Chapter Sixteen - Disappointingly Crafty

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The Lincoln Family were a well known family of Aristocrats, who could recite the names of Lords within their line back to the third Princess Charlotte Francis Georgia Royal, daughter of King Erik the Seventh and his second wife Queen Genevieve. Though her royal status was low and her hope of becoming queen was zero to none, the Lincoln's still found value in this heritage. Her husband, the first Lincoln was actually the second son of a minor noble, but due to recognised service to crown and country, was given land and title ranked higher than his good father and elder brother heir. Though their line remained mostly unbroken, it was not without it's curves, with a second cousin marrying into the main line where no son was born, the occasional adoption of a nephew and once a whole generation skipped in favour of an extremely talented grandson. This showed that it was not uncommon for aristocratic families to have branch families, though most dwindled into obscurity. The Lincoln-Kay branch were not one of these.

Edward Lincoln-Kay (they kept the main branch name for pride and connection value and their own name to show their lesser status so feathers remained unruffled), was a highly successful merchant and acquirer of art, antiquities and rarities that he might pass on to hands of avid collectors; a middleman of sorts. His wife was a beauty of a very minor noble family that he had snatched cunningly away before the eyes of the aristocracy could fall upon her. His was a marriage of love not convenience. She blessed him early with a son before many years passed and she fell pregnant again with twins; a second son and lone daughter. They were very happy with their lot in life.

Over the years, Edward had found and supplied many converted artworks to the hands of Lord Thomas and so was grateful, but unsurprised regarding the invitation to the soirée addressed to himself and his wife, such 'generosity' towards a man of his status was simply a way of expressing a want for continued good business relations. What had the man raise his eyebrows a tad, was the extended invitation to his children. Nellie was quite the catch, considering she had inherited her mother's beauty and Amadeus was clever and witty and moulding into a fine heir. The problem, Edward believed, lie in Cornelius.

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Cornelius pouted and tugged at his silken cravat for the umpteenth time as the bouncing carriage stumbled over another rock, jolting its occupants and causing his buttocks another bruising. If they had just let him examine and tweak the underside of the carriage, he was certain he could create something to transform this awful way to travel into something much more pleasant. But such hands on work was considered beneath his station and his proposal fell, like all others before it, on flat ears. Not deaf ears, for his father always listened before the lecture of his place, status and duty began. He had just accepted the lecture, head bowed. He knew he was a disappointment to his father, as despite his brilliance with mathematics and beautiful handwriting, his head for business was sorely lacking and his small hobby considered an embarrassment.

They arrived at the Manor in a timely fashion, where they were greeted by the Lord and Lady, before his father was swept away to talk business and his mother left to talk about fashion with Lady Katrina. As she left, Cornelius heard several Lords lament again that they had not found the still beautiful woman first. Minutes later, Nellie was surrounded and led a way by a gaggle of silly girls and Amadeus left of his own accord to create and strengthen the contacts he would require when taking over their father's business. Left alone, in amongst strangers and suffering tittering glances by maidens less than subtle with their criticisms of his person, Cornelius immediately felt uncomfortable and sought the quiet of the Manor gardens.

He retreated to the shadows of a great oak tree, he was not one for sunlight, preferring his personal library and workshop. There he continued what, for all intents and purposes, was sulking. He had just received the cylinder for the music box he was working on for his sister from the clocksmith and was inspecting it to ensure the tiny studs were correctly positioned before he had been forced to attend the party of the show off Lord. If it was perfect, for the previous three attempts were failures, he would be able to assemble it for her birthday. He could recreate mechanisms that he had disassembled perfectly, but creating something from scratch brought more trials and tribulations. If only he could oversee the creation of the parts or make them himself...

The clocksmith was an old friend, who'd once treated him like an honorary apprentice, before his father had found out and banned him from visiting the craftsman. And he was not the first craftsman to have taught the boy and was not the last. Eventually, his father had hired a tutor to teach and watch him the whole day to put an end to his escapades. It was then his talent for maths surfaced and now his father swamped him with the accounts to reduce the time he spend with his beloved mechanisms.

As he was staring at the patio almost blindly, a tall, swarth figure appeared. He caught Cornelius's eye as his clothing was not as ostentatious as the others attending, choosing to adorn himself in midnight blue rather than vivid red, verdant green or rich gold. The touch of silver was possibly all that announced his status beyond the fine cut of the cloth. But what truly caught his attention was the unique pocket watch the young man drew from his pocket. Like a moth to a flame, Cornelius found himself near flying over to examine it closer and possibly would have unashamedly snatched it away from the other's hands had that young man not taken an unstable step backwards, causing Cornelius to pause.

Thus instead, he cleared his throat, while still staring at the timepiece longingly. "What a remarkable piece," he said, his hands still twitching and inching forth. "I've never seen the like. How does it perform? Does it lose much time? Do you have any idea in regards to it's manufacturer?" Finally he glanced at the handsome cut face of the man he addressed and did not fail to notice the odd almost pained look of longing in the other man's eyes. "Hmm... are you alright?"

Author's note; I didn't plan to write this chapter, it decided itself. So I'll probably start the actual planned chapter in a bit, so this might be a double update today... then again it might not!

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