Unknown

PURPLE. A REASONABLE compromise between somber and celebratory. A deep shade appropriate for a widow, Isa’s dress was trimmed with ruffles and black lace that swept backward into a bustle. Slight puffs of silk capped her shoulders, quickly tapering into tight sleeves that ended at her wrists. The neckline revealed a hint of her clavicle but no cleavage. Demure, yet not dull. A gown fitting for Alec’s promotion ceremony.

She pinned a matching hat with a scattering of feathers to her upswept hair, snatched up a pair of black, lace gloves, and descended the stairs to wait at the window of her townhome. Outside, the Glasgow sky was overcast. A fine mist of water collected upon the window, gathering itself into drops before slipping down the glass in streaming rivulets.

A month had passed since that near disastrous night on the North Sea. The immediate days following the megalodon’s capture and the castle explosions had been a blur.

With the BURR team dismissed from security detail and instead working beneath the aegis of the Queen’s agents, the Royal Marines had no official presence and therefore no right to make demands upon those who staffed the floating castle. Fortunately, the resulting chaos had thrown the castle guards into such a confusion that not one man had questioned the BURR team’s authority as they transported a small company of wounded Finn men and their families to the castle complex’s infirmary.

Nor had the castle physician in charge objected. The appearance of several men and one woman‌—‌herself‌—‌with a number of severed octopus tentacles sprouting from their bodies had rendered him momentarily speechless. But he was a man of science, easily intrigued, and the moment he finished treating assorted minor injuries the guests had sustained during the explosion‌—‌burns from toppling candles, cuts from shattered chandeliers, blows from tumbling potted palms‌—‌he joined Alec and Isa in the surgical suite, his interest captured.

Aron was the Finn in most need of surgical attention, having lost much blood during his struggle with the biomech octopus. She immediately set about prepping him for surgery. Alec struggled to repair the damage done to his leg, commenting that further operations would likely be needed once they returned to Glasgow. With Aron at last stable, they moved on to the next Finn patient, working steadily but quickly, removing tentacle after tentacle before infection could take hold.

Performing vascular surgery was a challenge what with the castle’s floor tilted at a ten-degree angle, making every step feel like a drunken stagger. Alec‌—‌his knee kept numb with a strong, local-acting anesthetic‌—‌propped himself on a stool beside the operating table, avoiding any unnecessary steps. Isa stood at the patient’s head, monitoring oxygen levels of each Finn, taking extreme care with their anesthesia. The castle physician listened and watched carefully‌—‌albeit with wide eyes‌—‌as she explained the finer details of Finn physiology.

Convinced of the Danish physician’s capabilities and reassured by Alec’s oversight, she’d climbed onto the operating table, the final patient.

Her uncle had refused to reveal the full treatment for the caeruleus amoeba. Though his infected leg wound was forcibly submerged in cold saline water and subjected to deep debridement, the organism continued to spread, engulfing his lower leg and creeping proximally up his thigh. Treatment options were under debate when Mr. Black arrived and ordered a swift and conclusive amputation, followed by immediate dirigible evacuation. The former navy commodore was delivered directly to a secure underground cell where he would recover. Or not.

Though Mr. Black’s frown carved deep lines about his mouth when he caught sight of his brother’s knee, Alec refused to accompany him on the dirigible, insisting he would remain with his BURR team while they piloted the captured megalodon submersible back to Glasgow. All Finn‌—‌patients and family‌—‌elected to reboard the submersible for a return trip rather than set foot in a dirigible’s gondola. Including Aron, who insisted he would not survive a dirigible ride in his current condition.

Isa worried for him. Not only had he lost a lot of blood, the octopus’s attempt to wrench free had done some serious tissue damage. Alec too was in agony, his lips white with pain. By the time they reached Glasgow, the drug he’d injected had long since lost its effectiveness. Their care had taken immediate priority upon docking on the River Clyde.

She’d left the organization and care of the Finn in the hands of Avra, who had proven to be a remarkable young woman. “Go,” Avra had said, waving her off. “I’m quite capable of arranging for their transport back to the islands.”

Shrugging away the guilt that tried to wrap itself about her shoulders, she’d followed a grim Dr. Morgan who‌—‌after a long-suffering sigh‌—‌took Alec into surgery immediately. “Before you do any more damage to the bone vasculature. At this point, you’ll be lucky to keep your leg.”

Worry churned a hole in her stomach as she paced outside the operating room for hours. From time to time, a nurse or an orderly would zip in and out of the surgical suite‌—‌muttering about nerve blocks and bolts and gears‌—‌while Dr. Morgan rebuilt Alec’s knee.

