Steam Theatre Masquerade

Steam Theatre Masquerade
By Maita Rue
Genre: Romance
Archetype Cards: A repentant Traitor and the Tomboy
Keywords: blindness, amulet, disease, diamond, cries in the night, and betrothal.

It started with a grand masquerade. It ended with an unmasking.
I’ve unmasked her. She unmasked me.
We’ve unmasked those who would tear our love apart.

Chapter 1

The young Baron surveyed the dance floor. Masks, all of the masks surrounded him. Paper, metal, gears, take your choice in masks but he was not interested in any of them. The grand ballroom of the Neo Industrial Steam Theatre was decorated with a thousand bright lights. Aether? No, this was a new-fangled electric city or something. It was supposed to be safer and more efficient than gas lamps. Whatever it was called, it was glittering, dancing, and shining light to the ton who was enjoying the night.
Happy New Year! There’s nothing happy about the new year. Women, wine, gambling, it didn’t excite him the way it used to. He didn’t know why he was feeling maudlin this evening. Lord Willford Gunther Bradley, Baron of Claushire, decided to exit early.
“Leaving so soon, Bradley?” Markus Meeks, his friend, asked. Although, it was more of a statement than a question. Meeks was wearing a plain white mask, very uncomplicated compared to his elaborate brocade piece. That was Meeks, uncomplicated and simple. His family owned a cotton mill.
“I’m bored.”
Meeks laughed. “You’re always bored, Bradley. Try enjoying yourself. There’s never been an extravagant party as this in all of Neo Industrial London!”
He was right, the Baron thought. The Steam Theatre hosted parties that tried to outdo its last party. Why? Because nothing can compare to the Steam Theatre. There were world-class performances and there were world-class performances. The parties were the toast of the ton. Decorations, food, wine, and entertainment were the best. Only in the Steam Theatre were Automatons of various shapes serving, performing, and waiting on people.
“Seen one, seen them all,” he tried to dismiss it. “I’m going home.”
“You won’t be when you see Monsieur Bricomann’s date. They say she is as mysterious as he is,” his friend chattered. “Lady Gears, she is called. How fitting to escort the Phantom of the Steam Theatre! She has the most dazzling costume with wings of gears. Gears and steam!”
“Lady Gears, hmm?” Had he seen her perform?
“She’s not your typical mark but she is intriguing. Look! There she is standing beside the buffet table,” Meeks pointed.
The sight hit Willford Bradley like a steam engine. There, meters away from him is a tall lady with a mask made of gears and a cleavage so full. Behind her were a large pair of wings made of moving gears. She looked like a lovely vision of an angel of steam. Willford smiled. “It seems I am in need of refreshment. By your leave, Meeks!” He made his way to the buffet table where an alluring lady in gold and brass was choosing what pastry she’d like to sample.
“Good evening, miss,” he greeted. “Might I proffer a dance card for the jig?”
The lady turned to him. She was wearing a gold evening gown with a very low décolletage. He approved but her father might not. Her face was hidden behind a mask of moving gears. “Oh, my lord!”
“Lord? I’m but a mere man, a guest of the ball,” he dismissed by waving his hands.
Her mask betrayed nothing but he could tell she was frowning. “You are not a mere guest, Baron Claushire.”
“You know who I am? Have we met?” Surely, they moved in the same circles. He tried to recall a lady of her stature but he came up blank.
“Yes, but do not ask me where. This is a masquerade after all.” She turned her back and put some comestibles on her plate. He saw her backless dress and saw her wings made of gears attached to the flesh of her back.
“Interesting! A lady of intrigue. You have piqued my curiosity! You do sound familiar. We are acquainted, are we not?” It would not do to talk to a lady he was not acquainted with. Then again, he was a rake and claimed. He made his own rules.
She smiled. “I assure you, my lord, we are acquainted.”
“How acquainted?” And how come he couldn’t recall any lady who sounded as familiar as she did? “While everyone is wearing paper masks, I find the most enchanting lady wearing a mask of metal!”
