The Marriage Machine by Patricia Simpson

I here?”
    Aunt Fi glanced at the door and frowned. “Your husband said he would prefer that you stay with me until you came to your senses.”
    “Oh.” That didn’t seem normal to Elspeth, but she was glad for the breach of protocol. The last thing she wanted was to try to be nice to a stranger when all she could think about was Mark and Miss Lipstick together and how depressed that made her.
    Depressed ? Wait a minute. She should not be sad if she had spent the allotted time in the Marriage Machine. Something was not right.
    “Are you sure I’m married?”
    Aunt Fi nodded. “I saw it with my own eyes, dear.”
    “Who did I marry? Did you recognize him?”
    “He asked that he remain anonymous until you come to your senses.”
    “I’ve come to my senses.” Elspeth said. “I never lost my senses. That’s what everybody doesn’t understand.” She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, careful not to touch the bump on her skull, and looked over at her aunt.
    “How long have I been sleeping?”
    “Since the wedding last night.”
    “Maybe they’re still in town then.”
    “Who, dear?”
    “The Ramsays.” She headed for the stairs. “I have to go, Aunt Fi. Mark Ramsay promised to take me to the Outer Islands. And I’m going to hold him to his word—if they haven’t left already.”
    “Do you think that’s wise? You’ve had quite a bump on the head.”
    Elspeth nodded. “I have to, Aunt Fi. I can’t be married to someone I don’t love. It will never work. I won’t be happy. And I will make my husband unhappy. I would rather live in the wilderness than face that kind of life. And I intend to go before your calmness of marriage descends upon me.”
    “But the Outer Islands, Elspeth?” Her aunt looked at her and sighed. “I will never see you!”
    “Oh Aunt Fi.” Elspeth wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You will. The world is changing. I’ve ridden in a Flying Horse—did you know that? I bet one day, they’ll be all over the city, and people will be able to travel again.”
    “In my time?” Her aunt drew back.
    “Without a doubt.” Elspeth kissed her on the cheek. “But for now, I must go.”
    “I understand, dear. But do be careful.”
    Elspeth nodded and hurried up to her tiny room, packed a bag, and slipped out of the house into a wonderland of snow.
     
    Elspeth stopped in the middle of the square, and slowly turned around, thunderstruck. The ground was covered in white fluff three feet deep. The sky was clear of fog and blue—as blue as, as blue as Mark Ramsay’s eyes. The air smelled fresh and clean and full of promise—almost as if the world had been born anew.
    Elspeth gaped at her surroundings and sucked in a deep breath of the cool crisp air. The world was different. But by some quirk of Fate, she was still the same old Elspeth, with the same old fire and determination. She knew nothing inside her had changed. Though the thought puzzled her, she set off at a quick trot, her tools clanking in her backpack, her spirits high.

Chapter Eight
     
    The moment Elspeth caught sight of the townhouse by the greenbelt, her spirits plummeted. It was plain to see she would not have a private audience with Mark. The entire Ramsay family was leaving. Three small steam cars chugged at the side of the road as the family loaded their bags in the back. Alexander sat in his wheelchair at the end of the walkway of the house, waving his cane and obviously fully recovered from his lapse at Boswellian Bower. Mark’s mother was opening the door of the car in front, ready for Alexander to be loaded into it. Someone else, probably Thomas, worked at the third vehicle, loading bags and equipment. Mark guided Madame Lipstick toward the second vehicle, holding her on his arm and taking great care that she didn’t slip on the icy walk.
    Steam puffed into the chilly air, obliterating their faces. Elspeth was glad. She didn’t want to discover the truth, that Mark was now happily