“He managed to snap a bolt, slip three gears and rupture two lubricant sacs,” Dr. Morgan announced. “I had to resect another inch of femur.” He fixed Isa with a stare. “Perhaps he’ll listen to you? Try to convince him that he ought to leave the BURR team before he loses a leg.”

Sage advice. But who was she to order Alec about? Time and again she’d been told to abandon her dreams of medical school, yet she persisted. The BURR team meant everything to him, and he knew the risks of returning to active duty.

Time passed and, as yet, neither she nor Alec had broached the topic of marriage. Nor had she caught sight of his grandmother’s pearl ring. Though their torrid affair had certainly continued apace. Her cheeks heated. Not that Alec had neglected to court her. They’d spent hours talking, speaking about anything and everything. Save their futures‌—‌separate or together.

He’d sent flowers, escorted her on long walks quayside, visited with her mother‌—‌where flattery won him every regard‌—‌and spent time with the rest of her extended family along with many other members of the small Finn Glasgow community. Much heated debate surrounded the marriages of Mrs. Drummond, also known as Lady Roideach. Scottish law decreed her actions bigamous, but not all Finn people agreed. Regardless, Maren sat inside a cell, awaiting trial for her misdeeds. Mr. and Mrs. Carr had custody of Thomas and their granddaughter, with Nina and Jona’s supervision.

For her own part, Isa had braved Alec’s mother’s disdain and accepted a grudgingly offered invitation to tea. Mrs. McCullough‌—‌her back stiff with disapproval‌—‌had offered a few comments about the weather. Conversation had been difficult until Cait introduced the topic of pharmacobotany.

Heads bent together in the parlor, they’d sipped tea and discussed journal articles detailing recent discoveries of bioactive substances extracted from unusual plants found growing in the Amazonian rainforest, ones that scientists now struggled to fabricate in laboratories. One substance in particular held much promise. Added to the mix of substances already present in Finn anesthesia, it might completely eliminate the risk of induced dive reflex during surgical procedures. Alas, the compound was experimental and beyond her reach. Much, it seemed, like medical school.

Though it appeared Alec had finally reached a decision concerning his career. Yesterday, a skeet pigeon had landed on her windowsill, pecking at a pane of glass. She’d unfurled a message from him.

You are cordially invited to attend a promotion ceremony. Tomorrow, I become Major McCullough. I’ll send a carriage for you at three o’clock in the afternoon. It’s a formal event. Still, please say you’ll come.

At exactly three o’clock, a familiar carriage drawn by clockwork horses stopped before her townhome. But it was Mr. Black, not Alec, who knocked at her door. She tried hard to suppress her disappointment.

“I requested a few moments alone with you, Mrs. McQuiston,” he said, once they were settled and underway. He reached inside his coat and drew forth an envelope. “The Queen sends her regards.”

With trembling fingers, she opened it. Drew forth the thick, heavy paper within. And read its contents. Mouth agape, she looked up. “You, Mr. Black, are a miracle worker.”

“So it’s been said.” He grinned. “But I find myself compelled to mention that it was Alec who ensured your medical school application was brought to the attention of the Queen. Furthermore, because it was held against you in the past, my brother asked me to make it clear that the offer of enrollment stands, regardless of your marital state.”

She nodded, her chest tight. This was a moment she’d rather hoped to share with Alec, not his brother. “Thank you.”

Mr. Black sighed. “Don’t look so crestfallen, Mrs. McQuiston. I am but the squire, performing a few last official tasks so that your knight might present a final token of his regard.”

Her eyebrows drew together and she peppered him with many questions, but Mr. Black refused to elaborate. Not even‌—‌after weaving their way through the busy streets of Glasgow‌—‌when the carriage stopped before a small building near the Glaister Institute. A single guard snapped to attention, and a fevered memory of passing through its door once before swam to the surface.

Could this be an entrée to the famed Glaister Institute? A tremor of excitement ran through her. Dare she hope she was to be granted access? They descended a spiral staircase, arriving at a broad iron door. A red light glowed steadily in an odd box affixed to the multi-toothed and geared lock.

Heart pounding, she complied. A cool gel oozed out, as if the lock tasted her fingertip. There was a faint buzz of electricity, the light blinked green and the lock popped open.

“Will you be at your brother’s ceremony?” she asked, beginning to wonder if she herself would be in attendance. All too easy to be lost and forgotten in a dusty corridor such as this.

He laughed. “Not a chance. The Royal Navy would prefer to forget I exist. No worries,” he said when she frowned. “I prefer it that way. Alec and I have already toasted to his success.”