Her mask of gears was no mere motif. The gears moved and danced on their own. “I am not the only one in a metal mask. There are those in metal masks as well. Look to the performers.” Around the room, there were performers stationed on various platforms and strings from the ceiling. The performances were in full swing.
“I wonder how it would feel to perform…” It was a thought he said out loud but it made her smile. “I imagine it would be an adventure working for the Marquis and being trained by Monsieur Phantom.”
Speaking of the Phantom, where was he? “But my lady, where is your escort for the night?”
“Monsieur Exter? He’s playing his set,” she pointed to the mechanical man seated in front of the pianoforte. He was about to perform. The Baron frowned at the first name basis. Was she a close friend of Monsieur Phantom? He was very mysterious and nobody knew his origins. The mechanical man had many friends and many important connections. His employer, the Marquis de Chats, too had many connections in the aristocracy and the royalties of Europe. “But you are mistaken, sir. I am his escort of the night.”
“How shocking!”
“Very French but that is to be expected of Monsieur Phantom.” The first Steam Theatre was in Paris. Since then, it has spread to Neo Industrial London and Blackpool. The music started. “It is the waltz, my lord. Will you care to dance or would you rather wait for the jig?”
“Is this a French thing as well? You ask a man instead of the other way around.”
She held out her hands instead of replying.
Willford smiled and took her hands. She was a breathtaking woman. He’d love to peel her off these gold trappings.
They entered the dancefloor of the grand ballroom. The floor tiles were gold and shiny. Above them glittered a thousand light bulbs. Around them were automatons serving, cleaning, and ushering. The music began and they started to dance.
The Waltz was an easy-paced. It was romantic in the way that two people swayed to such heavenly melodies. Lady Gears let herself be led by Baron Bradley. She leaned her head back and let her wings of gears spread out. It opened and whizzed moving with her mask gears.
“Enchanting, my lady. You are enchanting,” he breathed. Willford knew she was blushing but it was all hidden under her mask. Dare he pull it off? It might cause a scene. Would it be worth it?
The Phantom’s melodious voice silenced the room. For such a scary man, he had such a heavenly voice. When his song ended, so did the dance.
“Shall we dance a jig?”
She was wheezing and held onto his hands. Her grip alarmed him. He led her to the corner and out of the crowd. She seems to be having trouble breathing. Her gear wings pumped and whizzed then slowed. “I’m afraid I’ve lost my breath. Please, escort me to a fainting room,” she said and he could hear that she was breathless.
Willford escorted her to the many small rooms at the side of the ballroom. There were cardrooms to the right and smaller fainting rooms for ladies to rest on the left of the ballroom. He led her to an unoccupied one at the far end of the room. Inside the fainting room was a partitioned commode, a chaise lounge, and a vanity desk. He led her to the chaise lounge but didn’t leave her.
Lady Gears produced a small key from her neck. It hung like an amulet. She wound a keyhole in between her cleavage. Willford blushed and turned away. He heard a mechanical wind up. It was like a doll’s windup. After he heard a click, she gasped and breathed easier. “I do beg your pardon, Baron Bradley. I must wind my lungs every few hours or I lose my breath,” she explained.
“Is that the Phantom’s doing?” The Phantom of the Steam Theatre and the Marquis de Chats, his employer, were known to be at the forefront of Automata technology. They were the only ones to successfully fuse parts to humans. He heard that the Duke of Reddingfield’s wife had glass and automata arm and leg. The Count Von Voltaire had an automata arm. Even the Phantom himself was half-automata. It was rumored that the Marquis de Chat’s wife was half automata as well. “These wings are not just decorative, are they?”
Her wings, as large as she was, they beat and whizzed. He looked at them closely. They were like giant lungs. What marvel, he thought. Only the Phantom and the Marquis could make such. He knew no other who could make automata tech like these. It looked heavy for such a slim lady to be carrying yet she carried her wings with ease.
“Ever since I was a child, I had weak lungs. It held me from pursuing what I wanted,” she explained. “My father kept me indoors at all times because of this. The Neo Industrial London air would corrupt my lungs easily and send me into a whacking cough for days.”
