His Clockwork Canary

“The vows.”

“Pardon?”

“I don’t practice any one faith.”

He thought about Reverend Karma and his love beads. “Trust me. The ceremony won’t be religious as much as spiritual.”

“Still, we shouldn’t promise things we do not mean.”

To love and cherish? Honor and obey? He didn’t ask which part, because he didn’t want to broach a subject that might veer them off course. In truth, he wasn’t all too keen on pledging his love when, this moment, he wasn’t sure love entered into it. Passion, yes. Gratitude, yes. Affection, yes. Bone-deep love? As in delirious, all- consuming, I’ll-die-if-I-can’t-have-you-forever-and-always love?

Perhaps that notion, that happy illusion, was reserved for the naive. For the very young. He had felt it once—for Mina. But life’s experiences had molded him into a more pragmatic man. He was wary in matters of the heart. Particularly when they pertained to Wilhelmina Goodenough. “I’ll tell the reverend to keep it simple.”

She narrowed her mesmerizing eyes. “I do not wish to be difficult, but I feel compelled, to be fair, to reiterate the obvious. Life with a Freak will not be easy.”

Simon nodded. “In the same spirit of goodwill, might I say, life with a Darcy will not be a walk in the proverbial park.”

She blinked.

“More than thirty years ago, my distant cousin Briscoe Darcy, the Time Voyager, jumped dimensions in his time machine. As you well know, that journey had dire repercussions. Whilst half the world damns Briscoe and any family associated with him, the other half views us, all of us, each and every Darcy, no matter if we ever met the man, as a ticket to . . . something more. Something extraordinary. As if every Darcy ever born possesses the knowledge or the ability to time travel at any moment. As such we are often scrutinized and sometimes hunted. Definitely ill judged.” Simon framed his intended’s lovely face and swept a gentle kiss over her subtly tinted lips. “Let us be curiosities together.”

“You make an intriguing case.”

“I can upon occasion be most persuasive.” If she still balked, he would be forced to play dirty. To threaten her job at the Informer by cutting all ties with her and thereby robbing her of the sensational story she’d been assigned to report. He did not wish to go that course, but he would. He refused to go through life wondering how she fared, worrying about her safety and finances, obsessing on whether she’d fallen prey to another man’s charms. Although he might not love her, dammit to hell, she was in his blood.

She glanced over his shoulder at the flowered archway leading into the Chapel of Love. Rustic and whimsical. “I fear I have overdressed for the occasion. What was I thinking?”

Blessed acquiescence.

Simon smiled. “That you wanted to look like a bride.” He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks. “Although I can’t promise you a storybook wedding, I promise you an unforgettable night.”

She quirked a teasing grin. “I’ll settle for spectacular.”

Kissing her neck, just below her ear, Simon whispered, “Challenge accepted.”

CHAPTER 16

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Willie stared at the simple band Simon had placed on her left ring finger, tears pricking her eyes. How ridiculous. Reverend Karma had kept the ceremony not only temporal but amazingly brief. She’d forgone her timepieces, but she would swear less than two minutes had elapsed between “Welcome” and “Blessings on your union.” If anything, she should feel slighted, not overwhelmed, yet her heart had blossomed so, squeezing against her lungs, she could scarcely breathe.

She glanced up at Simon. “Did I say, ‘I do’?” She could not recall. How woefully insane.

“You did.” His intense gaze sparked in a new and perplexing way. Smiling, he leaned in and brushed a tender kiss across her lips. “Hello, Mrs. Darcy.”

Mrs. Simon Darcy.

Wilhelmina Darcy.

Her senses whirled. What had she done? This would never work out. Although maybe it would. Maybe they could indeed be curiosities together. First and foremost, she needed to find the clockwork propulsion engine and ensure its safety and then she needed to somehow thwart or appease Strangelove. She needed to protect her family. And that family now included Simon. Good God.

Willie gathered her wits as Simon led her to a table where Reverend Karma now stood with a pen and certificate. Whilst waiting for them to sign their names, the hippie preacher man described various amusements to be found upon this skytown, suitable romantic entertainment, unless of course they preferred something more decadent. She barely heard a word. She was too busy trying to properly grasp the pen. Frustration bubbled and she almost wished she’d worn the Thera-Steam-Atic Brace.

But then Simon closed in, wrapping his hand around her forearm and lending support as she managed a signature. His palm burned through the thin lace of her sleeve, ignited her blood, and tripled her determination to overcome this physical setback. After tonight she would work most avidly to strengthen her muscles. She would become wholly self-reliant and this troubling sense of inferiority would forever vanish.

Willie watched as, after signing his own name, Simon thanked Reverend Karma, then pocketed the marriage certificate. A keepsake, a token of their personal commitment, but surely not a legal and binding document. All the same, Willie felt different, transformed. Her mother had been wrong. Simon had not rejected her because of her race. He had embraced her diversity and all the mystery attached. He had made her battle his own.

How extraordinarily courageous. How remarkably rebellious.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Vic and Freak.

A fire stirred within. A flicker of purpose. If every person was afforded one chance to make a significant change for the betterment of this world, perhaps this banned marriage was her unique opportunity. She had never taken a public stand for her race. She had always operated behind false identities and names. Perhaps it was time to fight in the open. Something inside of her snapped and burned and for the first time in her life, Wilhelmina- formerly-Goodenough understood the true meaning of rebel.

“I thought we could dine first, something exotic,” Simon said as he ushered her toward the petal-strewn exit. “Then perhaps you would fancy dancing to outlawed music, or a bit of radical theater, or a starry ride aboard the Ferris wheel.”

“I would fancy a sampling of all of those things.” She would enjoy the tolerance and freedom of Skytown as never before and then she would top off her wedding night with “spectacular.”

Pausing on the threshold, Simon pulled Willie’s tinted spectacles from his inner pocket.

She waved them off, cupped the back of his neck, and pulled him down for a highly inappropriate kiss, given they were not alone. She heard the celebratory tinkling of finger bells and Reverend Karma saying, “Far out.” Willie welcomed the passionate heat, a surge of confidence, and the rebellious spark stoking her blood. Heart pounding, she eased away and met Simon’s curious gaze. “No more hiding.”

He framed her face and scorched her soul with a proud and seductive smile. “Tonight is ours, Mrs. Darcy. Tomorrow, we take on the world.”

•   •   •

Willie could not have imagined a more perfect honeymoon. Dinner, perfect. Dancing, perfect. Everything, perfect.

Perfect because she’d been with Simon.

This night she found it most difficult to separate the girl who’d fallen in love with the college boy from the woman who’d been seduced by the brilliant engineer. She found it most difficult to focus period. Which was why they had not lingered long at any one festivity.