Sacha looked surprised and touched. "Thank you. I …" He bit his lip again. "Just for a few nights, then."

  "And stay." Andrea was the world's worst, most ungrateful bastard, but he really did think of Sacha as a friend and one of the only people who believed in the work he did. "Stay working for me a little longer. I will raise your salary as of today, and if it is not enough, you come to me. Promise me you will come to me and tell me it needs to be more."

  "I want to continue working here. Having access to the library and being able to do my own research is a dream." Sacha looked as if admitting to it was a crime. "But maybe it's time for me to stop."

  "I am going to get us funding." Andrea's hands clenched into fists. "I am going back to the capital and finding someone to fund us, I swear. You will still be able to work here; you will not need to lay aside your research." Even if I need to lay aside mine. He didn't know if he really meant that quite yet, but he'd do just about anything for the money they needed. "Just give me two weeks, please."

  Still standing on the other side of the desk, Sacha nodded slowly, but his eyes were still filled with doubt.

  *~*~*

  "Ash."

  Andrea looked up from yet another funding proposal as Mathis strode into his office. "Are you doing anything this evening?"

  "No." Andrea blinked at him.

  "Good." Mathis turned towards the door. "Now you're coming with me to a soirée at Lady Toucy's townhouse."

  "Another party? You know I don't like them."

  Mathis looked over his shoulder at Andrea. "Come on, it will be good for you. Besides, it's only a small party."

  "Mathis, no. I need to make arrangements to go back to the University soon."

  "Please." Mathis pouted in a way that made Andrea wonder how Mathis could possibly be older than him. "Only for a few hours, Ash, and then you can come home and hide. It's just not good for the entire court to think of you as basically a hermit."

  "I am basically a hermit."

  "Come now. Do your big brother a favor. I'm going to have to go back to the border soon, and I want to make as good an impression as possible while I'm here, for both of our sakes. Besides, the better you are known at court and court functions, the more likely it becomes that a noble house will want to fund your research."

  "You could fund my research." Andrea didn't try to hide his bitterness, but they'd already had that fight twice since he'd returned from Colline. Also, Mathis made a valid point. As much as he hated it, parties were one of the better ways to drum up interest in his research. "I'll come, but I'm only staying a few hours, you understand?"

  Mathis grinned and saluted before wandering away to start getting ready. "Oh, and wear something besides black. It's a party not a funeral."

  "I don't need you to tell me how to dress." Andrea ran one hand across his face and belatedly realized he had ink smeared across his forehead. Time for a bath then.

  *~*~*

  Lady Toucy's soirées were known as the height of culture within the capital. All the best minds within the intellectual and artistic circles were invited, along with select nobility.

  Andrea had not received an invitation, of course; he wasn't even sure how Mathis had.

  Lady Toucy's townhouse was large and spacious, with high ceilinged rooms sporting large windows, but there were still enough people there for Andrea to feel claustrophobic.

  The main attractions of the evening were the huge gilt cages of mechanical song birds made to carry messages in the little space in their chests. In the dining room there was also a giant engine, a mass of cogs and gears contained in a large frame of wood and gilt metal which ran on a combination of spell craft and electricity. The engine was Lord de Blois' pet project, his pride and joy. Andrea had read the half dozen journal articles he'd written on it already. Although as of yet it did not work well enough to power anything, Lord de Blois was sure it would revolutionize modern transportation.

  Andrea could hear Lord de Blois' piercing and nasal voice the moment he stepped through Lady Toucy's front door and made sure to avoid the room with the engine in it at all costs. If there was one person within the study of mechanical animation's inner circle who would never pass up the opportunity to make cruel remarks at Andrea's expense, it was Lord de Blois.

  He ended up in one of the sitting rooms, standing against one wall, watching a group of ladies speaking and laughing together while taking up both of the settees. Groups of four or five gentlemen stood about the room, speaking with each other, smoking and drinking. Coming from a room to his left, Andrea could hear the tinkle of a harpsichord. He slumped further against the wall and fidgeted with one wide lace cuff peeking out of his dark blue jacket.

