Free Shadow of the War Machine (The Secret Order) by Kristin Bailey Page A

use. “That poor man. He must be certain he’s lost his mind.”
    Will shook with his own forbidden laughter. “Good, he’ll fit in with the rest of the servants, then.”
    That did me in. To keep my balance I had to place my hand against a large gear wheel protruding from a half-constructed engine. “Can you imagine the look on Mrs. Pratt’s face when he tells her the coach is gone?”
    “It won’t be half as good as her reaction when she comes to the carriage house and sees the coach right there.” Will took a deep breath and wiped the corners of his eyes. “I don’t envy that poor groom.”
    I did my best impression of the stiff-lipped old housekeeper. “My dear man, do you expect me to believe that a coach could sink through the floor? It’s preposterous. Now get back to your bed.”
    “Uncanny. That’s exactly what she said.”
    I jumped at the third voice in the room and spun on myheel. Peter stood in the gap of a large sliding partition.
    “Peter!” He was still in a nightshirt and dressing gown. His round and youthful face smiled back at me even though his expression was a mix of relief and exasperation.
    “I’m glad you both think this is humorous,” he said. “It’s going to be nearly impossible to get you out of here without suspicion.” He crossed the room to Will and offered his hand. “MacDonald, good to see you again.”
    “I’m sure between the three of us, we’ll think of something,” Will said. They shook hands, and Will patted Peter on the back. “What took you so long?”
    “I swear Mrs. Pratt never sleeps. It’s unnerving. She found me sneaking out to meet you,” Peter said as he walked back to the partition. We joined him and passed through into the part of the workshop I had explored once before.
    “What did you tell her?” Peter wasn’t a very good liar. When he was caught in a lie, it showed all over his face.
    “I didn’t say anything. I started flushing, and Mrs. Pratt thought I was coming down with a fever. She fussed over me for an hour at least. I couldn’t get away. She was brewing me some sort of curative when the groom burst into the kitchen in a panic. That’s how I knew you were down here.” Peter brushed away a veil of hanging webs.
    The workshop looked as if no one had set foot in it since the day I had, a year before. The same mechanical clutter filled the shelves behind a large worktable. And the haunting empty bassinet still sat next to the faded armchair in the corner by the tall bookshelves. Spiderwebs had created a new blanket of chilling lace across the top of the small bed.
    The thin coat of dust from before had turned to a thick gray blanket coating everything. The smudge from where I had accidentally placed my hand remained on the table next to the machine Rathford had used to spy on everyone in his house. The letter from my grandfather that Rathford had left out for me to read was now missing.
    It was disturbing. In some respects Rathford’s workshop seemed as if it had frozen in time exactly as he had wished. In other respects, time had eaten away at the space.
    “Have you been down here at all since you inherited?” I asked Peter.
    “Only once,” he admitted. “To be honest, this place unsettles me.”
    “You should straighten it up and make it yours,” Will suggested.
    “I would, but the only servant I have who is sworn to the Guild is Tibbs, and he doesn’t have the strength left for thiskind of work. I couldn’t ask it of him,” Peter said, drawing his finger through the thick dust on the table. “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”
    “If you need help, let me know. If the ship is down from the Foundry, I can get some of the men together. We can take most of this mess back to the storage vaults under the Academy.” Will fiddled with a knob on the spying machine.
    “I’d appreciate that.” Peter leafed through a pile of drawings and diagrams that had been left on the table. “Now, what are we looking