The Reckless Skies (The Society for General Inquiry Book 1)

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

Charlotte Beauchene stood at her telescope, which she had placed in an east-facing window in her suite at the Langham Hotel. She adjusted a shiny brass knob and squinted through the eyepiece. A blurry orange blob loomed into vision and after a few more adjustments, the blob refined itself into the shape of airship, a Class-C Adhair by the look of it.

“My, my, you have been a busy little engineer, Dr. Duncan,” Charlotte muttered to herself. “Would you just look at the propulsion systems on that old relic.”

She looked up from the telescope and tried to spot the airship with her naked eye. She could just make it out as it sped towards the horizon. She gave the disappearing ship a proud smile. “Bon voyage, boys.”

“A telegram for you, madam,” came the level tones of her butler, Reginald.

Charlotte turned away from her telescope and took up the paper from the silver tray in the butler’s hand. “Thank you, Reginald.”

Written in that curious language of telegrams, the message read, “GOOD WORK STOP PROCEED TO VENICE STOP FIND ANTIQUARIAN STOP SIGNED SG.”

Stepping over to the fireplace, Charlotte crumpled the paper in her hand and then tossed it into the flames. She watched it as the paper curled and burned away into ash. “Start packing, Reginald, and let the front desk know that we’ll be checking out tomorrow. I'd like to have an itemized bill by supper, if at all possible.”

“Yes, madam,” said Reginald. “May I inquire as to our destination once quitting the hotel?”

Charlotte turned to him with an impish grin. “Of course you may. We’re going to Italy—Venice, to be precise.”

The butler didn’t bat an eyelash at this declaration. “I see, madam. I shall make the necessary preparations for the journey. Will madam be requiring a sleeper car aboard the train?”

“Heavens no, Reginald. You know how I despise sleeping while in motion. Map out the necessary stopovers and make hotel reservations, starting with Paris, if you don't mind."

The butler bowed. "Will that be all, madam?"

"Yes, thank you, Reginald,” she said in a dismissive tone, and the butler scuttled off to carry out his orders.

Charlotte returned to the window and rested her elbow on the telescope in a very unladylike manner. A dark cloud loomed on the horizon, threatening to drench the city in rain by nightfall. But for now, the sun shined in the expansive blue sky, bathing the city in what was likely to be its last flash of warmth before winter set it.

“England can be so dreary this time of year,” she said to no one in particular. “It’s no wonder the Antiquarian would rather be in Venice.”

Her body tingled with excitement. Nothing thrilled Charlotte Beauchene like the prospect of travel. She bent down to peak through her telescope one more time, but the orange airship had slipped out of view. Replacing the lens cap, she began to disassemble the telescope. She had a lot of packing to do before she could catch her train to Dover.