Free Magnificent Devices [5] A Lady of Resources by Shelley Adina

giving them when they travelled together. Only when the carved, glossy door closed behind her did she take a long breath and sink onto the lower bunk.
    Amber eyes. Tiger eyes.
    —a crack—
    —and then the smoke and the cold—
    Was it a memory? Or a dream?

7
    It would not do to let Mr. Seacombe know he had disturbed her so profoundly—and so irrationally—so Lizzie spent the rest of the evening staying out of his line of sight. As one of the three guests of honor, expected to be in everyone’s sight, this was no easy feat. They were, after all, in the grand salon of Lady Lucy , not in the palace, where she could disappear at will.
    After she had been politely dragged over to the graduation cake and made to help cut it, then hand out pieces, the Lady found her hovering near the orchestra, where she was distracting the euphonium player to the point that his face had reddened far in excess of the strength of his wind.
    “Lizzie, what is the matter? I have been watching you these five minutes and cannot fathom what you are doing. Have you eaten too much cake?”
    She mumbled something and wished herself at the bottom of the count’s lake.
    Under the pretext of rearranging the Alencon lace draped across one puffed sleeve, the Lady spoke softly. “Has something disturbed you, dear? Has one of the gentlemen taken some liberty? If so, you have only to tell me and Lord Dunsmuir will put the fear of Hades into him.”
    “No—yes—oh, Lady, I’ve done something ever so stupid.” Her lip trembled, and the laughing remark hovering on Claire’s tongue immediately dissolved into concern.
    “What is it, dear?”
    “I can’t tell you.” Claire’s only response was the level, expectant gaze that never failed to make you spill your darkest secrets, whether you wanted to or not. “It’s Tigg’s fault,” she finally blurted.
    “Shall I go and ask him?”
    “No!” Then in a quieter tone, she said, “He said I was forgetting where I came from and—”
    “That is hardly fair. Or likely.”
    “—and to prove I wasn’t, I—” Her throat closed and she pulled out the pocket watch just enough for the Lady and no one else to see it.
    Claire’s gloved fingers gently pressed the watch back where it had come from. “Oh, Lizzie. You didn’t.” The Lady’s voice held no censure, only sorrow. And a tremble that only disappointment could put there.
    Lizzie’s heart felt as though it was going to crack in two. “I’m going to put it back, honestly I am, as soon as I figure out how to do it.”
    “Whose is it?”
    “Mr. Seacombe’s.”
    “Oh, dear.”
    Lizzie froze. “Is that bad?”
    “No worse than your pickpocketing anyone else among the Dunsmuirs’ guests and abusing their hospitality so shamefully.”
    If the Lady had struck her, she could not have flinched any more acutely, nor found her shoulders and body curving around the injured portion—her own heart.
    “Unfortunately, Seacombe senior and junior have already left. I expect we shall have an inquiry from them tomorrow as to the lost item. And when we do, you will deliver it to Mr. Seacombe personally.”
    “What will I tell him?” Lizzie whispered.
    “Perhaps you will not have to tell him anything. If you recall a similar situation at the beginning of our acquaintance, the person concerned was only too glad to see her property again, and not too fussy as to how it came about.”
    “Yes, Lady.” Claire had made Lizzie undo her dishonest work then, and she’d tried so hard over the years since to cure herself of this tendency. But it was clear that such defects of character required constant vigilance—and resistance, if not to temptation, then certainly to being teased by her friends.
    “Come, darling. We will make our farewells to the Dunsmuirs and return to the palace.”
    “Oh, no, Lady. I don’t want to spoil your evening.” A glance, a raised eyebrow. “Any more than I have, that is. Please. I’ll give them my thanks and slip back to