It took me nearly half an hour to wake Papa and explain what had happened. By the time he’d stopped patting me on the head and vaguely calling me a “good fellow” and I’d persuaded him to send an automatic servant with a message to the local magistrate, I could have sworn the first glow of morning was seeping into the sky. I hadn’t even had the chance to get my Thrilling Martian Tales back off Putty. I went to bed anyway. It didn’t last long.
Before I realized it, Mama was calling through my door. “Edward! Where are you, child? It’s almost dawn!”
“But not quite,” I mumbled into my pillow.
If I could have asked for one thing above all else, it would have been an extra hour or two of sleep to make up for what I’d lost. Well, that and another uninterrupted hour in bed with my copy of Thrilling Martian Tales, finally, finally finding out what had happened to poor old Captain Masters since I’d left him hanging there on the mountainside.
And a cup of really strong tea.
Some hope.
Today was Mama’s garden party. It might not start until midday, but Mama wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Even with hired laborers and the automatic servants hard at work, no one was staying in bed.
During the night, my muscles had seized up. I felt my face with my fingertips. My jaw was sore and so was one of my cheeks, but I couldn’t feel any swelling. With luck, the bruises wouldn’t show. I rolled out of bed with a whimper and pulled on my clothes. The worst part was my ribs. They were tender to the touch, and when I fastened my waistcoat, I had to grit my teeth against the pain.
I wiped my face with a wet flannel, tried to untangle my hair, then gave up.
The automatic servants were already preparing breakfast and carrying trays of food out to the lawn when I got downstairs. Maybe it was just me, but I thought the sun looked tired this morning.
The entrance hall was filled with flowers from Jane’s hopeful suitors, as usual. The smell was overbearing. I covered my nose and mouth and hurried toward the breakfast room.
“Edward!”
Papa was approaching from the back of the house, his face creased in worry. He didn’t look like he’d slept since I’d woken him. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him about the intruders after all.
“What if they come back?” He ran his hands through his thick gray hair. “They are after my water abacus. I knew this would happen!”
“That’s why you called for the magistrate,” I said. “I’m sure he’s sending guards.”
It had been the only way to protect the family. Putty and I wouldn’t be so lucky against the intruders again.
“Guards? Yes, of course. But there’s something even more important.”
“There is?” I eyed him suspiciously. This wasn’t good.
“We shall have to cancel the garden party.”
I blinked. That bang on the head last night must have scrambled my brains, because I was sure he’d said we should cancel the party. I peered at him. “Did you say cancel it?”
He nodded. “We can’t possibly allow strangers on the grounds. Not now.”
“Cancel it,” I said again. Mama had been planning it all year. She had almost bankrupted us with it. Olivia had been in tears over the household accounts, trying to make it all add up.
Papa looked shifty. “Yes. So, perhaps you’d be good enough to inform your mother, while I, er, inspect the workshop.” He backed away. “There’s a good lad.”
I stared after him. Break the news to Mama? Did he think I was mad?
Perhaps I could persuade Putty to tell her for me.
I had just started up the stairs to look for Putty when the door knocker sounded, twice. The sound echoed through the house. I froze with my foot in the air. On the landing above, the noise of Mama and my sisters abruptly ceased. The sun had hardly risen, and someone was knocking on the front door. No respectable visitor would dream of calling this early.
The ro-butler trundled past me.
I heard the door open, and saw the spill of light down the corridor from the entrance hall, and the long shadows cast across the floor by the ro-butler and the visitor. Footsteps sounded as the ro-butler showed the visitor into the drawing room. A second later, the ro-butler emerged.
“Sir Titus Dane,” he announced in his echoey voice.
There was a gasp from the landing above, and everything erupted into chaos. Feet rushed about, Mama issued commands, and then all three of my sisters cascaded down the stairs, drawn into Mama’s wake. Mama looked flushed and wild-eyed, and Jane was almost swaying with excitement. Putty trailed behind. There was no sign of Cousin Freddie.
The whole torrent of excitement washed around me, and I was caught up by them.
Mama cast me a glance. “Straighten your cravat, Edward,” she commanded. “And my goodness, what has happened to your hair? Oh dear, this is a disaster! Why could he not have let us know he was coming? We are all in such a state.”
As far as I could tell, we were all dressed much as normal—except Putty, of course, and Putty was never dressed normally. What else could any visitor expect this early? He was lucky we weren’t all in our nightclothes.
