flying machine really comes, that is."
"It will.” He squeezed her hand. “Come down with me now, and I'll undertake to protect you from that ogre waiting for us below."
"He'll shout at me."
"Undoubtedly. But you must be brave, dear. He's been shouting at me all my life, and I'm still quite intact.” He shrugged and grinned. “Physically, at any event."
Merlin sighed. She gathered her nightgown around her legs and launched herself down the slope of the roof. Behind her, Shelby's cry of dismay broke off as she caught the Atlas's ankle and swung neatly around to land on the stone thistle.
Looking back, she saw him close his mouth with a snap. He hesitated and then waved jauntily down at the crowd below just before he matched her move with a slide and a catlike leap. He landed, slipped, and saved himself with one hand on the gilded crown. Cheers and shrieks drifted up from the ground below.
"Heigh-ho!” he cried. “I think I hear a bit of feminine concern for my well-being."
Merlin scrambled down the side of the thistle and walked to the balustrade. “Yes,” she said. “Two of the ladies have covered their eyes."
"Hah.” He jumped wide of the thistle, landing in perfect balance and eliciting another set of cries from below. “I appreciate this, my dear. It should raise my value immensely in certain quarters. I venture to say I'll be rescuing ladies morning and night from up here."
Before she climbed over the balustrade, she looked to see if he was following. He beckoned her back, and she let go of the stone railing and returned to where he stood in the shadow of the thistle.
"Merlin,” he said with soft, sudden emphasis. He took her hand and turned it over, palm up. “Do you keep your promises?"
"Yes,” she said. “Of course I do."
"Promise me one thing then, love. Promise me you won't tell anyone else— anyone —about the speaking box."
"Well—Thaddeus already knows. And Ransom."
"Thaddeus is your gardener?"
Merlin gave him a sheepish smile. “Thaddeus does everything I don't want to do."
"A fine fellow to have around. But you won't tell anyone else?"
"I suppose you mean because the French want to kidnap me?"
He squeezed her hand. “Promise?"
She hesitated and then nodded.
"Good.” He lifted her palm and placed a kiss in the middle of it, then rubbed it flat against his own. “Honor of a gentleman. And a lady. And Merlin"—he looked directly into her eyes—"believe me, I'll find out if you don't keep it. If you think you're in trouble now..."
Merlin bit her lip, a little unnerved by the sudden hardening of his friendly expression. He looked every bit as intimidating at that moment as Ransom had ever done. “All right. I promise."
He smiled, and his face changed like the sky on a windy day—from clouds to sunlight. He gave her a pat and light push toward the balustrade.
The climb down the scaffolding went faster than Merlin had anticipated. Long before she was ready, she found herself on the ground, surrounded by strangers: neatly uniformed servants and men and women in elegant dress. They all stared at her. There was a great deal of tittering and chuckling and speaking behind hands, and Merlin was glad when Shelby took her arm and brushed past them.
She was not so glad when she saw where he was taking her. A few yards apart, Ransom stood unmoving. He looked like one of his statues, marble-white and inhuman. Merlin set her feet and tried to pull away, but Shelby held her fast.
"Pay your accounts, love,” he murmured. “Believe me, I know what comes of putting them off."
She looked up into Ransom's eyes. There was not one trace of reason or understanding them. He made no greeting, spoke no word of reassurance, only grasped her arms and tore her out of Shelby's grasp. “Ransom—” Shelby said in a warning voice, but his brother gave no sign of hearing. When Ransom spoke, his voice was like the whisper of steel in a sheath, so low she could barely hear it.
"Come with me,”
"It will.” He squeezed her hand. “Come down with me now, and I'll undertake to protect you from that ogre waiting for us below."
"He'll shout at me."
"Undoubtedly. But you must be brave, dear. He's been shouting at me all my life, and I'm still quite intact.” He shrugged and grinned. “Physically, at any event."
Merlin sighed. She gathered her nightgown around her legs and launched herself down the slope of the roof. Behind her, Shelby's cry of dismay broke off as she caught the Atlas's ankle and swung neatly around to land on the stone thistle.
Looking back, she saw him close his mouth with a snap. He hesitated and then waved jauntily down at the crowd below just before he matched her move with a slide and a catlike leap. He landed, slipped, and saved himself with one hand on the gilded crown. Cheers and shrieks drifted up from the ground below.
"Heigh-ho!” he cried. “I think I hear a bit of feminine concern for my well-being."
Merlin scrambled down the side of the thistle and walked to the balustrade. “Yes,” she said. “Two of the ladies have covered their eyes."
"Hah.” He jumped wide of the thistle, landing in perfect balance and eliciting another set of cries from below. “I appreciate this, my dear. It should raise my value immensely in certain quarters. I venture to say I'll be rescuing ladies morning and night from up here."
Before she climbed over the balustrade, she looked to see if he was following. He beckoned her back, and she let go of the stone railing and returned to where he stood in the shadow of the thistle.
"Merlin,” he said with soft, sudden emphasis. He took her hand and turned it over, palm up. “Do you keep your promises?"
"Yes,” she said. “Of course I do."
"Promise me one thing then, love. Promise me you won't tell anyone else— anyone —about the speaking box."
"Well—Thaddeus already knows. And Ransom."
"Thaddeus is your gardener?"
Merlin gave him a sheepish smile. “Thaddeus does everything I don't want to do."
"A fine fellow to have around. But you won't tell anyone else?"
"I suppose you mean because the French want to kidnap me?"
He squeezed her hand. “Promise?"
She hesitated and then nodded.
"Good.” He lifted her palm and placed a kiss in the middle of it, then rubbed it flat against his own. “Honor of a gentleman. And a lady. And Merlin"—he looked directly into her eyes—"believe me, I'll find out if you don't keep it. If you think you're in trouble now..."
Merlin bit her lip, a little unnerved by the sudden hardening of his friendly expression. He looked every bit as intimidating at that moment as Ransom had ever done. “All right. I promise."
He smiled, and his face changed like the sky on a windy day—from clouds to sunlight. He gave her a pat and light push toward the balustrade.
The climb down the scaffolding went faster than Merlin had anticipated. Long before she was ready, she found herself on the ground, surrounded by strangers: neatly uniformed servants and men and women in elegant dress. They all stared at her. There was a great deal of tittering and chuckling and speaking behind hands, and Merlin was glad when Shelby took her arm and brushed past them.
She was not so glad when she saw where he was taking her. A few yards apart, Ransom stood unmoving. He looked like one of his statues, marble-white and inhuman. Merlin set her feet and tried to pull away, but Shelby held her fast.
"Pay your accounts, love,” he murmured. “Believe me, I know what comes of putting them off."
She looked up into Ransom's eyes. There was not one trace of reason or understanding them. He made no greeting, spoke no word of reassurance, only grasped her arms and tore her out of Shelby's grasp. “Ransom—” Shelby said in a warning voice, but his brother gave no sign of hearing. When Ransom spoke, his voice was like the whisper of steel in a sheath, so low she could barely hear it.
"Come with me,”
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