A Heartless Design (16 page)

“Did you stay out at your club? I sent a message there.”

“You did? Why?” he asked.

“Because I needed to know where you would be today, dear brother. I thought you might want to know that Mama has been plotting to get you to meet some more eligible ladies.”

He groaned. “That’s the last thing on my mind right now. Can’t she just let me alone?”

“You’d best be gone by noon, unless you want to get snared.”

“I’ll be gone as long as necessary. Tell Mama you have no idea where I am.”

“We hardly ever know where you are. You are not getting ensnared in your old vices, are you?” Adele paused. “I’d hate to see you…regress.”

“You don’t have to worry, Adele.”

“Just be careful,” she warned.

Heeding his sister’s advice, Sebastien kept a low profile, and found his way to the docks at the appointed time. He’d dressed carefully, choosing clothes that suggested he was a gentleman, but which were nondescript enough that he should not be noticed as he walked. His jacket was a fog grey, worn over a simple white shirt and darker pants. Plain black shoes made him look much like any other man, and a black hat gave a measure of anonymity. Not that he expected anyone he knew to be walking the quay. Cordelia had been clever to think of it. But then, she was a clever woman.

He began to stroll toward the end of the quay. Though it was spring, a stiff breeze off the river kept people from being too idle, and the level of activity around him gave him the comfortable feeling of being alone in a crowd.

But he was not alone for long. Two women approached him. The tall one, obviously the subordinate, addressed him first. To a watcher, it would have appeared that she was asking directions, perhaps to a particular ship. But Sebastien heard something quite different.

“Good morning, sir,” she began. “I am given to understand that you will be walking with my lady for a short time.” Her voice was cool and proper, and several classes above where he suspected she came from.

“That’s correct.”

“Then know that I am watching you,” she said simply, the threat in her voice unmistakable.

Before he could respond, the other woman joined them. Cordelia wore her raven hair bound tightly under her wide brimmed hat, protected from both the wind and prying eyes. “That will do, Bond. Lord Thorne and I will walk. Please follow at a distance.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the maid said.

Sebastien offered his arm, which Cordelia took.

“You’re not afraid to be seen walking with a man at the harbor,” he said.

“People see what they expect to see.” She shrugged a bit. “No one here knows our identities. We could be family, or a married couple.”

“So we could,” he agreed, not at all perturbed by the suggestion.  

“I suppose, if we are to trust each other, then we are…friends?”

He gave her a long, considering glance. “I certainly wouldn’t want you for an enemy. So yes, friends.”

“Then please call me Cordelia,” she asked in a rush.

“But only when no one else is around,” he added her unspoken thought.

“It would raise questions if you used my Christian name in the presence of others,” she admitted. “But I should like you to, when you may.”

He nodded, unaccountably flattered by the offer. “Then I will. And will you do the same for me, Cordelia?” He spoke her name slowly, savoring the taste of it.

“Yes, of course,” she said.

“Of course…”

“Sebastien,” she finished. It came out a bit breathily, as if she felt a little bold using his name like that, in the open air.

“That didn’t tax your sensibilities, did it?”

“Less than certain other liberties you have taken,” she said.

“I’m not sorry that I kissed you.”

“I understand why you did it.”

“You do, do you?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “You said last night…you preferred to use methods other than force. Seduction can be as effective a tool as violence to get information. You thought to expose my weakness by appealing to my baser instincts.”

He said, “I thought ladies such as yourself had no base instincts.”

“Apparently, a well-executed kiss can summon them.”

“Oh, really.” He smiled lazily, pleased by her inadvertent confession.

“That wasn’t an invitation,” she said hastily.

“But it sounded so inviting.”

Cordelia looked down, embarrassed by the turn the conversation was taking. “Fortunately, I did not succumb to your ploy.”

“Maybe I just gave up too soon.”

Behind them, Bond coughed loudly.

“Your chaperone has sharp ears,” he noted.

Cordelia turned and gave a look to the maid, who grudgingly slowed down a few paces. “She’s very dedicated.”

