She gazed upward, skyward, heavenward.
Help!
A pathetic prayer, but the only one she could manage. Yet no sooner had the plea formed than a shadowed silhouettedove into the lake. Mr. Arthur, plunging toward her at a fast clip. Extending his crutch as a lifeline.
She seized the wooden handle, and Mr. Arthur pulled her up. Crushed her against his chest. Mr. Arthur held her in one arm and reached for the light with the other, holding the crutch. Going through the motions of swimming as though they weren’t sinking at a faster clip. As though they weren’t weighted down by petticoats and bronze.
As though they had a chance.
Percussive pops resounded through the water, followed by a whoosh of bubbles.
Sun? How were they traveling toward the sun?
And why was Mr. Arthur upside down?
Clara burst through the lake’s surface and gasped for air with desperate gulps. She hadn’t drowned. They hadn’t drowned. How in the name of heaven and earth had they managed that? She sought the gaze of Mr. Arthur, the human buoy she’d clung to for dear life—and absolutely no other reason.Ahem.
Cheeks aflame, she coughed and sputtered. “B-by what magic are we afloat?”
“Not magic. Ingenuity.” With a lopsided grin, he pointed the crutch toward his feet.
The mechanical boot, which had sent Mr. Arthur plunging through the water, was now encased in what appeared to be a red balloon, floating on the surface of the lake. Somehow, Grand had turned his apprentice into a literal human buoy.
Another cough rattled water in her lungs. “While I should like an explanation, my curiosity is far surpassed by my newfound disdain for this lake. Let’s head for solid ground.”
“Right-oh. Take hold of the flotation device, and I’ll dog-paddle us to shore faster than a Labrador.”
Clara smirked. “You’re beginning to sound like my mother.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He raised a brow humorously. “I think.”
Once transported to the lakeside, Clara collapsed in a sodden heap on the grass and wiped her hands over her face. Heremptyhands. “Crumbled biscuits, I lost the cygnet! I had it in my hand just before I went over and now . . . it’s gone. There’s no telling how long it will take us to find it again.” Her shoulders slumped, hands falling to her lap. “We almost drowned for naught.”
“Don’t be such a negative Nelly.” Mr. Arthur planted his crutch on the shore and rose from the lake. With his free hand, he retrieved Grand’s pocket watch and held the precious timepiece to his ear. “Drosselmeyer’s watch still ticks, so there’s hope of our tracking down the automaton yet. Especially now that we know what we’re looking for.”
He hobbled in her direction, taking care not to rupture the flotation device’s inflatable, and lowered beside her on the luxuriant blades of grass. Dripping blond locks obscured his eyes and most of his bearded face.
How had the brawny man in the lake emerged from it a winsome whelp? “I know you wished to be a Labrador, but I believe a shaggy briard would be closer to the truth.”
“Is that so? Perhaps I should spruce up then, eh?” Mr. Arthur gave his head an energetic shake and sent droplets flying in all directions.
Shielding her face, Clara fell back on the grass with a hearty laugh.
Mr. Arthur reclined on an elbow, resting his head atop a fist, tousled waves now combed back with a carefree air. His gaze shone down on her with palpable warmth. “I should’ve listened when you told me to shove off at the London docks. Taking a dive in the Thames would’ve been worth it to hear your laugh.”
Clara swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.Only now she couldn’t blame the lake. “Y-you were supposed to explain about the flotation device once we got to shore. How does it work?” Perhaps if he jabbered about engineering and gadgetry, her lungs would remember how to function.
“I haven’t the foggiest. My supposition would be a controlled release of hydrogen gas triggered by submersion in wat—”
“You assisted Grand in the creation of the prosthetic, did you not?”
“I offered a few ideas to increase the knee joint’s range of motion, but Drosselmeyer carried out the bulk of the construction alone as I was sent off to bathe before attaching the prosthetic. He’s quite the genius, your grandfather. He’s not limited by the obvious or the logical. Not intimidated by the achievements of others or bound by his own limitations. He just imagines and creates. I only wish he’d informed me of this inflatable safety measure. As it is, I’m at a loss—”
“Informed?” She propped herself on an elbow, mirroring Mr. Arthur on the grass. “Are you saying you had no knowledge of being outfitted with a flotation device when you dove into that lake?”
“That’s correct.”
“And you dove after me anyway ... with a veritable anchor strapped to your person?”