“I know what you mean. I once had a friend. She had the same health condition.” He knew a friend back in his childhood days. She too had a degenerative lung problem. She had to be sent to the countryside to live. Once, he visited her but by that time, he was a young lad in pursuit of light skirts. She was such a tomboy, not his type at all but they had cultivated a strong friendship over time. Perhaps, he should write her a letter to inquire as to her health. “So, what is Lady Gears doing all by herself in the great Steam Theatre?”
Once she had her bearings, she tucked the key in her purse. “I am Monsieur Exter’s latest apprentice.”
“Truly? The theatre is letting more ladies perform?” It started in Paris. The ladies were no longer limited to dancing at the Moulin Rouge. The Parisian Steam Theatre allowed women to perform. The trend was catching on in Neo Industrial London. The Phantom and the Marquis had brought Anemone, the Singing Angel of the Deep. She was the toast of the town. Soon, there were performers like the Duchess Reddingfield and the human butterfly known as Mariposa. It seems Lady Gears will be joining them on the boards.
“What would your father say?”
She sniffed. “My father will and won’t understand.”
“Huh?”
“He is very old-fashioned, my lord, but had I not run away to the theatre, I would be trapped in my room waiting for the next bout of cough to overtake me. Soon, like my mother, I would waste away and that will be the end of life unlived,” she enlightened him.
“Life unlived…” he whispered. Just like her… He had to admire a woman to take her fate into her own hands.
“So, tell me about this friend of yours. Does she still live in the countryside?”
He frowned. “As far as I know.”
“But you have not contacted her, have you?”
He sighed and sat beside her on the chaise lounge. It was very bad form but he needed the break from etiquette to reminisce about his misspent childhood. “Her name was Amanda. She was tall for her age, nearly as tall as me when we were growing up. She often stole her brother’s clothes and ran into all sorts of adventures with me. One day, she wouldn’t stop coughing. The doctors were brought and told her father about her lung problem. She had to be sent to the countryside.”
“She sounds like the adventurous type.”
“Oh, she is! She wasn’t afraid to climb chimneys, race on horses, and arm-wrestle other boys,” he laughed. “She’s even bolder than that brother of hers!”
“A woman after my own heart,” Lady Gears mused. “She must have quite the life. To be sent to the countryside might be hell on earth for her.”
“Could be but her chimney days are over. She would eventually marry and live a quiet life.” That was society’s unwritten rule. Poor Amanda had no say.
“I wonder if that would ever happen to me. To be simply married off or perhaps waste away in my room, never having an adventure.” Perhaps it was the fate of every marriageable lady.
“You are quite the adventurer yourself,” he affirmed.
“You can tell?” She was teasing him.
“A woman who runs away to thread the board and escort the Phantom of the Steam Theatre is definitely an adventurer.” And he was intrigued, very intrigued. “Please tell me who you are.” He couldn’t help asking. As inappropriate as it was, he leaned into her, taking in her scent, her essence. She was perfection, a lovely blend of metal and flesh.
But she would not give in. “For tonight, I am Lady Gears.” Behind the mask, her eyes were glittering, betraying emotions. Her luscious lips were half-opened. He could not help himself, he leaned even closer and pressed his lips to hers. He pulled her flushed against him and she allowed herself to be swept into the moment.
The kiss, like a hundred kisses he had given, started as any kiss. Two people were attracted to each other and they kissed. But something about Lady Gears told him that this kiss was no mere kiss. She was something special. Willford knew he was smitten. What would he find under the mask? In this kiss, he gave his all until he was drowning in her. Lady Gears gave back what she received. She was a delight, he decided.
When she started to pant, he released her at once. “Oh, my lady! Should you wind your key?”
She put the little key in his gloved hands. “Would you like to wind me, my lord?”
He didn’t protest. When she lowered her décolletage to expose the keyhole just below the chest line, he couldn’t help but blush. He’s been with women before but none had affected him like Lady Gears.
“Three turns clockwise would suffice, my lord,” she instructed.
Willford was about to put the key into her when something crashed into the large stained-glass window. Startled, she clutched is arms. “What the-!”