Papa had vanished into his workshop—sometimes Papa was far cleverer than me—but Mama didn’t seem to notice. She swept toward the drawing room, only pausing to pinch her cheeks, to add an unnecessary hint of color to her skin.
The visitor was much taller than Papa or Freddie. He had great, broad shoulders, big hands, and wavy hair that was starting to turn gray. He’d been sitting by the fireplace, but he stood as we entered, and bowed smoothly. Mama, Jane, and Olivia curtseyed in response. Putty bowed, just as I did, and I tried not to roll my eyes.
“Sir Titus,” Mama said. “You do us an immense honor. It’s been such a long time.”
Sir Titus smiled. “Far too long, madam.” His voice was deep.
Mama looked on the point of fainting. “May I introduce my children, Sir Titus? Jane, my oldest, Olivia, Edward, and”—she threw a despairing glance at Putty—“Parthenia.”
“Delighted,” Sir Titus said, and swept us all with his gaze. There was something I didn’t like about his look. He seemed to be laughing at us. Jane and Mama didn’t seem to share my opinion, though. Both almost swooned.
Mama, Jane, and Olivia seated themselves on a chaise longue opposite Sir Titus. Sir Titus lowered himself elegantly onto his chair, and Putty and I sat together.
“I had hoped,” Sir Titus said, “to make the acquaintance of your husband, madam. Mr. Sullivan’s fame has spread across all of Mars, and Earth besides. His inventions have changed the face of our worlds. Is he at home?”
“At work,” Mama lied smoothly. “His business has detained him, I fear. He is a very busy man.”
Well, he was certainly busy, but I couldn’t imagine he’d be thinking about the part of the business that actually made him any money. Right now, he’d be in the depths of his water abacus, oblivious to anything except its pipes and switches and dials.
“A shame,” Sir Titus said with a quick smile. “It would have been an honor to tell people that I had met the famous Mr. Sullivan.”
“Oh, but not so famous as the legendary Sir Titus Dane!” Jane blurted, then blushed.
“I’ve never even heard of Sir Titus Dane,” Putty muttered beside me. I hushed her, although I had never heard of him, either.
Sir Titus’s eyes tightened.
“It’s been such a long time since we had word of you, Sir Titus,” Mama said. “Ten years, at least, although it feels longer.”
Sir Titus bowed his head slightly. “My business has been most unremarkable, and I have not been on Mars in that time, I fear. I have had tedious matters on Earth to occupy my time. My father’s business too often takes me away from where I would most like to be, as you must know, Mrs. Sullivan.”
“Oh, yes,” Mama sighed. She turned to the rest of us. “I knew Sir Titus as a girl in Tharsis City, you see. He once promised to take me to Paris and Vienna. He was a very ardent admirer of mine, were you not, Sir Titus?”
“And still am, madam.”
Mama blushed. “Sadly, Sir Titus was forced to travel away from Tharsis on his father’s business, and we did not see each other again after that time. If he had not been so forced, I dare to think … Well.” She let out a breathless laugh, as brittle as crystal. “That was a long time ago.”
“And a source of many regrets, also,” Sir Titus said.
Olivia lifted her handkerchief and gave a little cough. Olivia was the most proper person I’d ever met, and this was her equivalent of laughing out loud and pointing a finger at him. I agreed with her. Sir Titus was one of those admirers, the ones who’d fled the moment they found out Mama’s father had gambled away his fortune and her dowry with it. Sir Titus’s father’s business sounded like a convenient excuse.
“Well.” Mama cleared her throat. “You are returned to us now. I trust you will stay for our garden party this afternoon? It wouldn’t be the same without you. The famous Sir Titus Dane. What an honor that would be. We would be the envy of the neighborhood.”
“Oh, do stay,” Jane cooed, and turned her wide falling-in-love eyes upon him, even though Sir Titus must have been as old as Papa. “I would adore hearing of your adventures, sir.”
“I fear not,” Sir Titus said, “although it is with many regrets. I have already intruded enough, arriving like this without word. But my business carries me to Mars so infrequently that, when I found myself in the area, I could not resist the temptation of taking a slight diversion to pay my respects to one of my dearest friends—”
“Sir Titus!” Mama giggled, sounding like Jane at her most infatuated.
