The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie

Ainsley gave Daniel a little frown. “I was worried about you, Danny. I heard you were done over by louts and left in the gutter. But you never said a word.” Ainsley touched Daniel’s cheek where the bruises were still fading, covered by new ones from the rough balloon landing. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing interesting. Uncle Ian peached on me, did he?”

“Ian?” Ainsley’s eyes widened. “You don’t believe I could pry anything from Ian Mackenzie he didn’t want me to know, do you? No, I pried it out of Beth. She’s worried about you as well.”

“And she told you I’d gone to Marseille,” Daniel said guardedly, while Gavina watched from the safety of Daniel’s arms. It was midnight, and the girl didn’t look tired at all.

“Beth didn’t know why,” Ainsley said. “Are you in another scrape?”

Daniel couldn’t help his laugh. “I haven’t been in a scrape since university. I gave them up. My friend Richard Mason is here, and I’ve been spending some hours with him.” Not a lie.

“Ah yes, the young man you’re worried is wasting away in debauchery. I have no doubt you’ll set him straight. You’re good at that sort of thing. I did hear you went off ballooning and wrecked the thing. Don’t look so surprised. Word travels, especially among the English abroad.” Ainsley gave him a knowing smile. “And I heard a young lady was with you when you crashed. I see she is not with you now. She must have decided being in your company was too fraught with danger.”

“Something like that.”

“Probably for the best.” Ainsley reached for Gavina, and her daughter readily wrapped arms around her. “If a lady cannot keep up with a gentleman she chooses to pursue, she has no business pursuing him. I ought to know. That’s how I ended up with your father.”

Ainsley had proved she definitely could keep up with Cameron, much to Cameron’s surprise. The man who’d shut love out of his life had not been able to shut out Ainsley.

“It’s lucky you’re here,” Ainsley went on. “My friend Leonie is having a grand ball at her house tomorrow evening. We’re attending, and she would love to see you there.”

Daniel stifled a groan. Leonie was the Comtesse de Chenault, who’d become Ainsley’s friend when Ainsley worked for Queen Victoria. She was wealthy, influential, and had a large house outside of Marseille to which the fashionable flocked. “I can guess what for. It’s bad enough Aunt Eleanor and Aunt Isabella are thrusting debutantes at me right and left, but I thought you had more heart. Don’t tell me you’re joining their schemes to get me shackled.”

Ainsley blinked in innocence. “I said nothing about debutantes. Did you hear the word debutante come out of my mouth?”

“But that is who attends grand balls given by comtesses, isn’t it? Debutantes, pushed forward by their mamas with an enthusiasm that’s chilling to see. Why this rush to marry me off? Eleanor’s two boys and Dad stand between me and the ducal throne, and they’re all healthy, thank God.”

“We aren’t thinking about heirs,” Ainsley said, looking indignant. “We want you to be happy, Danny. To be settled.”

“To me, happy and settled are not the same thing. Give me a bit more life first, and tell Isabella and Eleanor to stop throwing insipid eighteen-year-olds at me.”

“Eighteen?” Gavina broke in. “That’s old. You should get married, Danny, and have babies so I can play with them.”

Ainsley gave her daughter an admonishing look and went on, “You know I am the last woman in the world to tell you not to follow your heart. But how do you know you’ll not find a young lady to steal that heart if you never let yourself go near them? You have to try, you know. Will you at least come with us to the ball?”

She met his gaze, something hopeful in her gray eyes. Though Ainsley didn’t condone Eleanor and Isabella coercing Daniel to every soiree, ball, supper party, and boating party rife with eligible young misses, Daniel knew she shared his aunts’ wishes to see him wed. She wanted Daniel to have a happy marriage and children of his own. To begin right, to erase the fact that Daniel’s growing up had been hard on him.

This was important to her, and Ainsley was important to Daniel. She’d made their broken family whole again.

“Aye, very well,” Daniel said, resigned. “I’ll go.”

“Thank you.” Ainsley pulled Daniel into another hug, her arms still full of Gavina, who at last was starting to look a little weary. “Good night, Danny. We’ll see you at breakfast.”

She and Gavina departed, both looking happy, and Daniel closed the door behind them.

He sighed as he stripped off his coat and cravat. He’d told Simon not to wait up for him, so he had the rooms to himself now, as long as Gavina didn’t sneak back in. No saying she wouldn’t pretend to fall asleep in bed and then be right back down here.

Daniel poured himself a large measure of whiskey and wandered into his bedroom, his thoughts mixed.

He’d go to the bloody grand ball and be civil. He wouldn’t marry any of the girls the comtesse shoved at him, but he could be polite.

Daniel knew the ball would not introduce him to a wife, because when he thought about breezing into a home filled with his inventions, dogs, and small children, it was Violet Daniel saw, with startling clarity, lifting her head to give Daniel a welcoming and loving smile.

“Miss,” Mary said, coming into Violet’s darkened room where she lay in bed. “Ain’t ye going to get up, miss?”

“Why?” Violet asked, listless.

She’d been here dozing on and off throughout the afternoon. Her terror at the hands of Lanier, followed by the emotional jolt of seeing Daniel with a lover, had given her another sleepless night. This morning Violet had lapsed into a stupor that was not quite sleep, leaving her groggy and unwilling to rise.

“Your mum’s worried about you,” Mary said. “And we have another job tonight.”

Violet sank further into the pillows, giving in to lethargy. “Why?” she repeated.

“Monsieur Lanier stiffed us most of the fee, didn’t he? Your mum is so tired after last night, and we need coin, you know we do.”

Violet lay still, while sorrow and exhaustion spilled over her. “What job?”

“Fortune-teller for a fashionable party.”

Violet let out a long sigh. That meant Violet dressing up as a Romany and sitting at a table for hours, telling giggling young women they’d marry tall, handsome men and have many prosperous children. Violet had a knack for palm reading, so any call for a traditional fortune-teller was down to her.

Celine didn’t believe in fortune-telling, in any case. She considered palm reading, card reading, or crystal gazing the height of nonsense. The spirits communicate directly through me—when they wish to, she’d say. I can’t call them with cards or by looking at the lines on someone’s hand. They scoff at that.

However, Celine was not averse to Violet earning some coin by her skill. As attached to the spirit world as she was, Celine did have a practical side.

“I can’t,” Violet said, barely able to utter the words. “Mary, I just can’t. I’m so tired.”

“But we need the money, miss.”

“I think we should leave here,” Violet murmured wearily. “Go somewhere we’ve never been before.” Somewhere Daniel and his fashionable friends were not likely to follow. “Canada, perhaps. I’ve heard Montreal is a fine city. We can speak French there.”

Mary shook her head. “You know Madame will never travel that far over the sea.” She came to the bed, straightening and smoothing Violet’s covers. “And our contract at the theatre is until the end of the month. We have to live here at least until then.” Mary, dark haired, plain faced, kind, and practical, always said what needed to be said.

“I know, blast it.”

Violet closed her eyes. She saw again the French countryside unrolling before her under the balloon, heard the sound of wind in the ropes and the hiss of Daniel’s machine, smelled the scent of the sky, and felt the warmth of Daniel beside her.

Life and its petty troubles flowed away behind her. Aloft over the world, she could be Violet, not the fake Princess Ivanova, or Mademoiselle Bastien, or any of the other personas she’d invented in her life.