With no time to react, the thing that crashed in unfurled and ran straight into the couple. Shocked but propelled into action, he tried to shield the lady from glass and debris. The thing was huge. When it came closer, he saw what I was. It was a large automaton and it was headed for Lady Gears. Bradley tried to block the creature but he was pushed aside. The big thing took Lady Gears with its long spindly arms. Willford grabbed her hands and pulled with all his might. Two gloved hands slipped and she was dragged out the window.
“Will!” She called out.
Willford ran to catch up with them but the creature, a spider-like mechanical monster, was dragging the lady out of the window with it. Fearing for her life, he tried to reach her outstretched hands but to no avail. The creature was so fast. It exited the broken window in a rush.
“Lady Gears!” He looked out, searching for the creature in the darkness. It crashed into a cellar door just below the theatre grounds.
Willford ran out the hall but the sea of people nearly drowned him. He needed to find help, someone who would believe what had just happened. He bumped this way and that, his cries of help unheard. Finally, he was propelled to a familiar face. It was Meeks and he was talking to a gentleman.
“Meeks! Meeks, quick! You need to help me,” he blurted to his friend.
“Bradley! Look who it is! It’s Cogsworthy, Duke of Montox. He used to go to the university with us,” Meeks introduced. Noticing his friend’s anxiety, he asked, “What’s the matter?”
“Meeks, a large mechanical monster attacked us and took Lady Gears!”
“What?” Amidst the loud noise, Meeks and the Duke heard him. “You are not jesting.”
The large man beside them frowned. “Where?” The Duke asked him to lead the way. He didn’t question the truth of the mechanical monster at all. Had he encountered them in the past?
Willford directed his two friends to the room. When they got there, tiny automatons were already beginning to clean the room. “Shoo! Don’t touch that,” Willford tried to shoo the cleaners away.
“Don’t mind them. It’s what they were programmed to do,” The Duke said. “How large was this creature?”
Willford pointed to the window. “It was bigger than the two of us put together. It picked up Lady Gears as if she was a doll then exited down there.” He pointed to the open cellar doors which were now in the process of closing.
The Duke looked down at the sprawling gardens. The property that bordered the Steam Theatre was wooded but that didn’t mean it held no secrets of its own. “That, my lord,” he pointed. “That goes to the Underground Theatre.”
“The what?” He and Meeks asked.
The Duke cleared his throat. “What I’m about to tell you will not leave this room,” he said ominously. The two friends were grim but nodded. “Under the Steam Theatre is the secret Underground Theatre. It’s is a dark place and what I mean isn’t about lighting.”
Baron Bradley gulped. “What is this Underground Theatre?” The Steam Theatre in Neo Industrial London had been in existence for a decade now and the Baron had been an avid theatre fan. He’d never heard of the Underground Theatre.
“It’s a secret entertainment arena. Only a few people know it’s existence. Men go there to fight, to watch the fight and to bet on the fights.”
“B-but that’s illegal,” Meeks exclaimed.
“It is and nobody knows it. The doors will not open for anyone but those invited,” the Duke informed them.
“How will I get invited?”
The Duke bent to pick up a red card on the floor. “It seems, Baron Bradley, you already are invited. I suggest you rush in before this invitation is rescinded.”
Willford took the red card. It was an ordinary calling card made of thick linen paper. He gasped when he saw the logo. It was of a spider. No! It was not just a spider. It was an automata spider. “You mean to say I’m going to fight this thing for Lady Gears?”
“Be careful, Bradley. Perhaps we should call a constable. We should wait until they arrive,” Meeks suggested.
“I cannot wait that long.” He showed them the key in his hands and explained Lady Gear’s breathing condition. “So you see, she cannot wait that long. She might not make it in time. I have to wind her lungs and fast.” Also, the way she called to him bothered him. Nobody called him Will. Only…
“Then you must go, Baron Bradley. Save the lady,” Duke Cogsworthy said. “A word of warning: The Marquis has his grandfather’s war automatons, a lot of them. They are stored underground. Do you understand?”
