The Iron Duke Read Free Page A

the bracelets didn’t divert the ladies from their real interest. Even as they spoke, they cast surreptitious glances at her mother’s eyes. One lady leaned forward, as if to gain a better angle to see the bracelets—and gained a better angle to see behind her mother’s spectacles. Her mouth fell open.
    Rarely did anyone hide their surprise when they glimpsed the shiny orbs concealed by the lenses. Some stared openly, as if the prosthetic eyes were blind, rather than as keen as a telescope and a microscope combined. This particular lady was no different. She continued to look, her expression a mixture of fascination and revulsion. She’d probably expected modification on a coal miner—not on the Countess of Rockingham.
    But if mirrored eyes still horrified the woman, chances were she’d never actually seen a miner. And if she’d heard the story behind her mother’s eyes, the lady’s gaze would soon be seeking Mina.
    Felicity must have looked to see what had caught Mina’s attention. She asked, “And what is your mother’s goal tonight? A husband for you, or new recruits for her Ladies Reformation League?”
    Mina’s friend underestimated her mother’s efficiency. “Both.”
    As efficient as her mother was, however, finding new recruits for her League had greater possibility for success. Finding a husband for Mina was as likely as King Edward writing his own name legibly. Mina was approaching thirty years of age without once attracting the attention of a worthy man. Only bounders searching for a taste of the forbidden, or Englishmen seeking revenge for the horrors of the Mongol occupation—and Mina resembled the people they wanted to exact their vengeance on.
    A loud, hacking cough from beside Mina turned her head. A bounder, red in the face, lowered his handkerchief from his mouth. His gaze touched Mina and darted away.
    She arched her brows at Felicity, inviting comment.
    Felicity watched the man walk away. “I suppose it does not matter, anyway. They will all soon retreat to the countryside or back to the New World.”
    Yes, they’d soon run. They’d been made too confident by their success in America. They’d built a new life out of a wild land, taming it to suit their needs. Now, they thought they could return and reshape London—but London reshaped them, instead. The only way to stay alive in the city was to infect themselves with the tiny machines that their ancestors had run from two hundred years before. Without the bugs, the insides of their lungs would become as black as a chimney.
    Some bounders eventually relented and took an injection of infected blood. But even with the same nanoagents in their bodies, they still weren’t anything like those buggers born in England. They still thought like bounders, talked like bounders, and had a bounder’s interests. The bugs didn’t change that.
    From directly beside Mina came the sound of a throat clearing. She turned. A ginger-haired maid in a black uniform bobbed a curtsy. Though Mina had noted that the servants from the New World usually lowered their gazes, this girl couldn’t seem to help herself. The maid studied Mina’s face, fascinated and wary. The Horde trade routes didn’t cross the Atlantic to the New World, and only a few of the Horde were left in England. Perhaps the maid had never seen a Mongol before—or, as in Mina’s case, a mongrel.
    Mina raised her brows.
    The maid blushed and bowed her head. “A gentleman asks to see you, my lady.”
    “Oh, she is not a lady,” Felicity said airily. “She is a detective inspector .”
    The mock gravity weighing down the last word seemed to confound the maid. She colored and fidgeted. Perhaps she worried that inspector was a bugger’s insult?
    Mina said, “What man?”
    “A Constable Newberry, my lady. He’s brought with him a message to you.”
    Mina frowned and stood, but was brought around by Felicity’s exasperated, “Mina, you didn’t!”
    Mina could determine the motives of