering what all the Old Timers suffer when they fall in love. Your emotions are overwhelming you.’

‘In love? Don’t be such a childish romantic! I am nearly eight hundred years old, living inside a sexless clone. I have never been in love. And I am certainly not in love now, with a woman I met for a total of ten minutes. Let it go, little friend. It is overwork, nothing more.’

‘Love at first sight is the way it happens. Talk to Julio or Jac… even Faith will tell you. And rationalising it away doesn’t help. It will just get worse. You have to go see her.’

Rene swore in French, several of the Objewe dialects and English. Jane stood her ground like the fighter she was. He knew her history – the child of an aggressive drunk, a victim of molestation, a martial arts exponent who could beat even their resident commando, and a woman who rode out her Latino partner’s flashes of temper with affable acceptance. Anything he threw at her couldn’t compare.

In the end, he admitted defeat. He slid down the wall next to the containment unit until he was sitting on the floor; his knees up against his chest, his heavy head drooped forward. Jane knelt beside him, but didn’t attempt to touch him.

‘She’s going to die, Janey! And I don’t mean at the end of a long and fulfilling life. I mean she is going to die four months after I met her, at the ridiculous age of thirty.’ There were tears in his voice, and they embarrassed him. A man did not cry.

‘So she has a D Day. That can be a good thing. You Retrieve her! She might be a little out of the optimal era for Retrieval, but love will get her through the risk of Crash and Burn.’

‘Shut up, Jane! You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he barked. ‘She doesn’t just go missing. She dies in a highly public riding accident. I’ve seen the records. There is no way I can Retrieve her.’

Jane sat down on the floor beside him, and rested her head against his shaking shoulder. ‘Then I guess you have to make the most of the time you’ve got with her. And who knows, once you get to know her, you might find that all that glitters isn’t gold. She might be a total fishwife.’

He grunted with amusement at the idea of the very proper Regency Miss yelling and screeching like a fishwife. It made him feel a little better, and more willing to share.

‘You told me some time ago that I have walls around me. You were right. The Last Great Plague affected me, like it affected all of us, I think. And living in-situ for ninety years at a time, watching the people I cared about age quickly and die, generation after generation… I learned to keep them at a distance, so when I lost them it didn’t devastate me. It was the only way I survived as long as I did. You are the only one I have ever let in, Janey. And that is only because you stubbornly burrowed your way under the wall.’ They both gave a little laugh. ‘But also, I know you are not going to die. And you belong to that flashy South American.’

For a long time, they sat in the darkness together, not saying a word. Then finally Jane found her voice. ‘When Julio used to Jump without me in the early days, I used to get myself into such a state. I was terrified he’d die in-situ. It got so bad sometimes that I wondered if it might be better not to love him as desperately as I did. If I didn’t feel so much for him, I wouldn’t be hurt so much if anything happened to him. But I couldn’t turn my feelings off. And in the end, I learned to take the bad with the good, making the most of whatever time we have together.’

She fell silent for several more minutes, and then she continued in her soft, gentle voice. ‘And it seems that you can’t turn your feelings off for Livianna Mulgrave, this time. So maybe you have to take the good with the bad, and make the most of the time you can have together.’

The silence fell once more, as Rene mulled over the wisdom of his Medicine Woman.

‘What excuse could I give to the Committee to go back there? It is an unnecessary Jump, now that I have found Hugo Mulgrave and my giant worms.’ He liked calling them that, around Jane, rather than using their scientific name. It made them more ‘user friendly’.

‘Didn’t you say you were not sure what Mulgrave wrote in his personal journals? What if he mentioned you? Such an anomaly would need to be checked out.’

Rene sat up straighter as he considered the possibility. Yes, those journals might contain information on him that could be contentious. If he read them, at least he could be sure. His heart lifted with the first real hope he’d experienced in months. The idea of seeing Livianna again filled him with such painful joy it threatened to overwhelm him.

‘You’ll go?’ she asked, as she watched him processing the possibilities.

‘Yes, I will go. You never know, she might be a fishwife, and I have pined over her death all this time for nothing.’

Scrambling to his feet, he offered Jane his hand to draw her up. When they were standing, Jane wrapped her arms around him, her head resting against his neck. She was a tall woman, but he was a tall man, like her Julio, so he was still more than half a head taller. Livianna was tall for her generation too, but would barely reach his shoulder. What would it be like to hold her against his chest?

Maybe now he would have the opportunity to find out.





1 July 1810, Foxmoor Manor, Yorkshire ENGLAND



‘There’s a coach in the drive!’ Portia announced breathlessly, scampering into the library just as the sun climbed to its zenith. Liv looked up from the book she was reading with a frown.

‘Are we expecting visitors?’ she asked.

