Clockwork Princess

her.
    “Well, Gabriel and I might well be married,” Cecily said. “Someday.”
    Gabriel made a choking noise, and turned an alarming shade of purple.
    Will threw up his hands. “You can’t be married, Cecily! You’re only fifteen! When I get married, I’ll be eighteen! An adult!”
    Cecily did not look impressed. “We may have a long engagement,” she said. “But I cannot see why you are counseling me to marry a man my parents have never met.”
    Will sputtered. “I am not counseling you to marry a man your parents have never met!”
    “Then we are in agreement. Gabriel must meet Mam and Dad.” Cecily turned to Henry. “Is the Portal ready?”
    Tessa leaned close to Will. “I do love the way she manages you,” she whispered. “It is quite entertaining to watch.”
    “Wait until you meet my mother,” Will said, and slipped his hand into hers. His fingers were cold; his heart must have been racing. Tessa knew he had been up all night. The idea of seeing his parents after so many years was as terrifying to him as it was joyful. She knew that admixture of hope and fear, infinitely worse than just one alone.
    “The Portal is quite ready,” said Henry. “And remember, in an hour I shall open it again, that you may return through it.”
    “And understand that this is just this once,” Charlotte said anxiously. “Even if I am the Consul, I cannot allow you to visit your mundane family—”
    “Not even at Christmas?” said Cecily, with large, tragic eyes.
    Charlotte weakened visibly. “Well, perhaps Christmas …”
    “And birthdays,” said Tessa. “Birthdays are special.”
    Charlotte put her hands over her face. “Oh, by the Angel.”
    Henry laughed, and swept an arm toward the door. “Go on through,” he said, and Cecily went first, vanishing through the Portal as if she had stepped through a waterfall. Gabriel followed, and then Will and Tessa, holding tightly to each other’s hands. Tessa concentrated on the warmth of Will’s hand, the pulse of blood through his skin, as the cold and darkness took them, whirling them about for breathless, ageless moments. Lights burst behind her eyes, and she emerged from the darkness suddenly, blinking and stumbling. Will caught her to him, keeping her from falling.
    They were standing on the wide curved drive in front of Ravenscar Manor. Tessa had seen the place only from above, when she and Jem and Will had visited Yorkshire together, not realizing that Will’s family inhabited the house now. She recalled that the manor was held in the cup of a valley, with hills sweeping up on either side, covered in gorse and heather—patched now with a dusting of snow. The trees had been green then; they were leafless now, and from the dark slate roof of the manor hung sparkling icicles.
    The door was dark oak, a heavy brass knocker set in the center. Will looked at his sister, who nodded minutely at him, then squared his shoulders and reached to lift and release it. The resultant crash seemed to echo through the valley, and Will swore under his breath.
    Tessa touched his wrist lightly with her hand. “Be brave,” she said. “It’s not a duck, is it?”
    He turned to smile at her, dark hair falling in his eyes, just as the door opened to reveal a neatly dressed parlor maid in a black dress and white mobcap. She took one look at the group on the doorstep, and her eyes widened like saucers.
    “Miss
Cecily
,” she gasped, and then her eyes went to Will. She clapped a hand over her mouth, turned, and bolted back into the house.
    “Oh, dear,” said Tessa.
    “I have that effect on women,” Will said. “I probably should have warned you before you agreed to marry me.”
    “I can still change my mind,” Tessa said sweetly.
    “Don’t you dare—,” he began with a breathless half laugh, and then suddenly there were people at the door—a tall man, broad-shouldered, with a mass of fair hair streaked with gray, and light blue eyes. Just behind him was a woman: slender and startlingly beautiful, with Will and Cecily’s ink-black hair and blue eyes as dark as violets. She cried out the moment her gaze fell on Will, and her hands came up, fluttering like white birds startled by a gust of wind.
    Tessa released Will’s hand. He seemed frozen, like a fox when the hounds were almost on him. “Go on,” Tessa said softly, and he stepped forward, and then his mother was embracing him, saying, “I knew you’d come back. I
knew
you would,” followed by a