  "You promised me a few hours." Mathis appeared at his side, pressing a glass of wine into his hands.

  "And I will stay for that long." Even if it meant he might have to challenge Lord de Blois to a duel before the night was out. Andrea clenched his jaw and straightened his spine.

  "Good." Mathis patted his shoulder and then disappeared into the crowd. Andrea took a gulp of wine.

  Out of the corner of his eyes he caught a glimpse of a tall figure in a striking dark brown jacket made out of something suede-like standing out in the sea of silk. Andrea stiffened, hand tightening around his wine glass. Of course he'd known that the Marquis de la Marche would be invited. He had just been praying he'd decided not to come.

  A young man in a dark gold silk jacket, dark hair tied neatly back from his face, grasped the Marquis arm and leaned close, saying something in a low voice. They both laughed and Andrea did his best to try and melt into the wall. Another older gentleman approached the Marquis and the younger man said something to the two of them that made all three laugh.

  Andrea took another gulp of his wine. Good. The longer the Marquis de la Marche was busy with others, the longer it would take him to realize Andrea was there. In fact, it was a very real possibility that they could go the entire evening without the Marquis realizing he was there at all. Andrea emptied his glass in one long gulp and went in search of another one.

  Fighting through the press of bodies, Andrea made it into the library with the harpsichord and servants offering drinks. He took another glass of wine. The library was even more crowded than the sitting room had been, so Andrea headed back the way he had come.

  He wedged himself against one of the windows and sipped his wine. After a minute, he felt eyes on him and turned his head a little to see the Marquis staring at him. Their eyes met and the Marquis turned away with a frown. Andrea's free hand clenched at his side, the other tightening around his wine glass. The Marquis cut through the crowd, out of the room towards the door and Andrea followed him without thinking.

  "Ah, Marquis!"

  Andrea halted when he heard the voice of Lord de Blois coming from where the Marquis was trying to enter the front hall. Sure enough, de Blois' tall, slim figure stood beside the Marquis, very close in fact.

  "I had rather hoped you would allow me to demonstrate my engine prototype." Lord de Blois leaned in closer. "But I see you are just leaving. If you would like …" His tone had dropped, and he reached out to grasp the Marquis' arm. He must have drunk quite a lot already. "We could go back to my town house, and I could show you my latest prototype in private." His voice pitched even lower, so now Andrea could barely hear it. "I always have wondered what you have—" his eyes swept up and down the Marquis' form so blatantly no one would have been able to miss his intent, "—or don't have under those clothes."

  Something ugly and far too familiar churned up Andrea's stomach at the sight. He might not have been the prettiest of men, but he was physically small, and for some, that had been enough. His hands clenched into fists again, his anger almost enough to propel him out into the hall.

  The Marquis' own hand wrapped around Lord de Blois' wrist so tightly Andrea could almost see the bruises as they bloomed on Lord de Blois' pale skin. Lord de Blois let out a squeak of pain, eyes going big with sudden fear.

  "Remove your hand." The Marquis' expression was cold and hard, almost brittle. His tone was low and with a dangerous edge Andrea had never heard before and hoped never to hear directed at him. "Do not underestimate me, Lord de Blois, I can be quite the obstacle to your continued enjoyment of both the funds and prestige you now have. Remember that and never touch my person so familiarly again."

  Lord de Blois fled as soon as the Marquis let go of his wrist, and the Marquis stalked further into the hall to collect his walking stick and hat.

  "Marquis de la Marche." Andrea also stepped into the front, all more on instinct than anything else since this was surely the worst time to speak with him.

  "I have nothing to say to you, Lord Ashcroft." The Marquis didn't turn around.

  "I agreed to meet with you because my brother asked me to, but I had my own reasons to want to speak with you as well." Andrea stared at his back and wished he'd turn around. "The conversation we had about the telescope, I enjoyed that. I'm not ready to just give in and pretend I'm all right with the way things are, but I don't want to fight with you, either." That had not been the apology he had constructed in his head but he found he was not sorry he'd said it.

