Free The Earl of Brass (The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Book 1) by Kara Jorgensen

my own without having to put on airs just to impress her.”
    “If Mother let you find someone on your own, you would probably bring home a maharaja’s daughter like Sir Joshua’s father.”
    “At this point, I wouldn’t care whom he brought home as long as he stayed home,” his father retorted as they retired to the drawing room.
    Eilian positioned himself near the fire, letting his mind drift in its mesmeric light. An all too familiar pain burned as it travelled down his arm, growing exponentially warmer as he attempted to focus on Constance’s detailed account of her and Dylan’s trip to Bath. The pain swelled and bloomed in his elbow before rising up again like bolts of lightning. Every time I wear this arm, my nerves act up , he thought as she chattered on about the unsightly Roman ruins that should have been torn down to make room for more teashops and millineries. He stared at his feet, swallowing down the pain as beads of perspiration dampened his forehead and back. Grabbing his amputated arm, he squeezed the muscle, but the pain refused to relinquish its hold.
    “Dylan, have you told your brother how well he looks?” Millicent Sorrell asked as one of the plain-faced servants handed her a teacup and saucer.
    He turned to Eilian blankly, but his light eyes widened upon seeing his brother nearly doubled over. “You— Are you all right?”
    Upon seeing her son’s clenched features and bowed head, his mother rushed over to his side, but he raised his hand to stop her from touching him. “Dear, what is the matter? Should we call Dr. Hawthorne?”
    He shook his head and slowly straightened to his full height with a sharp intake of breath. “It’s a side effect of the amputation. My nerves act up, especially when I wear this thing.” He gestured to the prosthetic arm. “It will pass, but, Mother, must I wear it tomorrow? I would be so much more comfortable without it.”
    “I know you don’t like it, but I still insist that you wear it. It’s so life-like and you spent so much on it that it would be a shame not to wear it, and I fear without it, our guests may be troubled by… your condition. I didn’t even notice you had it on during dinner. It made you look like your old self.” She smiled warmly and lightly patted his shoulder. “Maybe you should turn in early tonight, dear. Rest is always good for nerves.”
    Eilian stared into his mother’s soft features before turning to the others, but none of them could see the hurt permeating every fiber of his body. To them, they were simply doing what was best for everyone whether it harmed him or not. Under his breath, he bid them good night and hurried off to his room where he would finally be left alone.
     
    ***
     
    Patrick discreetly slipped from the servants’ hall and traced his way through the familiar hallways until he reached Eilian’s room. The footman who had served the Sorrells tea and after-dinner refreshments had told him that his master had gone to bed. Because the bell in his room was never pulled, he had no idea his boss had ever left the drawing room. Eilian Sorrell was rather self-sufficient, but usually at night, he at least had him hang up his clothing. He lightly knocked before opening the door in case he was asleep. His jacket, vest, and shirt were slung over the chair in the corner, but Eilian was sitting on his bed, staring out the window with his prosthesis half-dangling from what remained of his arm.
    “Sir, do you need any help getting dressed for bed? You didn’t ring for me.” As he watched his master’s body stiffly twitch and then relax, he knew something was amiss. “Sir, are you all right?”
    He turned to his butler with smoke and ember eyes as he wiped the heel of his hand across his cheek. “My mother thinks I’m repulsive now. She acts like my arm is some sort of sideshow spectacle.”
    “I’m sure she didn’t mean it that way.”
    “She said her guests would be disturbed if I dared to not wear this