A Study in Ashes: Book Three in The Baskerville Affair - Softcover

Buch 3 von 3: The Baskerville Affair

Holloway, Emma Jane

 
9780345537201: A Study in Ashes: Book Three in The Baskerville Affair
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0345537203 ISBN 13: 9780345537201
Verlag: Del Rey, 2013

Inhaltsangabe

As part of her devil’s bargain with the industrial steam barons, Evelina Cooper is finally enrolled in the Ladies’ College of London. However, she’s attending as the Gold King’s pet magician, handcuffed and forbidden contact with even her closest relation, the detective Sherlock Holmes.
 
But Evelina’s problems are only part of a larger war. The Baskerville affair is finally coming to light, and the rebels are making their move to wrest power from the barons and restore it to Queen Victoria. Missing heirs and nightmare hounds are the order of the day—or at least that’s what Dr. Watson is telling the press.
 
But their plans are doomed unless Evelina escapes to unite her magic with the rebels’ machines—and even then her powers aren’t what they used to be. A sorcerer has awakened a dark hunger in Evelina’s soul, and only he can keep her from endangering them all. The only problem is . . . he’s dead.

Praise for A Study in Ashes
 
“Holloway’s skill for creating a richly imagined, immersive world shines.”—RT Book Reviews
 
“A Study in Ashes overflows with Holloway’s signature humor and apparently boundless imagination.”—Booktalk & More
 
“The best book of the series . . . absolutely wonderful . . . I really can’t recommend it highly enough.”—Hidden in Pages
 
“Brilliantly executed . . . my favorite book of 2013 . . . what a stunning conclusion to such a phenomenal series!”—Fresh Fiction
 
“Even grander than the books before it with its drama, adventure, intrigue, romance, paranormal, gadgetry and just exciting twistiness to its storyline.”—Delighted Reader

Praise for Emma Jane Holloway’s A Study in Silks
 
“This book has just about everything: magic, machines, mystery, mayhem, and all the danger one expects when people’s loves and fears collide. I can’t wait to return to the world of Evelina Cooper!”—Kevin Hearne, New York Times bestselling author of The Iron Druid Chronicles
 
“As Sherlock Holmes’s niece, investigating murder while navigating the complicated shoals of Society—and romance—in an alternate Victorian England, Evelina Cooper is a charming addition to the canon.”—Jacqueline Carey, New York Times bestselling author of the Kushiel’s Legacy series
 
“Holloway takes us for quite a ride, as her plot snakes through an alternate Victorian England full of intrigue, romance, murder, and tiny sandwiches. Full of both thrills and frills.”—Nicole Peeler, author of the Jane True series
 
“A Study in Silks is a charming, adventurous ride with a heroine who is both clever and talented. The brushes with the Sherlock Holmes mythos only add to the fun of this tale, and readers are bound to fall in love with Evelina and the London she inhabits.”—Philippa Ballantine, author of Geist
 
“Holloway’s clever writing, attention to detail, and sublime characters forge a fascinating world that combines brass-plated steampunk technology with magic.”—Susan Griffith, author of the Vampire Empire series

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Ever since childhood, Emma Jane Holloway refused to accept that history was nothing but facts imprisoned behind the closed door of time. Why waste a perfectly good playground coloring within the time lines? Accordingly, her novels are filled with whimsical impossibilities and the occasional eye-blinking impertinence—but always in the service of grand adventure.
 
An award-winning author of both historical and urban-fantasy romance, Holloway has an honors degree in English literature. Writing as Sharon Ashwood, she won the RITA award for paranormal romance for the third book of her Dark Forgotten series. She lives in the Pacific Northwest and is owned by the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter One

London, September 16, 1889

Ladies’ College of London

7:10 a.m. Monday

“You are not welcome here,” said the man in the quietly understated brown suit. “Forgive my blunt speech, but I cannot make it any more plain. Those of us on the faculty have established policies.”

Those of us on the faculty. That meant this man who had interrupted her work was a professor. Evelina Cooper gripped her notebook until her knuckles hurt, wishing it was heavy enough to knock reason into his head. Surely he could see the equipment in this place was infinitely superior to what they had at the Ladies’ College. And what harm was there in her using it? She wasn’t in anyone’s way.

The man waited for her to acknowledge his words—no doubt expecting swift obedience—but Evelina couldn’t look at him. A painful knot lodged at the back of her throat, like a stillborn wail of frustration.

“I am happy to assist you in clearing away this equipment,” he offered, “and we’ll say no more about this incident.”

Stubbornness made her stall, and she fiddled with the photograph slipping out from between the pages of her book, tucking it back into place. It was of her uncle Sherlock, his likeness no doubt at home between the ruled pages of formulae and lecture notes. If someone had tried to toss Sherlock Holmes out of a lab, he would have knocked the offender down. But young ladies were expected to be meek and mild.

Marginal politeness was a more attainable goal. “Your offer of assistance is kind, sir, and yet I don’t understand why I can’t use this facility.”