  The Marquis turned, finally looking at him. "I won't be used, and I won't let my sister be used either. I will have nothing to do both professionally or socially with those who think otherwise."

  Andrea's mind flashed back to Lord de Blois' odious advances. "Neither my brother nor I am trying to take advantage of you or your sister."

  "Your bother wishes to marry my sister simply because of her title." The Marquis' jaw was tight with anger, although it was not the same coldness he'd used on Lord de Blois.

  "Of course he does, we are nobles."

  With a shake of his head, the Marquis turned away again, not even bothering to answer.

  "My brother is very fond of your sister, and she seems to like him just fine." Andrea just kept talking, half expecting the Marquis to walk out the front door while he babbled. "But in the end, their marriages, whether to each other or someone else, will be for political gain, and in that way, not completely sincere or without agenda. Because that is the way marriages between houses such as ours always are. It is practically inevitable. My brother has always known his marriage will be for political gain on both sides."

  The Marquis had not turned to face him, but he wasn't moving either.

  Andrea crossed his arms over his chest. "As I'm sure your marriage will be as well."

  The Marquis laughed at that, but without much actual joy. "I don't plan on marrying, and in truth, there are very few who would have me, I think."

  Andrea very much doubted that was actually true. "Then, that your sister does marry and who will be even more important."

  The Marquis spun then to face Andrea and advanced on him. Startled, Andrea backed up until his back touched the wall.

  "Is there a reason," the Marquis ground out, now so close their chests almost touched, "that you keep talking about my sister?"

  "I dislike this romantic nature of yours." Andrea brought one hand up to press against the Marquis’ chest, trying to push him away with little to no affect. "You make public statements about how backwards other disciplines are and then appear surprised when people take offense or careers other than yours suffer. You speak as if my brother were attempting to besmirch your sister's honor for doing exactly what every noble family does, and then refuse to admit that all marriages amongst nobles are for profit and power, not affection." He finally managed to push the Marquis back enough for him to slip out between the Marquis' body and the wall.

  "Is it such a crime to you that I would like to see things change and become different? To see new fields of study arise and maybe want better for my sister than what her peers have to settle for?" The Marquis straightened one of his lace cuffs.

  They stared at each other in the hallway of Lady Toucy's house with the sounds of the party filtering out from the rooms behind them.

  "It isn't a crime." Andrea said finally, rubbing one hand across his eyes. "And like I said, my brother is genuinely fond of your sister. I just think—never mind." He turned away, back to where the party was still taking place. He hadn't intended to start another fight. He'd wanted to make things between them better not worse.

  "Lord Ashcroft." The Marquis' voice stopped him. "I …" He sighed. "Would you like to come by the estate tomorrow and we can try again for both our siblings' sakes?"

  Andrea paused and then nodded. "Send a card around to my townhouse and I will be there."

  Behind him, the door opened and shut without a reply.

  *~*~*

  The carriage jostled side to side along the unpaved road that led to the de la Marche estate, and Andrea stared out the window, feeling moody. It was early in the morning; he'd had to leave while the sky was still more grey than blue. Most likely because the Marquis wanted to have their conversation before he had to attend to his other business. It suited Andrea just fine. He had other things he needed to attend to as well, preparations for leaving the city.

  The Marquis' card with the details of their intended meeting had come via message bird. The tiny mechanical creature could only fly to a location with a spell craft beacon, but Mathis, damn him, had installed one in their townhouse.

  The bird, which he had turned off and now laid quietly on the carriage seat next to him, was beautiful, really. Not the gaudy gilt and bejeweled things Andrea had seen at parties and around court. Its outer body was made out of silver and wood, carved to look like a real bird with wings made out of hundreds of tiny silver feathers as well as a silver beak and silver feet. Its carved wooden body contained a complex network of tiny silver gears, along with a hollow space in its chest for the Marquis' message. Looking over at it, Andrea ran the tip of one finger across its now folded wings, wondering if the Marquis had made this one himself. He probably had. He'd invented the tiny birds after all.