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he promised, remembering the maid’s challenge.

“Good. Now, you proved last night that you value my life slightly higher than some others do, like Hayden. I suppose you saved my life, and certainly my reputation.”

“You’re welcome,” he said dryly.

“I thank you. And I will try to trust you. You have questions. Ask me.”

“Let’s start with the plans everyone wants. What are they for, exactly?”

“You don’t know?”

No, he didn’t, but he had no desire to look like an idiot. “I want to hear it from you.”

Cordelia took a deep breath. “They are for a new type of ship called the
Andraste
.”

“Before a few days ago, I’d never heard of it.”

And where exactly did you hear it?
she wondered again. But she said, “Almost no one has. If and when it is built, the
Andraste
will be the first of its kind. My father designed it.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “However, I did choose the name.”

“After the goddess.”

“Yes, a goddess of Britain, who a British-born queen turned to for help and protection during her battle. It seemed appropriate.”

“Why should that name be so fitting? What kind of ship is it?”

Cordelia pointed to a frigate, sweeping her hand in a grand gesture to encompass the whole ship. “That ship is well made. The hull is built to withstand ocean swells and storms. The masts are strong. Yet, as you know, even a perfectly built wooden ship is vulnerable to cannon, or to fire…even lightening in a storm.”

“Yes, of course. But what can a ship be made of, if not wood?”

She said, “Imagine a ship made of steel, strong enough to withstand a blast from a 68-pound gun.”

Sebastien tried, and was immediately horrified by the implications. “Made of steel? How is that even possible?”

Cordelia made a slightly disappointed sound. “Well, it’s not made entirely of steel, of course. Not yet. The
Andraste
would be the first step. The hull is wooden, just like a regular ship. But plates of steel are hammered to that hull, both above and partly below the waterline. The plates are treated to be resistant to salt water, so there’s no worry about rust or corrosion—in theory. And steel is fireproof as well. Thus the ship would be safe from cannon or even a substance like Greek fire.”

“But it would be too heavy to float,” Sebastien protested.

“Yes, the weight is a significant factor. But by balancing the internal volume of the ship against the surface area of the hull, one can determine a safe range of size and weight. The
Andraste
isn’t meant to be a cargo ship. Rather, she would be used for running messages from point to point, or ferrying passengers.”

“Or soldiers.”

“Well, yes,” she admitted. “Though that wasn’t the intent when…my father first designed it.”

“I had been under the impression that it was a weapon of some sort,” said Sebastien, though he knew it was very possible the information had been garbled somehow before the Zodiac got hold of it.

Cordelia shook her head. “My father would be furious if he knew that people were after this design with the intent of making it a weapon, which
is
Hayden’s idea. He mentioned adding guns to it. I don’t know how many he could add, considering the issue of weight.”

“You have to tell me a little more about it. How big is it? How many men could it carry?”

“The prototype is fairly small. It should be capable of carrying about twenty people comfortably, plus the crew, allowing for some excess weight. Obviously, theory is all well and good, but until a working prototype can sail—or steam—through a few successful journeys, we won’t know if all the calculations are correct. Did I mention that the
Andraste
will be propelled by steam as well as sail?”

“You didn’t.”

“Yes,” she noted proudly. “No more fear of getting becalmed. Or losing a sail. The ship will be able to travel without impediments, even through a battle. Of course, improvements will need to be made, following a successful launch…” She trailed off, noticing that Sebastien had stopped walking. “What is it?” she asked, turning to look back at him.

“You know a lot about this,” he noted, watching her narrowly.

Cordelia flushed. “I’ve had to learn, haven’t I? When it became obvious that unscrupulous people were after the plans, it behooved me to know everything about it…everything I could, I mean,” she added hastily.

He nodded, accepting her explanation for now. “Let me ask this. Why didn’t you destroy the plans immediately?” he asked. “You could have burned them.”

She flinched. “I probably should have, but…it would have felt like burning a book.”

