Magnificent Devices 01 - Lady of Devices

actually slept in the rough and eaten stolen food? He would never employ such a woman if he knew that, much less ... much less hold her in esteem.
    Concern.
    No. He would not squander his concern on a woman with a past, nor would she ask him to. She would enjoy his company for one brief hour and never see him again.
    A stout resolution, to be sure.
    What a pity the thought of keeping it made her sick to her stomach.

    * * *
    On the other side of the Palace, their little party found an entire hall dedicated to the wonders of electrick power. “I read in the Standard that at night, this hall is illuminated by electricks running along channels in the ironwork structure,” Andrew said. “They say it looks like a frozen lightning storm, and that you can read the paper by its light.”
    The young ruffian Claire had called Tigg looked doubtful. “How’s that?”
    Andrew pointed to the unobtrusive housings mounted next to every other support pillar, concealed by potted palms. “See those small engines there? The cells within generate the current. It’s tempting to come back later, isn’t it, just to see it all working.”
    The hint could not be any broader, but Claire only looked away. “I’m afraid the children must be at home by teatime,” she said.
    “Aye, some of us ’as to work,” muttered Tigg.
    Claire looked at him in some alarm, which seemed puzzling under the circumstances. “He means in the mews.”
    “Of course.” Andrew could not imagine what else he might have meant.
    “Mr. Malvern, perhaps we might look more closely at the small electrick cells. I am conducting a series of experiments at present and I am interested in increasing power while constraining size.”
    “You and every other inventor in that field.” Andrew smiled, and was rewarded with a smile in return that actually reached those anxious gray eyes. “Why don’t we start with the mother’s helper? It’s probably the most familiar to you.”
    “I want to see the ones on guns,” Tigg said bluntly. “House things ent going to help us.”
    “Knowledge of firearms wouldn’t help someone who plans to be a chauffeur, I wouldn’t think,” Andrew told him in what he hoped were quelling tones. Young upstart. If he hadn’t been in Claire’s company, he’d have been tempted to cuff the pup. By his age he should have learned to speak to his betters with more respect.
    Tigg seemed to be swelling up with some kind of outburst, and again Claire laid a hand on his arm. “Mr. Tigg has a particular reason for his interest,” she said. “And I should be glad to expand my knowledge in that area, as well. However, let us begin, as you said, with the mother’s helper, and then branch off into uncharted territory once we are familiar with the basics.”
    Unlike similar exhibits in the British Museum, the ones in the Crystal Palace were meant to be examined and explored. His Majesty King Albert was keen that the technologies invented by British minds should be admired by all. Andrew was able to disassemble the mother’s helper and spend an agreeable few minutes bent over it with Claire, whose own mind was so quick to grasp its principles that he suspected he was being led down the garden path.
    “You’ve already done this, haven’t you?” he finally said, as she took the loaf-shaped brass housing from his hands and snapped it into place. “You’ve taken one apart already and could probably tell me how it works.”
    “With statick repulsion,” Tigg said.
    “Very good, Mr. Tigg,” she told him, and he straightened under her approval. Then to Andrew, she said, “I confess that I have, but my companions have not. I want Tigg and young Willie here to know as much as possible. They have ... fallen somewhat behind in their educations.”
    As the little boy couldn’t be more than five, Andrew wondered at this, but he wouldn’t contradict her for the world. “Very well, then, let us proceed to larger cells. I believe we’ll find a fine example of a Winchester electrick handgun in the hall of invention for the American Territories.”
    Unfortunately they were not permitted to handle the Winchester piece, but a gentleman with an appalling accent and snakeskin boots was happy to show them how it worked. “This here cell replaces the old-fashioned magazine, see, where bullets used to go.” He tilted it out, and Claire and Tigg craned to see the small transparent globe better. “The copper tubing runs from the cell to the barrel to