  Andrea rubbed one hand across his forehead. He was still not sure what he would do when he got to the house and talked with the Marquis face to face. On the one hand, he'd meant what he’d said. He was sick of the fighting. If those championing mechanical animation continued to attack disciplines like his then yes, he would fight, but he didn't want to argue with the Marquis any more. He was tired of all of it actually, all the arguing and the fighting. When he'd started out he had simply wanted to study what he loved. It had been only after watching mechanical animations rise to dominance, watching the way they took money from others and attacked other disciplines through their publications that Andrea had resolved to fight. Just because what Andrea loved flew directly in the face of mechanical animation's party line, as it were, he would not be bullied or cowed.

  Still, their academic differences aside, the Marquis' assertion that his sister would be settling for less with Mathis stung. Andrea had his own issues with Mathis—they were very different and rarely saw eye to eye—but Mathis was a good man, an honorable man. He had been a dutiful son and a good soldier where Andrea himself had not. He would treat Amélie with kindness and respect. Was it a love match? No. Just the same, Amélie could do much worse than Andrea's brother.

  The carriage jolted again, causing Andrea to smack his forehead against the window set into the carriage door. "Damn it." He rubbed the spot on his forehead with one free hand, hoping he wasn't going to have a bruise. He reached out the other hand without thinking, to make sure the tiny bird did not slide off the seat and break.

  The carriage stopped in front of the huge estate house, the driver jumping down to open the door for Andrea.

  "Lord Ashcroft." A man in a smart dark jacket, waistcoat and breeches met him at the foot of the marble steps that led up to the front door of the estate house and bowed low. "The Marquis de la Marche is around back, practicing on the lawn. He said you should join him there."

  "Fine." Andrea waved the hand he wasn't now cupping the little bird in. The man led the way down a well-maintained gravel path, around the west wing of the house and towards the back. Andrea could not be sure, but he thought they were heading in the direction of the observatory, and his stomach flipped. He was not sure he wanted to have this conversation, or any other, with the Marquis there now.

  He spotted the figure on the grass though as they came around the house. The Marquis had stripped off his jacket and waistcoat, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, his hair coming undone from where he'd tried to tie it back at the nape. He held a rapier in his gloved right hand and seemed to be practicing forms. At least he was practicing footwork, Andrea thought, watching him advance across the grass, holding his body low to lunge at any moment. The rapier was a large, heavy weapon. Andrea himself preferred the small sword, a gentleman's weapon.

  "Lord Ashcroft," the servant who had brought Andrea around announced when they were a few feet away, still standing on the gravel path that lead around the house. The Marquis did not pause or look over at them, and the servant bowed to Andrea and left, going back into the house through the glass doors Andrea remembered being thrown open during the party.

  The sunlight was just now changing from the pale light of early morning to a richer, brighter gold. It would be a nice day. Andrea stared at the grass in front of him, just off the little path he was standing on so that he wouldn't watch the way stray curls stuck to the curve of the Marquis' throat as he moved. The entire lawn was perfectly cared for, rich and green, with dew clinging to the blades.

  Andrea frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "You shouldn't be fencing on the grass if it's still wet. That's a good way to kill yourself."

  A few paces off, the Marquis stopped, straightened arm falling to his side and sighed. "Good morning to you as well, Lord Ashcroft." His voice held a note of wry good humor more than annoyance.

  He turned towards Andrea finally and brought the hilt of his rapier to his lips in a salute.

  "Good morning." Andrea felt a pang of guilt for not greeting him properly first. He looked around, spotting a bench not far off on which the Marquis had folded his jacket and waistcoat. The Marquis walked over to it and Andrea followed, watching as he wrestled back on his waistcoat before sitting on the bench, jacket in his lap.

 

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