The Merchant of Dreams (Night's Masque, #2)(131)

"Perhaps you could get work in a printer's shop," Gabriel replied. "I hear they need men with a keen eye to set the lettering."

Ned made a rude noise. "I'm too old for an apprenticeship. No, I shall have to rent out the house and hope that brings in enough to keep me."

"I shall earn enough to keep us both," Gabriel said cheerily. "Between my acting and what I can get for my plays–"

"You don't want to be bothered with an old cripple like me."

"No, I don't."

Ned turned to stare at his lover. Gabriel folded his arms and glowered. It made him look like one of the sterner archangels, barring sinners from the gates of Heaven.

"No?"

"Not if you're going to wallow in self-pity all day, I don't." Gabriel sighed. "You're alive, aren't you? That's more than can be said for some."

"Ah, but Kiiren's not really dead, is he?"

"You believe Sandy has found him, reborn as a Venetian child?"

Ned shrugged. "I leave all that uncanny business to him and Mal."

Footsteps sounded on the stairs outside, then came a knock at the door.

"Come in," they both cried out together.

Hendricks – or Mina, as they were now supposed to call her – came in, carrying a large wooden box. Ned still wasn't used to seeing her in women's clothes and kept expecting her to revert to her old ways, but seemingly Mal had tamed her after all.

"What's that?" Gabriel asked as she set the box down on one of the empty beds.

"A gift for Master Faulkner," she said with a grin. "Something for him to wear to the wedding."

The two men exchanged glances.

"Surely it's Gabe you should be buying the fine apparel for," Ned said at last. "No one wants to look at me."

"Oh, I think they will." She clicked open the two latches, then stepped to one side. "Go on, then. Don't you want to know what it is?"

"Very well, since you are so desperate to tell me." He walked over to the bed, lifted the lid, and whistled.

"What is it?" Gabriel peered over his shoulder. "Oh, sweet Jesu!"

It was an arm. Or rather, the lower half of an arm, with a hand attached. Made of brass and steel, all cunningly worked like fine armour.

"Well, what do you think?"

Ned shook his head in wonder. "Where did you get such a thing?"

"I designed it," she said. "Well, I borrowed some ideas from a book I read at Master Quirin the clockmaker's, and then Raleigh commissioned it from one of the best armorers in Venice."

She lifted it out of the box to demonstrate.

"See, you strap this end onto… your arm, and then with your other hand you can slide this lever–" she pointed to a protuberance on the inside of the prosthesis' forearm "– and the fingers close, thus."

The fingers did indeed fold into the palm with a clank.

"Ingenious," Gabriel said softly.

"Then slide it back and the hand opens again. It uses lodestones." She pointed out the cobbled appearance of the palm. "The armourer embedded the leftover beads from Sandy's old spirit-guard. It's not like he needs them any more, now he has his necklace back."

"Will it protect me from guisers?" Ned asked.

She laughed. "I don't think so. But you can always hit them with it and find out."

"It's… too princely a gift." He ran a finger over the smooth, cold metal. For an instant he felt an answering touch on his missing hand. Skrayling magic, or his imagination? "Surely it must have cost a fortune. I will never pay off such a debt."

"No need. I sold the drawings to Quirin for his collection, and Raleigh was so pleased with it that he's commissioned a life-sized automaton to give to the Queen."

"Thank you," Gabriel said, embracing her, and for once Ned felt no jealousy. Hendricks was just a girl, after all.

Getting married was all very well in theory, but there was the small issue that neither Coby nor Mal was a member of any parish in Venice. Nor did she wish to convert to Catholicism, despite Mal's assurance that being of the Old Faith was not in itself against the law in England. She had been raised a Lutheran, and she would not put aside her faith for any man, even a husband.

In the end it was agreed that they would follow English common law and make their vows before witnesses, then seek a church blessing once they were back in England. With an ambassador and a member of Parliament to vouch for them, no one could question the validity of the arrangement.

They assembled in the ambassador's tiny garden under the pomegranate tree. Coby wore a plain respectable gown and Mal his best doublet and hose. Berowne had put on courtly garb of silk brocade and velvet, and Gabriel and Ned had embellished their everyday outfits with new cloaks and plumed hats. Coby noted with satisfaction that Ned was wearing his false hand, though it was hardly noticeable with the sleeve of his doublet pulled down. She made a note to herself to suggest to Mal that they buy him a pair of gloves for Christmas.

"Is Raleigh not joining us?" Mal asked, looking around.

"He said he had an errand to run, and would be back forthwith," Berowne replied.

"Perhaps we ought to wait for him," Coby said reluctantly. She had no particular desire for Raleigh to be at her wedding, even if he did make an impeccable witness.