Willford nodded and rushed out of the Steam Theatre and went to the red door outside the theatre. This was the entrance of the Underground Theatre. He took a deep breath, took off his mask, and entered the red door. 
Chapter 2

Willford Gunther Bradley, Baron Claushire, was in a whole new world. This was not your typical theatre, albeit underground. The walls leading down were lined with red and black velvet. The lights were dimmed so he had to descend with care.
When he was deep inside the corridor, the walls moved and then parted. Willford gasped when the velvets parted and revealed two rows of automatons. These automatons were different from the automatons in the theatre. They were taller, sharper, and made of black steel instead of the shiny golden brass. When their eye sockets glowed red, Willford knew he was in trouble. He started to run deeper underground.
The ground was hard but not rough. It was not cobbled either. It was dense and clearly man-made. But this was the Marquis and the Phantom. Automatons must have paved the flooring. He shuddered. What might pop out of the floor?
Will… Will… Will… that voice, his nickname, it was triggering memories. Who was Lady Gears?
Most of his friends called him Bradley. His father and mother called him Willford. Nobody called him Will except… she couldn’t be! He shook his head.
A rather large automaton stepped out of formation and blocked his way. It waved its scythe-like arms. Willford ducked, barely missing being hit in the head. He jumped in between the automaton’s legs and rolled to the other side. Before he looked back, he made sure he ran a good distance. The automaton was tall, his scythe-like arms were not just decorations. They were razor-sharp. Did the Marquis’ grandfather win the war because of these?
Another Automaton jumped in this path. This had a different contraption in its arms. There were attachments like a small crossbow but he knew its impact would be anything but small. This automaton was a weapon on its own. These were the Marquis’ creations after all.
The first projectile nearly hit him. Willford was able to duck out of the way. The second projectile was aimed at him while he was down on the floor. He rolled away as a steel arrow hit the floor. It embedded itself in the brick floor. He gulped. As the creature reloaded a crossbow bolt, Willford barreled into it and knocked it down. He proceeded forward.
The third automaton was larger. It was over seven feet tall, muscular, and had spiked maces for hands but it was guarding the door to his destination. It was completely black and very imposing.
“Sweet heavens!” He couldn’t help but shudder. This was only one automaton. He tried to imagine a hundred of these on the battlefield. No wonder the Marquis and his grandfather were formidable. Although why the present Marquis de Chat chose the theatre life instead of earning coins as a mercenary, he didn’t know.
The clock was ticking. He needed to get to Lady Gears. How was he to get past this automaton? When it came at him, he had to jump back. Behind him, he saw the two previous automatons approaching. He was dead, he knew it.
“Think, Will, think!” He was on the brink of screaming, of running away when he noticed something on the automaton’s chest. He looked behind him and back to the automaton in front. It was unmistakable. Each automaton had a keyhole in its breast.
It was the same keyhole as Lady Gears. He swore to it. They all had the same designs. If Lady Gears needed three turns clockwise to function, would it mean that three turns counterclockwise would mean the opposite. Would it?
The large automaton raised its arms to ready itself. Before losing his gut, he rushed forward and placed the key into the slot. He turned the key counterclockwise three times. The giant automaton stopped mid-stride. “It worked,” he breathed. While the other two automatons were still far behind, he rushed to the far door and entered it.
He stumbled into the dark, trying to feel his way to a door or to the far back. He slipped and fell on the floor. When the lights opened, Lady Gears was standing on a pedestal. From the far wall, several ladies came out. They were scantily cladded in gossamer pants and pasties, exposing their breasts. When they finally finished their dance, they pounced on him, holding him in very compromising places.
“I beg your pardon, madam!” He tried to push away their hands. “I must go!”
He looked up to Lady Gears. Her eyes were closed. Was he too late? He pushed at the ladies rather aggressively. He had to get to her. They hissed at him. Then, their faces fell and revealed that they were automatons.
At that moment, he didn’t have time to worry about them. He had to save her. When he got to the platform, he fished out the key to make her breathe but found his pockets empty. Willford patted all his pockets.
“Looking for this?”