“I think you do. None of the sciences are required for a Lady’s Certificate of Arts.” He swept a hand around the laboratory. “Therefore, all this is unnecessary for students of the female college.”

“I protest that logic, sir.” It came out stiff with displeasure, but Evelina knew she had lost.

“Miss, be reasonable.”

“I am perfectly reasonable, sir, which is why I am astonished by this restriction.” Evelina twisted her silver bracelets around, fingers alive with agitation.

Her gaze searched the high-ceilinged room, though there was nothing to find in the gray shadows. The laboratory, with its rows of tables and shelves of gleaming equipment, was empty this early in the morning. Most of the students were still groping for their second cup of tea. And the fact that the door to the lab had been locked hadn’t slowed her down for more than half a minute.

He gave her a hard look from under beetling eyebrows. He wasn’t one of the creaky old dons of the University of Camelin—not yet, anyhow—but he had perfected the glower. “Perhaps you should consider something in the line of elocution or moral philosophy.”

Evelina bit her tongue. Do my morals appear to need philosophy, sir? Outside of picking the lock, that is?

The man harrumphed at her silence. “Domestic management, then. Or maybe literature.” He pronounced the latter with a curl of the lip.

Evelina looked away before her temper led her down a regrettable path. She had powers this man had no idea about. She could command spirits of earth and tree. She had dabbled in sorcery and tasted death magic. She had nearly bled to death in a Whitechapel gutter and had made enemies and allies of some of the most powerful men in Mayfair—one of whom had bound her magic to his service with the pretty silver bracelets she was forced to wear. And yet she couldn’t get a seat in a proper chemistry class.

At last, she let out a sigh. “I am an eager student of languages and literature, but I am here to study science.”

“A worthy ambition,” said the man. He might have bottled the tone and put it on the shelf next to the other dangerous acids. “But perhaps the practical work is a little beyond your scope.”

Bugger that. Evelina’s equipment was already set up to begin her exercise. Surely, if she got through it without a mistake, he would see she had a right to be there?

The exercise was of intermediate difficulty, a standard every serious student in the field was expected to know. She reached for the striker and, with a deft movement, lit the gas in the burner. A pale flame sprang to life, and she settled her flask of solution into place. Much depended on getting the exact proportion of alcohol to pure water, and then adding just the right amount of several organic compounds, but she’d measured carefully. “Your kind concerns about my abilities are unfounded, Professor . . . ?” She let the question dangle. The man hadn’t given her his name.

But he knew hers. “Miss Cooper,” he snapped, “turn down that flame at once!”

Months of frustration made her balk. She stiffened her posture and stood her ground. “I am here to study science. Therefore, I require access to equipment and materials.”

More specifically, she was there to learn the connection between science and magic. Evelina’s mother had been gentry, the younger sister of Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, but Evelina’s father had been a commoner and a carrier of magic. She’d yearned all her life to make sense of these two opposing legacies, because surely everything was ruled by the same natural laws. If she understood those, there was much she might understand about herself.

But first she had to learn the basics, which was why she had wanted a higher education. Of any place, a university should have been eager to throw open the doors to new ideas, but all she’d met so far was a wall of cold displeasure. Never mind telling them about her magic—they still hadn’t seen past the fact that she wore petticoats.

There was a tense moment of silence as the gas hissed and bubbles formed at the base of the liquid. The solution heated quickly, but not fast enough to calm her mounting temper. She could hear Professor No-name’s quick, irritated breathing as he hovered uncertainly at her elbow—flummoxed by her insubordination but too outraged to back away.

She felt her stomach coil into an aching knot. Her fingers crushed the heavy, dark fabric of her skirts until she forced them to uncurl and pick up a glass wand, ready to stir her concoction. She kept her features deliberately bland, hoping that as long as she reined in her mood, she would have the upper hand. That always works for Uncle Sherlock.

Finally, No-name spoke. “I will say this one last time. Students of the Ladies’ College of London are not permitted to use the Sir Henry John Bickerton Laboratory for the Advance­ment of Chemical Science.”

“But are we not part of the university, along with the other colleges?” Evelina asked tightly. “I believe our tuition flows to the greater institution.” Except that the students resident at the Ladies’ College experienced shorter academic terms, had access to fewer courses, and were only granted an LCA rather than a proper bachelor’s degree.

“The young men will someday attain positions of economic importance, whereas women will not. Squandering resources where they will never amount to anything is simply poor management.”

Evelina couldn’t stop herself from making a derisive huff as she measured out grains of crystalized aether onto a scale. The lime-green sand pattered into the steel pan. “Perhaps a sound understanding of the volatile properties of sodium bicarbonate will assist me in perfecting my muffins, Professor . . .” She let the name dangle once more, this time more...

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Verlag
Del Rey
Erscheinungsdatum
2013
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0345537203
ISBN 13 
9780345537201
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
672
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Verantwortliche Person
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