Home > The Spiritglass Charade (Stoker & Holmes #2)(39)

The Spiritglass Charade (Stoker & Holmes #2)(39)
Author: Colleen Gleason

“Likewise.” The handsome young man extricated himself from Miss Norton’s grip. He bowed to all of us, but his attention was on Willa the moment he lifted his head.

I was wrong. Mr. Treadwell wasn’t at all torn between the two young women. He obviously preferred Willa Ashton. A quick look at the other young woman’s dark, furious expression was all I needed.

Amanda Norton had shot to the top of my list of suspects, regardless of what Mina Holmes thought.

We joined the group and paid our fare. I’d even remembered to bring money. The entrance to New Vauxhall was through an ornate iron gate. It was flanked by tall shrubs and a stone wall, so that you could see very little of what was beyond until you stepped through. The gate led us into a tunnel-like entrance made of ivy and climbing roses so thick it would have been dark inside without the small lights.

As we walked through, Mina nudged me. “Talk to the cousin. See what you can find out about Willa, and anything else in that house.”

“Me?” The last thing I wanted to do was stay with this staid, boring group. I’d thought to slip off into the shadows the moment the opportunity arose. Dylan would be alone with Mina, which—from the way he’d been gazing at her, I thought he’d appreciate—and I could be on my way. “You’re the detective. You’re the one—”

She shook her head impatiently. “I intend to speak with Mr. Treadwell.” She took my arm and came closer so she could speak without being heard. “And observe Miss Norton and Aunt Geraldine in the meanwhile. You can—erm . . . charm Cousin Herrell. I have no doubt you can inspire him to talk. You’re beautiful and vivacious, and you understand how to flirt and converse with a young man.”

I nearly tripped. Had she just complimented me—or was that a veiled dig? “Very well. But no complaining if I don’t find out what you want to know.”

The timing was perfect, for we were exiting the tunnel of greenery and found ourselves inside New Vauxhall.

“My word.” Miss Ashton turned in a slow circle. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Our entire party had stopped to look around in amazement. I would have done so myself if Mina hadn’t given me a shove toward Willa’s cousin.

Even so, I noticed three moving walkways spiking out from the entrance like spokes on a half-wheel. Lights danced everywhere. They were attached to hundreds of hand-sized hot-air balloons, anchored to trees, posts, buildings, and even the ground. Stone walls, trees, and shrubbery loomed in every direction so you couldn’t see very far down any particular path. Large gateways made of cogs and gears opened and closed to allow groups of people to enter in waves.

The moving walkways were wide enough for three people to stand abreast, and footpaths led into what seemed to be a clockwork fairytale land. Flowers bloomed everywhere, filling the air with a sweet, floral scent and covering up the unpleasant stench of London. Small mechanized butterflies and birds darted about, along with gear-ridden fireflies as big as my thumb. They cast small, colorful glows as they danced in the air.

Signs offered several options for entertainment. One pointed left to animal curiosities. Another to medallion maze & clockwork labyrinth. river stroll & boat park. jungle faire. carousel of the gods. And oligary’s observation cogwheel appeared to be straight ahead.

A faint mist lingered down one of the paths, and down another, tiny winking lights of pink, green, blue, and orange beckoned like little fairies. Mechanical fireflies. I could hear music in the distance . . . and in a different direction, applause and laughter.

“Evaline.” Mina jabbed me in the arm. She was strong for being a mere mortal female.

I refused to give her the satisfaction of rubbing the spot and pasted on my sweetest, most innocent smile.

“I’m so pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Ashton,” I said, boldly offering Willa’s cousin my arm.

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Stoker,” he said, obliging by taking my hand and settling it loosely inside his elbow. “I’m delighted Willa has found some new friends. She became quite a hermit after Robby disappeared.”

Someone in the group, probably Mina, had chosen the path leading to river stroll & boat park. Blast. I’d wanted to see the oligary’s observation cogwheel.

“It’s a terrible thing. She doesn’t want to give up hope that he can be found, but at the same time she must accept whatever it is and go on with life. But I’m certain you’re doing everything you can to help find him.” Blooming fish . . . was that my voice? Syrupy and sweet?

“Indeed I am. I’ve spent nearly an hour every day walking about in Smithfield, asking if anyone has seen the young man. I feel as if it’s my fault.” Mr. Ashton shook his head sadly. “I shouldn’t have—”

“What do you mean?” A spark of interest caught me. If there was a chance Robby was still alive, perhaps his cousin had information that could help.

Mr. Ashton looked down at me as if suddenly remembering he didn’t know me very well.

“My goodness . . . I didn’t realize how tall you are, Mr. Ashton. You must have excellent horsemanship.” I bumped gently into his side as we walked, coming closer to his person than was strictly proper. I smiled beguilingly up at him . . . and the tactic seemed to work, for his smile grew warmer.

“You’re upset about Robby,” I prompted. “What happened?” The sooner I got the information Mina wanted—or at least some information—the sooner I could slip off and have some real fun. If there were any more vampires in London, surely at least some were here tonight.

I had three stakes on my person, along with a knife and a curious old weapon called a mace. It was only the size of a peach pit, studded with small spikes and hanging from a chain the length of my arm, but it could inflict some damage. With the number of people here and the dark walkways, I could only imagine how many pickpockets, thieves, and hopefully UnDead would be taking advantage.

Encountering that sort would be my preferred entertainment here in the gardens.

Mr. Ashton focused on the path ahead of us. “The truth is, I can’t help but feel partially responsible for his disappearance. I used to take him with me to the boxing club. He liked to watch the fights. One night, he wanted to come with me, but I . . . well, that particular night, I had other plans that weren’t appropriate for a boy of eleven. But he was stubborn and insisted on following me nevertheless. He hitched a ride on the back of my carriage! When I discovered he’d done so, I became angry and hailed a cab to take him home. I should have taken him back myself, but I . . . well, I didn’t.”

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