Willford looked behind him and spotted the Phantom. He gasped. It was Monsieur Bricomann with an army of automatons behind him. The spider-like automaton was standing on his left. On his right were the rest and the lady automatons were behind him.
“Monsieur, please! I must save her,” Willford begged.
The Phantom approached him. “She is mine,” he intoned.
“Please, all I ask is to save her,” the Baron said.
The lights all flickered and then went to full blast. As if a thousand gaslights were fired up. He was blinded for a moment then his eyes adjusted. They were in a sort of underground arena. He could see seats and patron boxes just like the theatre. The circular platform where they stood was where gladiators met in battle.
“You will have to fight my best warrior to get to her,” the Phantom declared. “Oh, and you have roughly ten minutes before Lady Gears expires.” The Phantom stepped aside while the lady automatons and the war automatons lined the sides of the arena. There was no exiting without a fight. From the far door, the warrior came. The Phantom tossed him the small key. The fighter put it around his neck.
He put up his fists, readying himself for what monstrous automaton would fight him. He won his fair share of fisticuffs but he’s never dueled an automaton before. Which one would be fighting him?
“Duke Cogsworthy?” He couldn’t believe the man was a fighter. He thought the Duke knew about the Underground Theatre because he liked to bet on the games.
“Sorry, old chap. I was summoned,” the Duke bowed. “But I didn’t expect to fight you.”
“Let’s make this quick if you must. The Lady will expire if I don’t wind her in ten minutes.”
The Duke nodded then lunged. Willford veered away but he circled the Duke. The Lady was at stake. He doesn’t know what nefarious plot the Phantom has but he needs to get to Lady Gears before she expires.
Distracted, the Duke was able to land a blow to his right chest. His brocade coat had taken most of the blow but it also hindered his movements. Meanwhile, his opponent was only wearing breeches and a white shirt. The Baron took off his coat. Mobility was better than the protection of the restrictive article of clothing.
He attacked with ferocity. The two opponents met fists for fists. They wrestled and blocked, each was evenly matched. While the Duke was stocky and his blows were harder, The Baron was fast on his feet and were able to deflect most of the blows.
“Where did you learn to block that way?” The Duke asked.
He assumed his fighter’s stance. “My nanny was from the Orient. She noticed that I was small but quick and so she taught me the art of fighting from her homeland.”
The Duke did a one-two jab but only managed to wing the Baron on the first jab. They both attacked again. This time, the Duke was able to land a good one on his left eye.
“I’ll feel that in the morning,” he quipped.
“Try cold raw meat. Just put it on the eye until the swelling reduces.” This was nothing personal to the Duke. A fight was just like any other fight.
“What did the Phantom take from you?”
The Duke shrugged. “He didn’t take anything. Monsieur Bricomann offered me five hundred neo pounds to beat you into a pulp. I got bored from dancing with chits and their unwed aunties so I accepted.”
So, the Baron thought, this was all for money and entertainment. Before tonight, he would have thought the same. He might have taken up a similar offer for sport but not tonight. Tonight was all about saving an intriguing Lady.
Lady Gears started to gasp and wheeze for air. Time was running out. He had to end this.
“Is she really that important to you?”
“I met her only tonight but a gentleman must always rescue a lady,” he stated.
“Give me your best shot then.”
It was unreal. Between the pain in his eye and other parts of his body, he was getting slower. The Baron attacked one last time, giving his best, giving his all. He frowned as the Duke just stood his ground. His fists landed a good uppercut on the Duke Cogsworthy knocking him back.
“I yield!” The Duke held up the key for the Baron.
Without another thought, Willford ran to Lady Gears. He hopped on the platform and slotted the key into her keyhole. Three clockwise turns later, she was able to breathe again. Her gasps of air were music to his ears. He untied her hands and hopped off the platform.
“Bravo, dear Baron.”
He tried to run to the door with Lady Gears but she flew out of his arms. “Amanda!” He tried to grab her but she flew beside the Phantom.
“So, you know?” She took off her mask and revealed herself to him.
“It is you! When you called me Will, I knew right then who you were but I didn’t want to believe,” he smiled. She was older now but in a way, she was very much the same girl he remembered. “You were just a tomboy, always running around rooftops and swinging near chimneys.”