Sebastien considered the woman walking beside him. If she were coldly practical, she would have gotten rid of the plans as soon as she realized someone else wanted them. Then he never would have been assigned to get them himself. And he never would have met her. “I understand your reluctance to dispose of something your father created,” he said slowly.

“Do you?” she asked.

“My own father died only a little more than two years ago,” he explained. “And while he never created a thing like the
Andraste
, I would be loathe to get rid of anything he owned that was more valuable than a tiepin.”

Cordelia beamed at him. “You do understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Well, to a point. For instance, my father’s tiepins wouldn’t be much use in a war.”

“No,” she admitted, her worry returning. “So we are back where we started.”

“Maybe not.”

“How so?”

“Last night, Hayden cornered you because he still wanted something. I heard him say something about the remainder
of the papers.”

“You have sharp ears,” she noted.

“Did you have any intention of telling me the whole truth,
friend
?”

“I have not spoken my piece yet.”

“Then do so, Cordelia. The burglars did not get everything.”

She shook her head. “No. They got the designs that relate to the hull. That is, they could build the outer shell of the ship now. But they’re missing an essential component, which is the propeller screw. Without it, the ship would be virtually impossible to sail capably, making it little more than an armored island.”

“Not a bad thing to have,” Sebastien said.

“Perhaps not. But they’re after the whole ship. And you’re right. They won’t stop till they get the rest of the designs in my possession.” Unconsciously, she twisted her hands together.

“So you have something you are both afraid to keep and afraid to destroy. You trust me a little, I hope,” said Sebastien. “Would you allow me to keep the designs safe for you?”

“How do I know that you could?”

“You didn’t ask whether I
would
.”

“No.” Cordelia bit her lip. “For some reason, I do trust you. I spoke to a friend about you. She told me…I heard you served in the army. You were wounded during the War in the Vendée, correct?”

“Slightly.” He waved it off.

“But you understand that war isn’t a game.”

“Lord, yes.” He knew that all too well.

“So you see why my father was reluctant to offer the designs to just anyone. He knew some of his work had military applications.”

“And you also wish to keep those plans from being exploited,” he said, finally feeling as if he was beginning to understand the woman.

“Precisely. I would need some…assurance that the plans were in good hands,” Cordelia said. Then she turned to her maid, who had somehow managed to follow them quite closely again. “Bond, give us a moment alone.”

“Yes, my lady.” The maid reluctantly slowed her pace once more, dropping out of earshot. Cordelia shot her a warning glance before telling Sebastien to continue.

He couldn’t tell Cordelia about the Zodiac. He couldn’t admit that he was an agent, even if he was on her side. But she demanded some kind of guarantee.

“You named the ship
Andraste
,” he began.

“Yes.” She looked at him, expectant.

“A British name, for a British ship…created by a British man,” he went on.

“Yes…”

“So you naturally want it to stay British. Safe, here on this island.”

“Indeed I do.”

He tried to speak as carefully as he could. “I can tell you that I share your concerns. Remember, I too am a British man, who fought for a British king. And I hold a British title. Now I can tell you that I am in a better position than anyone I know to keep
Andraste
safe, here on this island. And I have some powerful friends. Do you understand?”

Cordelia watched him as he spoke, her green eyes all too alert. She saw how precisely he chose his words. She nodded slowly. “I believe so.”

Thorne didn’t want to press the issue of the remaining designs yet, and he still had many questions for Cordelia, more than this simple walk could answer. “Did you think this theft was a possibility? Is that why you separated the plans?”

“I wish I was so forward thinking.” Cordelia shook her head sadly. “It was a matter of luck. The propeller screw necessary to run the ship was successfully completed only last year. Thus, it was never in the same box with the other plans.”

“Who did it? Not your father, obviously.”

She looked away suddenly, her expression closing. “His colleague. Lear.”

“And you know he wouldn’t sell the plans?”

“He is as trustworthy as I am,” she said.

But just how trustworthy was Cordelia? Sebastien dearly wished that he knew. “How do you know you can rely on Lear?”