Shadowdance(133)

Her instincts screamed that something was afoot.

“Mistress Chase,” said Lane, “you look lovely.” He offered her his arm. “If you would come with me?” His blue-grey eyes twinkled. “And before you ask, I’m not at liberty to divulge any information. Master Talent’s orders.”

“Since when do you take orders from Jack?” she asked, as they made their way up a narrow spiral staircase.

Lane grinned, and the scars along his face wrinkled. “Since he asked me to return a well-earned favor.”

Without another word he led her through Holly Evernight’s laboratory. The lofty space was abandoned and too quiet, and the click of her heels echoed against the marble.

With the bearing of a duke’s son, Lane stopped at a pair of massive doors hung on rollers, and pushed one wide.

Sunlight poured through the glass ceiling and bathed Holly’s dirigible with brilliant white winter light. Standing at the prow, his form just visible behind the wide glass windows, was Jack.

Mary began to smile, her heart whirring just a bit faster.

Seeing her, he moved away from the window and emerged a moment later to deftly descend the dirigible’s ladder. Mary barely noticed Inspector Lane stepping away. Her attention was on the man walking toward her.

And then Jack was there. Neither of them spoke, Mary because he’d struck her dumb. The man who stood before her was the Jack Talent of old, impeccably dressed and groomed, so very stiff with formality, and yet he was also the Jack she’d become close to, large and vibrating with strength and energy. He was utterly gorgeous.

He wore a charcoal-grey morning suit that hugged the broad strokes of his torso like a second skin. The cutaway coat emphasized his strong thighs and long legs, encased in dove-grey trousers. A smoky-green silk tie was knotted beneath his pristine white collar, the contrasting hues emphasizing the color of his eyes and the golden tone of his skin.

“Well, look at you,” she finally managed.

A tinge of color washed over his broad cheeks. “It was past time.” His voice was subdued, almost hesitant, and Mary wondered again what he was about this day.

Jack took another step, then planted his feet and linked his hands behind him. Such a stiff pose, yet his eyes roamed over her with a kind of hunger that made her flush. Why wouldn’t he embrace her? He stood as though he were afraid of her, but looked at her as if she were the only person in the room. Mary did not know what to make of this change. Nor did she know how to act in the face of it.

“You are beautiful,” he blurted out, then took a deep breath. “Truly.”

“Thank you.” It almost came out as a question because she still could not fathom what reason he had to be nervous.

Gently, as though she might break, he took her hand, engulfing it in his big, warm one. “Come for a ride with me?”

A flush of pleasure washed through her. “Up? In the air?”

He grinned, that brilliant, glorious grin that made her knees weak every time she saw it. “That is the idea.” He tugged her forward.

Excitement mounted as Mary climbed the ladder into the dirigible’s cabin. Smelling of polished wood and motor oil, the cabin gleamed in the sunlight. It was an open space with large windows on three sides. A group of armchairs had been bolted to either side of the cabin floor, each chair facing a window. To the fore, a wall cut the pilot’s booth off from the main cabin, and the door to it lay closed.

“Do you know how to pilot this thing?” she asked Jack, who stepped in beside her.

“No need to.” Jack reached out and grabbed a brass cone that came out of the wall. He spun a small lever next to it, and the air crackled with sound. “All set back here, Charlie,” he said into the cone.

Before she could question, a great shudder ran through the craft as the engines roared to life. The cabin vibrated, and Mary took a step nearer to Jack. Laughing softly, he cradled her close and drew her to the window. “Look,” he whispered. Below, Inspector Lane was now at the control box. He fiddled with the dials and knobs, and a loud clattering followed.

Mary and Jack craned their necks to see the massive iron chain dangling from the hangar wall start to move. Far above them the glass-paneled roof pulled back.

Jack’s lips grazed her ear. “Off we go.”

The craft lurched, and Jack braced them. Mary’s insides dipped. She clutched Jack tighter and looked out.

“Scared?” he whispered, a note of concern in his eyes.

“No.” Mary grinned. “Thrilled.”

They laughed together as the airship rose, up, up, up. London seemed to sink away, falling farther and farther below. A lovely illusion. And beneath her feet, the wondrous ship swayed and surged, a thrilling combination of power and buoyancy.