But still, overall, a miracle.
Their part in the ceremony concluded, Silas and Dorothea took a step back, and watched as the trolley was rolled away and the snowmaker began to puff little flakes into the air, adding that sparkling festive touch which marked the end of the formalities and the beginning of the fun.
At least, it was supposed to. But for Silas and Dorothea, it heralded something slightly different.
Another Warden approached Silas and held out his hand. “Welcome back, Lord Ashcombe. It is past time you returned.”
Her jaw dropped, and she stared as Silas slowly nodded, took the offered hand and shook it. “Thank you, Warden Carstairs. But I’m not returning, just escorting the mechanicals.” He glanced at the two machines, as if to remind the man why he was there at all.
“In that case, I beg a moment of your time, as do the other members of the Council. Grant us that, if you would?”
He thought for a moment, then—with a slight smile—he nodded. “For old times’ sake, then, Gwyn.”
“Silas,” Dorothea whispered. “He called you Lord Ashcombe.”
“I know,” he looked at her. “Thea, I have...there are things I should have told you before this...”
“Dorothea.Dorothea, is that you?” The loud cry turned more than a few heads.
A tall man was pushing through the crowds and making his way toward them, with a somewhat fierce look on his face.
Dorothea winced. “Oh, coggleblast it all. My father.”
Silas touched her shoulder briefly. “This entire business...I wish we hadn’t come, Thea. But no matter what happens, I’ll find you. Trust me...I will find you.”
She gulped down her fear. “I know. I’ll find you too, Silas.” She couldn’t hold it back. “I love you.”
He pulled her into his arms, and kissed her, ignoring the surrounding crowd. It was a hurried embrace, but enough to convince her that he would indeed find her. They had matters to settle between themselves.
And she couldn’t wait...
Chapter Sixteen
“Where in the coggleblasted hell have you been, Dorothea?” The Duke of Renslow bore down on his daughter like a runaway steam engine with its throttle stuck on full speed. “You’ve worried your mother sick, girl, do you understand? This behaviour is unforgivable. Completely unforgivable. Can you even begin to comprehend the damage you’ve done to the Renslow name?”
He was about to seize her shoulders and give her a good shake. She recognised the signs and braced herself.
“Renslow, Renslow, wait...” Lady Renslow almost collided with her husband as she ran to his side.
Dorothea blinked. She hadn’t seen her mother move that fast in a good many years.
“Wait? For what, woman? For her to vanish again, go to God knows where with God knows whom...make a disgusting display of herself in public...”
“Renslow,” hissed Lady Renslow. “Ashcombe. Lord Ashcombe.”
“What?” He frowned at his wife. “What about him?”
“She was just kissing him, you idiot.”
“What?”
“What?” Dorothea’s mouth fell open.
A small crowd of onlookers laughed at the exchange and folded their arms in anticipation of more entertainment. They were, however, disappointed, since Lady Renslow hustled both husband and daughter off the platform and down the path to Renslow House.
The snow was starting to glisten everywhere, and Dorothea would rather have stayed to see it, but at this point, she knew only too well that she had no choice but to follow her parents.
She straightened her spine. She’d be coggleblasted if she showed any sort of repentance. And if they’d not learned by now who and what she was? She’d be on the first Trammelbuggy back to the Undercroft.