“However, I have appointments to keep tomorrow, to the north of here, that may detain me for several weeks, and I cannot honorably postpone them. It is enough that I have been able to … satisfy my curiosity, renew a dear acquaintance, and”—here he looked directly at Jane—“make new, equally delightful, acquaintances.” He paused and raised a finger to his lips, his brow furrowing. “Although.” He smiled. “It does now occur to me. It may be that I can charter a private airship to carry me north. If so, I may be able to attend at least part of your party.”
“Oh, yes!” Mama and Jane fluttered together.
“Sir Titus, you do us a great honor,” Mama added. “A great, great honor.”
“Then I shall see what I can do.” He stood, and the rest of us stood with him. “I have trespassed upon your time long enough. If I am able, I shall return at noon. If not, I can but hope that my business in the north will soon be completed and that I may impose upon your hospitality again before I return to Earth.”
* * *
As soon as Sir Titus had taken his leave, Mama said, “Mrs. Adolpho and Mrs. Cartwright must be told that Sir Titus Dane called upon us. As must Lady Ashville. If he is not able to return this afternoon, it will be of the greatest importance. But how to let them know without seeming boastful?”
A frown creased her forehead. Then she noticed the rest of us standing there. “What on Mars are you all standing about for? We have a garden party to prepare, and we have lost too much time. Olivia! See to the automatic servants, then check the tables. They must be suitably positioned in the shade, but not so far that they cannot observe the goings-on and be observed in turn. Oh dear, one just cannot expect the laborers to get it right. And tell the automatic servants to take away breakfast. We have no time for it this morning.”
I stared at her as my stomach growled angrily. Mama ignored me.
“Jane,” she said. “You must get dressed. Together, we shall shine over this party like twin stars in the heavens.”
“Papa has canceled the garden party,” I said.
“Edward! Please do not talk such nonsense. We are too busy.”
I shrugged. Papa couldn’t say I hadn’t tried. If he wanted to attempt to persuade Mama himself, he was more than welcome. If he succeeded, it would be a first.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
Mama looked at me like I was covered in bugs. “Do? You are a young gentleman, Edward! You are not supposed to do anything. Just … try to stay out of everyone’s way.”
Olivia reached out a hand as I pushed my way out of the room. “Edward…”
“I’ll find Freddie,” I said, not meeting her eyes. “We’ll help you with the tables.” I headed for the stairs.
Freddie was in his room, standing at the window, looking onto the front lawn and the drive with his back to the room. I rapped on the door and entered.
“Cousin Freddie,” I said. “There you are. You’ve missed the famous Sir Titus Dane.”
Freddie turned. “So it would appear. What a shame.”
“You saw him leave?” I said.
“What did you think of him?”
It was a peculiar question. “Why?”
“I’m just interested, having missed the great man myself.” He flashed a grin.
I frowned. This didn’t sound like the idiot Freddie I was used to.
“I didn’t like him,” I said. “I didn’t trust him.” I met Freddie’s eyes with a challenge.
He gave a half smile of acknowledgment. “Not many would share your opinion.”
“Mama and Jane certainly didn’t,” I muttered, then wondered if I’d said too much. Cousin Freddie wasn’t actually family. Some things weren’t meant to be shared.
“The question,” Freddie said, “is what did he want?”
“To renew his acquaintance with Mama,” I said. I wasn’t going to pass on any more gossip. “That’s all. It’s not unusual, you know.”
Freddie laughed. “No one has seen nor heard of the great Sir Titus Dane for ten years. This is the man who discovered three dragon tombs in the sands of Lunae Planum. The man who then disappeared in a cloud of rumors that said he had stolen the maps showing the locations of the tombs from other Martian archaeologists. Now, after all this time, he turns up here to visit someone he hasn’t seen for twenty years or more. I don’t think so.”
“Yet you don’t sound surprised to see him,” I said. “In fact, you seem to know rather a lot about him, bearing in mind that you can’t have been more than, what?—ten?—when he disappeared. And why did you work so hard to avoid meeting him?”
Freddie gave a tight smile. “You don’t miss much, do you, Edward? Let’s just say that the great Sir Titus Dane may not have been seen in ten years, but I have seen that man who has just left very recently indeed. He was not calling himself Sir Titus Dane. He was calling himself Professor Westfield.” He leaned back against the window. “He is my tutor at Oxford.”