Cindy Spencer Pape - Steam & Sorcery

Thanks to the FF&P chapter of RWA for helping steampunk romance become a viable genre. To Sarah, Christian, Steven, Steve, Mary Beth, Richard and Anny for their help both in critiques and in keeping my Victoriana straight. To my editor and the powers that be at Carina for encouraging me to mix my love for historical romance with the fun of the paranormal. Finally, of course, to Glenn, who not only listens to me whine but also came up with the idea of the Order, which made the whole book come together.

Mayfair, London, February 1851

We live in an age where people can travel on ships that fly through the air. The sharp rap of an umbrella point on the wooden floor of the carriage punctuated the sentence. Where a machine can calculate the distance between the stars in less time than it takes you to tie your cravat. I fail to comprehend why, in such an otherwise enlightened era, your ridiculously hidebound Order of the Round Table should refuse to admit female Knights.

You answered your own question, aunt, when you said the words ridiculously hidebound. Sir Merrick Hadrian smiled across the coach at his aunt Dorothy, the woman who had more or less raised him since his mothers death when he was six, despite the fact that she was only eight years his senior. This argument was as old and comfortable as his favorite walking boots. I am in complete agreement with you that the Order of the Round Table is a stodgy and backward organization, so arguing with me is pointless.

Then do something about it. There was another thump from the umbrella.

I am merely a foot soldier, aunt. I assure you, my opinion is well known among my superiors. And it was one of the reasons Merrick hadnt advanced into the inner circle of the Knights leadership. Not that he minded. He was still young and hale enough to prefer fieldwork.

Yes, but as those fuddy-duddies die off and retire, you will gain power. I want you to promise me youll work to open the doors. Mathematics, the sciences, engineeringall these professions are slowly proving that women can and do make valid contributions. Law and medicine cannot be far behind.

Merrick idly wondered if Dorothy had a shrine in her room to Ada, Lady Lovelace, whose work with Lord Babbage on his analytical engine had both changed the world technologically, and proven beyond doubt that women were the intellectual equals of men.

You know very well, nephew, I was born with just as much innate ability as some of those striplings we met at the MacKays ball last evening.

In deductive reasoning, as well as in magickal power. It was easy to agree with her as she was right. Sir William MacKay was Merricks friend and mentor, but Merrick hadnt been at all impressed by Sir Williams latest recruits to the Order. Hell, probably even in swordplay.

Dorothy grinned back at him, her brown eyes, a mirror image of his own, lighting in affection. Good lad. She patted him on the cheek as if he wasnt thirty-five years old, just as the carriage rolled to a halt in front of her favorite ladies lending library.

Merrick leapt out of the coach to help her down. Not that she needed it, of course, but manners were still manners, after all. The cold snap theyd been enduring had left small patches of ice on the road, and he made sure his footing was solid before he held out his hand for Dorothy to alight.

Once on the pavement, his aunt leaned up to kiss his cheek. Thank you for the lift, dear. Ill see you at four.

Before Merrick could reply, he heard the sound of scurrying footsteps, then a little shriek just before someone slammed into his shoulder. He let go of his aunt and spun to catch the woman who slipped about in thin-soled boots. A strange jolt ran up from the point where his gloved hand clamped down on her arm, through a threadbare woolen coat. Magick?

Caroline, dear, are you all right? Dorothy moved around Merrick to help right the younger woman. Since Dorothy was tall and sturdily built, the petite, bespectacled blonde was rather dwarfed between Merrick and his aunt.

Im fine, Miss Hadrian, thank you. I was just afraid I was running late. Her breath misted as the girl gasped. Mrs. Wemberly needed me to run some errands on the way here.

Thereby reducing your half-day by an hour or more. Wretched woman. Dorothy shook her head. There ought to be laws about that sort of thing.

Its fine. The voice was sweetly feminine and her face was young and pretty. Behind her silver-rimmed spectacles, her eyes were a vibrant green. The tendril of hair that had escaped from the ugly gray bonnet was fine and golden-blond. The faintest scent of lavender and rose petal soap wafted up from her smooth skin as she looked at him.