With a clang, the door closed behind her. Turning about in amazement, she took in the narrow hall and the high ceilings where various conduits ran in all directions, some emitting steam, some dripping with condensation. Throughout the network of pipes and wires, spiders had spun cobwebs. This was not a heavily trafficked area.

“I did make an effort to dust our laboratory.” Alec stood in a doorway, grinning. He was dressed in all his military splendor. Quite a different image than the one he’d first presented all those weeks ago out on the island.

“Our laboratory?” She lifted an eyebrow, walking closer. Drawing a fingertip across one of the many medals pinned to his chest. “Is this a tryst? Or has something unusual and unexplained turned up on a distant beach?”

Grabbing her about the waist, Alec spun her around into an…‌ airshaft? “All of the above, though I’ve been told selkies are nothing but myth.” He kicked the door shut behind them and stared down at her. “I’ve an inclination to share my underground lair, if you’ll have me.”

“Have you?” She bit her lip, fighting a smile. “In exactly what manner?”

“You do look ravishing.” Grinning, he pulled her close. “But business first. Despite the trauma of earlier weeks, the ingenuity of the science behind the biomech octopus, the megalodon draws me. Interrogation of your uncle, Lady Roideach and Miss Russel has produced an Icelandic name‌—‌albeit an alias‌—‌of the evil genius who succeeded in fusing mechanical components with living organisms. The Queen’s agents are already at work tracking down this scientist. Meanwhile, I wish to study the techniques used to create these biomech creatures, to be involved in any decisions as to the wisdom of applying them.” He paused. “And there is the issue of my mechanical knee. Though I don’t wish to leave my BURR team, I can no longer actively participate in their missions.”

“A joint position both in the Glaister Institute and with my team has been arranged. I may occasionally deploy, but my involvement will be limited to oversight only. Leaving me more time for a wife and, eventually, a family.”

“In a few years. When we’re ready. As suits both our careers.” The corner of his mouth hitched up. “We’ll have plenty of time to work‌—‌and play‌—‌in this laboratory. Together. I’ve arranged for you to have full access to the resources of the Glaister Institute. If you wish to explore the possibilities of newly discovered pharmacobotanicals, we’ll fill out the paperwork‌—‌maybe lean a bit on my brother‌—‌until you have your way.”

Isa tugged off a lace glove and pressed her palm to his freshly shaven face, enjoying the rare sensation. She grinned. “Have my way…‌”

With a laugh, Alec lowered himself onto his good knee and tugged a familiar ring from his pocket. “I love you, Isa, and I don’t want to wait any longer. I’ve given you about as much time to reach a decision as I can bear. Please. Attend my promotion ceremony as my fiancée. Say you’ll marry me.”

Emotions hit her like a tidal wave, strongest among them was love. Marriage wasn’t a risk she’d wanted to take again. Until she’d met Alec. With him at her side, she no longer felt hollow, empty of all but her goals. He offered her everything she’d ever wanted and more. Time to stop doubting herself and her feelings.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’ll marry you…‌ according to the Finn tradition while standing barefoot on the sand.”

He slid the ring onto her finger and stood. “Please tell me there’s no tradition of an extended engagement among the Finn?” He caught her by the waist as he stepped closer. Then closer still, backing her up until her rear bumped into a sturdy‌—‌if old‌—‌wooden desk that stood against the wall.

Did they have time for investigating the thoughts that fueled the bright gleam in Alec’s eyes?

“None.” She swallowed, dropping her gaze to the cravat tied so expertly about his neck. “It’s only a matter of gathering family and enlisting an elder to perform the ceremony.”

“Excellent.” He caught her lips in long, tender kiss. “Now that our future is arranged, perhaps we might explore the benefits of matrimony? I am cleared for desk work.” He lifted her, depositing her on its surface and delving into the froth of ruffles about her ankles without waiting for her answer. He nipped at her earlobe. “And today’s ceremony isn’t for another hour.”

She pushed half-heartedly at his beribboned chest as he spread her knees apart. “I spent half the morning primping. These are my only pair of silk stockings.”

“Oh?” His fingers brushed upward over the surface of her thinly-clad legs until they found the bare skin of her thighs. He nuzzled at her neck, whispering into her ear, “And still you managed to overlook a certain undergarment. Am I meant to think that an accident?”

“I promise not to ruffle a single feather.” Love shown is his eyes and echoed in her heart. “Trust me?”

“I do.” With that she gave herself over to the sheer pleasure of his touch, and the outside world vanished, leaving only the love and heat that sparked to life whenever they were together.