“I was always running after you but you didn’t seem to notice.”
“Oh, I noticed.”
“Did you, Will? It seems you were more interested in painted ladies and loose chits.”
“I was but I always have a place in my heart for you. But I have to ask why are you with Monsieur Phantom?”
“I have to stay in the Steam Theatre. I am indebted to Monsieur Exter for six years,” she answered.
“Whatever your price is, sir, I shall pay it.” Willford had the means. His vast fortunes were enough to keep him in luxury for ten lifetimes.
The Phantom gave a hollow laugh. “I do not need your coin, my lord.”
“What do you want?”
“Entertainment.”
Willford was confused. “I do not understand.”
The Phantom approached him. “Would you like to lessen Lady Gear’s indenture to the Steam Theatre?”
“Yes, even if I could take it upon myself, I would!” At a drop of hat, he would do anything for Amanda. She was somebody special to him.
Amanda gasped. “You would do that for me?”
“Anything for you.”
The Phantom opened his coat and took a rolled parchment. “This contract states that you will take upon yourself three years of her indenture to the theatre. The other three years, Lady Gears, also known as Amanda Murand will have to complete. This contract is effective immediately.”
Willford took the rolled parchment and read it. “What exactly will I be doing?” He didn’t think he had skills in dancing and singing.
“To fight, my lord. You proved tonight that you were very engaging in a fight. Imagine what a crowd it would draw!” The Phantom projected shadows onto the floor. The shadows formed two fighters, fighting in the arena. It was clear that one was him.
“No, Will, you don’t have to do that for me,” Amanda told him.
But her cries were unheard. “I shall do it.” He signed his name on the parchment.
“It is done,” the mechanical man declared. “Welcome to the theatre, Baron Bradley.” He took the parchment and rolled it back into his coat. “Worry not, my lord. All you need is a win a week. I shall see both of you tomorrow.” The lights went out for a second. When it came back up, the Phantom was nowhere to be seen and neither were the automatons.
Willford shuddered. The Phantom was a force to be reckoned with. His automatons were fast and he was sure the automatons in the Underground Theatre could conquer Neo Industrial London should the Marquis wish it. His bout in the tunnels was child’s play. Why he and the Marquis would rather have a theatre than a palace, the Baron could not fathom why.
“Bradley, I shall take my leave,” the Duke said.
“You let me hit you then yielded. Why?” The Duke had every opportunity to beat him but he could see that the man was holding back.
“Let’s just say I’m a romantic fool,” the Duke shrugged. “Next time we fight, I won’t hold back so you better be sharper.”
“I guess I will have to hunt up my old nanny. I have neglected my old training. Thank you.”
“My lady, a good evening to you.” The Duke bowed to Lady Gears and left the two lovebirds alone. Willford ran to Amanda.
Amanda kissed him, shyly, sweetly. “Thank you for winding me. I never doubted you could have bested the automatons and the Duke. But I must confess. Tonight’s hubbub was all my idea.”
“Huh? Why?”
She paced in front of him. He smiled, remembering she always did this when she was coming up with an excuse. “Would you have noticed me without my accouterments?” She asked him, wings pumping. She gave a twirl to show her whole outfit. It was an outfit that would certainly call attention to herself. The old Amanda would never have worn anything so daring.
“I would.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’ve never noticed me, Will. You noticed ladies, painted faces, and light skirts but never me. When my father sent me to the country, you only visited me once but you were chasing my housekeeper more than chatting with me.”
He blushed. During his youth, he was such a cad. He was still a cad until tonight. Tonight changed him in the way she will never know. “I… should have told you how I felt. You were always there behind me, waiting for me. I thought you’d wait a while longer.”
“If I had expired before then?” The possibilities were real.
“I’m sorry, Amanda.”
She pushed her cleavage to him and he blushed even more. “You never noticed me as a lady.” With a tight corset and a huge bustle, she was indeed very shapely. “I was dying, Will. I was wasting away with my father and my brother just waiting for the news of my death here in Neo Industrial London. So, I requested something very unheard of. I wrote to my brother and told him that I wished to see the theatre one last time before I died.”