‘No, not while our aunt is away. Well, except for the mysterious Frenchman.’ Portia grinned impishly.

Liv felt her heart miss a beat. She had told him July, but it was only the first day of July. Surely he wouldn’t be that socially inept as to call so early in the month. But even as she condemned him for rashness, if it did prove to be him, she was also thrilled that he would be in such a hurry to visit.

If it was him.

‘It is probably old Miss Chambers from the village. Word has it that she has recovered from the ague and is now visiting again.’

Portia groaned loudly and indelicately. ‘Please, no. I do not wish anyone harm, but that bout of ague was a blessing in disguise. It quite saved my sanity. That woman will talk me into an early grave.’

Liv stood up and gave a little laugh, as she put her dusty tome back onto the reading table. ‘Poor Portia! Unless your Harry gets a rectory away from Harrogate, you will have to see far more of Miss Chambers, and all the other spinster ladies like myself, as a regular part of your role as rector’s wife.’

Portia shuddered dramatically. ‘If I run away on my wedding day, I shall blame you when Harry asks me why. He will then rain Almighty Retribution on you for your interference.’

At that moment, a head appeared around the open door. It was the second footman, young George. He smiled at them. Then, thinking better of it, he adopted a more sombre demeanour. He was still in training, and as a child who had grown up on the Manor, he treated it and its denizens as home and family. The sisters didn’t mind his informal ways, but the staff were hard on him for his liberties.

‘Sorry to interrupt, Misses Livy and Portia, but there’s a gentleman at the door who says he’s been invited to see your grandda’s books.’ He handed over the calling card with Rene L’Angley’s name and London residence on it.

Liv felt her heart kick up a beat. So he had come early. Portia would be delighted by this exhibition of untimely haste.

‘Show Lord L’Angley into the morning room, George. We will be there directly. Then go and announce his arrival to father. He will want to formally greet our visitor.’

‘Yes ’m!’ And, like a shot, George was off back to the front door, his sombre demeanour forgotten.

‘I have been beside myself with impatience to meet this young man. If he is as handsome, rich and mysterious as you and Augusta say, then I might throw over Harry, and marry him myself.’

Liv felt an uncharacteristic flash of jealousy. What if Rene did find her younger, prettier sister more to his taste? He would be a far better catch than Harry.

‘Oh Livy, don’t be a goose. He will have eyes only for you. Even if I didn’t love Harry to distraction, your young gentleman will not even notice I am in the room.’

Portia’s astute reading of Liv’s thoughts unsettled her. She had never shown serious interest in any man. But, here she was, feeling jealous that her engaged sister might draw the attention of a man she had only met for ten minutes.

After a suitable time, the ladies left the library, and made their way to the morning room at that back of the house. It was the warmest and brightest room at this time of day, and overlooked the rose garden, which was just starting to bud up for late summer and autumn.

The first sight of him standing there at the window drove the air from her body. How could just the sight of someone have such a profound effect? After the first reaction, she drank him in like a thirsty man downs water. He looked the same, but different. Still tall, dark and exotically handsome. But had he been that thin and dark the last time she saw him? His handsome features seemed haggard and older than she remembered. The lightness and youth was gone from him. How could he have aged years in a few weeks? Could he have been sick? Cholera was common for travellers, and could be recurrent. If he had experienced a bout of that disease, he would not look well after his recovery. But he wouldn’t be darker skinned, would he?

While she considered the possibility, Rene looked away from the view, and smiled a greeting. He strode quickly over to them and stopped just short of the polite distance for greeting a member of the opposite gender. Bowing stiffly to both sisters, he waited for their polite welcome.

‘My Lord, how delightful it is to see you again. I was half convinced you would not make the journey this far north is search of your giant earthworm,’ Liv said with a curtsey.

‘Miss Mulgrave, I have been counting the days.’

She didn’t need to look at Portia to know what she was making of such a remark. She hurried on to the introductions.

‘Lord L’Angley, may I introduce my sister, Portia. Portia, Rene L’Angley, late of the North American wilderness.’

‘I’m charmed,’ Rene said as Portia bobbed and gave him a demur smile.

‘You are very welcome to our home, my Lord. Father will be here shortly to greet you.’

They seated themselves while James, who had entered the room shortly after the ladies, hurried off to order tea.

‘I hope the journey north wasn’t too trying,’ Portia said, to fill the silence that was growing between them. Neither Rene nor Liv seemed able to find words, so intent were they on looking anywhere but at each other. But at last Rene gathered his wits to respond

‘No, not at all. The countryside was beautiful, and the weather pleasant. It is a more comfortable way to see the world than by ship. Although the Transatlantic crossing was surprisingly fast – only seven weeks.’

‘That was fast, my Lord. The winds were with you,’ Portia said.

