Free The Clockwork Wolf by Lynn Viehl Page B

up your valuable time and return to my own labors.”
    â€œOh, please, not just yet.” His cheeks pinked as he added, “Forgive me, I dislike imposing on you, but would it be terribly inconvenient to ask for your opinion on a matter of feminine taste?”
    â€œI am the least feminine woman I know,” I admitted, “but I certainly have more opinions than New Parliament. Please, ask.”
    â€œIt is only this.” Fourth opened his desk drawer, from which he removed a small white velvet-flocked box. He held it as if he expected it to explode. “I intend to ask Mr. Skolnick for permission to marry Maritza.” His hand trembled as he held out the box. “This is what I shall be offering my beloved. Unless you think it hideous.”
    I took it and removed the lid to reveal the contents.
    â€œI know it is not especially grand,” Fourth said quickly, “but I rather liked it.”
    I held up the thin filigree engagement ring. The dainty thing sported five small citrines and a garnet fashioned into the shape of a bloom.
    â€œWhy do you choose a daisy?” I asked, looking up at him.
    He went red. “Maritza is always picking them when we take a turn in the park. She has never said, but I think it her favorite Torian flower.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I would give her diamonds and rubies, but such are beyond my means. Is it too humble, do you think?”
    â€œOn the contrary, sir. I think it the most lovely and thoughtful engagement ring I have ever beheld.” Carefully I returned it to its case and handed it back to him. “I also predict that Miss Skolnick will be offering much in the way of gratitude to the luckiest of her stars. Just after she says yes.”
    He beamed. “Oh, you are very good, and surely the best of friends, Miss Kittredge.” He seized my hand and tried to shake it off my arm.
    As soon as I could politely extract myself I said, “I must get on with my business at hand. I meant to ask, did you see Mr. Docket this morning?”
    Sorrow replaced his joy. “Mr. Billson from Talbot’s Shipping on two told me that he’d seen the poor old gent last night at hospital, when he went there to visit his brother. From what he described I fear Mr. Docket is very ill.”
    â€œHospital.” My throat tightened and I hurried out, turning round and dashing back in to ask, “Did Mr. Talbot say which hospital he visited, Mr. Gremley?”
    â€œI believe it was Saint Albert’s on the North.”
    I gave him my thanks and ran out to the street, where there were no carri-cabs in sight. Going on foot was out of the question; Saint Albert’s on the North lay on the other side of the city, at least twenty miles away.
    An only too-familiar gray coach stopped at the curb in front of me, and the door with Dredmore’s spike-and-fist crest swung open. At the same time a carri trundled to a stop just behind it, and Doyle peered round the back of the coach at me.
    Here then were my prospects of immediate transportation; I had only to decide if I wanted to go with the assassin or the copper.
    I spotted a trolley coming to a stop on the other side of the street and darted between the two. “Another time, Inspector,” I called back to Doyle. I glanced over at Dredmore’s coach, shrugged, and ran to board the trolley.
    I paid the fare for two transfer exchanges and a return before I went to the back and sat in a rear-facer so I could watch the back. I didn’t think Tommy would follow me crosstown, but Dredmore might. Once the coast was clear I heard the sound of huffing on my left and glanced at the pudgy clerk occupying the other half of the seat. “Afternoon.”
    He sniffed and turned his face away, watching the buildings we passed with a permanent glower of disapproval.
    The older man seated across from us lowered the top half of the newspaper he was reading. “You should have a maid with