Willford grunted. “You guilted your brother into agreeing.”
“Well, I was going to die anyway. Look at me. I had already become a woman but I was trapped in my room. Once in the theatre, I sought Monsieur Exter. Nobody else could help me. Not even the doctors could help me.”
He should have visited her more. If she didn’t get to the theatre in time, he would never forgive himself for her death. “Why the Steam Phantom?”
“You’ve seen Lady Reddingfield. She visited me once. She told me to ask the Dollmaker of Battersea. I knew she meant Monsieur Exter. When he saw me, I immediately sang for him, losing breath, and coughing blood. At that point, I thought it was already too late. I collapsed and when I woke up, Monsieur had me connected to machines to help me breathe. I didn’t have anything to offer him but my voice. He must have seen something in me. He agreed to help me and he gave me my wings.” She unfurled her gears of wings.
It must have taken great courage for her to run to the mechanical man. Many people shuddered at the thought of him. Even he had trouble facing the man mechanical.
“One day I started to see you around the theatre and hoped you’d notice me. I was starting to make a name for myself.”
Willford sighed. “I am grateful to Monsieur Phantom. Surely, there are more subtle ways to get my attention,” he smiled.
“I can think of a scheme or two but it wouldn’t get all your attention.”
Willford actually laughed. It was very Amanda. Only she could come up with something like this. He remembered in their youth, he had gotten into so much trouble because of her. “So very true.”
“Will, what will you do now?”
He took her hand and held it to his lips. “I’m going to go to your house and court you properly.”
“Must you? You’ll send my father into a tizzy.”
“Will you be French about this?”
She kissed him. “Yes and no. You can court me in the theatres.”
“Huh?”
“Well, Monsieur Exter expects me to work this three years. I have a show in the Crystal Theatre tomorrow.”
“And I shall pay your half to Monsieur Bricomann.” He touched his left eye. It was beginning to swell. “I was hoping you won’t persist in this venture after we wed. A Baron cannot have a wife who threads the boards. But it seems this Baron will be also in the theatre with her.” He pretended to be devastated. “Is it too forward of us? Imagine, two a couple threading the board in the same theatre! We would be the most shocking couple in Neo Industrial London!”
“So, we are to marry?” She put her hands on her hips.
“Yes, my lady, we are. What would your father say?”
She frowned. “He thinks I’m back in the countryside. I bribed the maids to keep sending letters saying I was still wasting away in bed.”
Willford laughed. “I can imagine you doing that.”
“He won’t understand me, Will.” She flapped her wings. Her father, the Duke of Paisley, was a very conservative man. He will not understand the reasons why Amanda would run away to the theatre.
“So we must marry and allay his fears. He might understand when you become Baroness Bradley,” he said.
“Alright, if we must but you have to explain it to him. Father always liked you best,” she pointed out. “As for our identities in Neo Industrial London, I have an idea. Nobody will know the identity of Lady Gears and the Baron Gears,” she informed him, smiling at his confusion. In answer, she put her mask on him and then gave him a kiss. He smiled.
“I think I like being Baron Gears.”
Willford pulled Amanda into a deeper kiss. So be it, he thought. This will be an interesting three years.

The End.

 
Author’s Notes

This story is part of Stories from the Steam Theatre Series. Each story revolves around the Steam Theatre. Each character is tested by circumstance and eventually the Phantom himself.

Setting:
1859, Neo Industrial London
It is the Era of Pax industrial or Industrial Peace. In this world of commerce, Airships ruled the skies but the theatres ruled the streets. Entertainment is more valuable than gold.

About Maita
Maita Rue is an author, designer and blogger. She’s the mother of four dogs and an aunt of one grumpy cat. Maita loves to read and is now finally writing the things she loves. The characters in her books have their own lives and she claims they demand their own destinies. Stories she writes are Steampunk Victorian, Historical Fantasies and Paranormal Romance. She is a board member of the starting Romance Writers of the Philippines and advocates for appropriate relationship goals through proper romance stories.