‘Indeed. It was my first crossing, and I was expecting far worse.’

‘Your first trip to Europe? And you travel half of England in search of an earth worm? You would have made my grandfather and sister a fitting companion. Myself, if it was my first visit to London, I would be attending balls and other entertainments, for which that city is renown.’

‘I have never been one for society.’ Rene seemed unable to find anything else to say, and when Liv looked his way, she found that he was staring at her quite openly. She blushed.

At that moment, the door to the morning room opened, and their father bustled in. He looked somewhat in disarray, having been pulled from his accounts to greet his guest. But, after a cautious greeting, he seated himself on his favourite chair beside the unlit fireplace and seemed perfectly at ease.

‘Well, sir, I am told you have an interest in my father’s research. I must say, it has never been of interest to me. Since I could walk, my mother groomed me for my Gentry role, as father seemed disinclined to interest himself in the running of our estate. He would be gone for years at a time, leaving the estate to my mother and our manager to administer. I would not want such a husband for one of my daughters.’

Liv blushed with mortification. Her father was behaving as if L’Angley were here asking for her hand. Nothing could be further from the truth, and the young gentleman would be indignant at such an obvious slur.

‘I am lucky that my older brother inherited our estates. I have wealth enough that I can follow my interests wherever they lead. If I were to take a wife, she would have to share my interests, and be willing to travel with me. I would never leave her at home, waiting beside the fire for me. Such a lonely existence.’

Liv felt a frisson of excitement. For such a young man, L’Angley had handled her father perfectly. And he had left an opening there for her. Could he mean to court her because she shared his interests? To have a man to travel the world with, exploring nature like her grandfather had done, was her fondest daydream. Could this man possibly give it to her?’

‘I am not over-fond of Frenchmen,’ her father went on, this time a little more aggressively.

‘Then you will be pleased to know that I am only half French. My mother was an Obejwe. One of the First People of the North American continent.’

‘You are a halfbreed native?’ Hugo Mulgrave almost chocked on his shock. Liv felt her dream fade to nothing. There was no chance her father would ever consider a proposal from someone of mixed blood.

‘Not a term used in polite society at home, sir, but yes, it describes me accurately. There are many like myself in the Americas. My father’s first wife, whom he brought with him from France before the revolution, died at the birth of her second son. My father then married my mother. I am her eldest. I have two siblings younger than myself.’

Her father harrumphed at the easy way the young man handled his barbs. Although he would not condone a marriage now, he might consider the man a suitable guest in his home. After all, he could hardly rescind his daughter’s invitation without being taken for a boorish yokel.

‘Well, young man, I will leave you in the gentle hands of my daughters while I return to my accounts. I will see you at luncheon, I expect.’

‘I look forward to it,’ Rene replied politely, rising to his feet as Hugo did, and giving him a little bow. After their father left, and the footman entered with the tea, silence fell. Liv could not have imagined a more tense and uncomfortable moment.

Portia stepped in once again, pouring each of them a cup of tea, and handing them over. She indicated the plate of iced biscuits on the silver service with a gracious sweep of her hand. ‘You must excuse our father. He has many pressures on him and he, like you sir, has never had much time for society. How long do you plan on staying in England?’

‘I will see out the summer and autumn here, and then go to the continent for my own version of the grand tour. I will return home next May.’

‘So your father settled in New France before the revolution, and your mother is an Indian? Did you have any French ancestors who made their way to the New World before your father?’ Portia asked. Liv immediately knew where she was going with this query.

‘No. My ancestors all remained firmly in France. My father was the first adventurer, and as a younger son, it was never expected that he would be in line for the Duchy. Of course, when Madame Guillotine made their acquaintance, my father inherited the title, if not the wealth that went with it. But he had done well for himself. In the New World titles mean nothing. It embarrasses me to be called Lord L’Angley, even though the title is honorary.’

‘What would you prefer us to call you then, my Lord?’

‘We do not stand on ceremony at home. Would it be inappropriate if I asked you both to call me Rene?’

‘We tend to be rather informal ourselves. We would happily call you Rene, if you would do us the courtesy of calling us by our given names. I am Portia, the baby of the family. Livianna is our spinster, and goes by Liv or Livy.’

Liv blushed at her sister’s lack of manners. But at the same time, it appealed to her to be allowed to call him Rene, as this was how she thought of him in her imagination.

‘Then it will be Portia and Liv, then. Is that acceptable, Miss Mulgrave?’

This was the first time Rene had directly addressed her, and she blushed again. ‘Yes, Rene, it is perfectly acceptable to me. Although it might be wiser, when father is present, to remain on more formal terms. He can be quite prickly, as you have already witnessed.’

Rene laughed softly and, for the first time, Liv saw the young man she had met at the British Museum. She couldn’t help joining in with his mirth.