A Captain and a Corset

by Mary Wine

  Like someone trying to distract a child—or dupe an innocent.

  “A fine chemise. It will feel so nice against your skin, and there are three silk taffeta petticoats to hold out your skirt.”

  All the better to ensure she sold at a high price. She might refuse—her pride would certainly like her to—but Sophia chewed on her lip as she considered her options.

  An Illuminist Navigator always weighted the situation carefully. Bion certainly did.

  And she was his counterpart.

  “You will make a very pretty picture in this silk brocade; all the men will rush to fill up your dance card,” Yaneta cooed. “Many of the bidders will be attending; surely one of them will become smitten with you. That will not be so bad an arrangement.”

  Sophia could not have disagreed more. But Yaneta’s prattling did bring to mind Bion and the fact that he was her lover.

  “My heart could not bear it,” Sophia said, “for it belongs to Captain Donkova.”

  “You shall have to forget him,” Yaneta cautioned sternly. “You will fall in love again, with the man who takes you away in the morning. You are young; a young heart can heal quickly.”

  The expectation on the maid’s face made Sophia pity the woman once again. She finally understood what Bion had been trying to teach her about fates that were worse than death. The firm belief in Yaneta’s eyes that people could belong to others was sickening. It made Sophia’s stomach churn and her temper flare. But it also made her frantic to escape ending up like the woman, and for that, she needed Bion at her side. Together, they would succeed and she would never leave him behind.

  “I suppose if I am to be parted from him, I shall refuse to feel guilty about taking him for my lover. But I shall have to hope I am not with child, for it would never know its father.”

  Sophia looked down at the ruffle of one of the silk petticoats, but she was also watching Yaneta through her eyelashes. The maid didn’t look startled by her words. Instead, a gleam entered her eyes and a tiny smirk lifted the corners of her lips before she turned and opened another package.

  So the woman was duly reporting Sophia’s every word back to the prince. Good. There was one thing Sophia might depend on and that was that the prince was a greedy man. Afanasi saw only her worth on the black market, so she would do her best to dangle the possibility of a third Navigator beneath his nose. It was a slim chance, but it was just possible that the prince might decide to double his odds by letting Bion spend another night with her.

  Slim. Very slim. Yet it was better than nothing.

  ***

  Russia might have been stuck in the past in some ways, but Prince Afanasi certainly knew a thing or two about hosting a gala ball. Yaneta and her staff set Sophia’s hair perfectly, crowning it with fresh flowers and ribbons. The silk brocade dress had an organ-pleated skirt that the silk petticoats held out flawlessly. The bodice had a deep point and a small waist that fit well once she was tightly laced into the corset. There were small pleats going from her shoulders to midchest and just the right amount of cleavage was on display.

  “Your gentleman will be enthralled by you,” Yaneta cooed.

  A maid set out a pair of sugar-heel shoes with a single strap over the top of her foot to keep the shoe in place while she danced. Sophia lifted the hem of her skirt and petticoats so she might fit her foot into one. It fit well, and the maid knelt down to fasten the strap.

  The last thing Yaneta handed her was a set of long evening gloves. Once, Sophia wouldn’t have dreamed of stepping foot outside her home without a pair on her hands, but that seemed a long time ago.

  She recalled enjoying the feeling of Bion’s skin against her own and a soft blush heated her cheeks. There was no shame in it now; instead, she enjoyed it as she turned and looked at her reflection. The dress was a summer-sky blue and it matched her eyes perfectly. In fact, it accentuated the amber streaks in her eyes. She picked up her glasses and set them in place, the light purple lenses something she enjoyed seeing on her face. Her lips curled up into a smile.

  “The prince will be waiting.”

  Yaneta held out a cream dance card. A silk ribbon dangled from one corner. Sophia slipped it onto her wrist and heard the double doors open. The two maids who stood on either side of them stared at the floor. It was a blunt reminder of how the prince viewed the world and everything in it—including herself. It might crush her confidence if she allowed it to, but she lifted her chin and strode through the open doors. Satisfaction filled her as she descended the grand staircase. Below, the house was lit by Illuminist lamps, the Deep Earth Crystals filling the room with a soft, golden light that didn’t offer any smoke to stain the ornately decorated ceiling.

  The air smelled of flowers. There were greens and blossoms draped along the banisters of the staircase. Her petticoats rustled as she moved, drawing the attention of several men standing guard at the main doorway. They bowed to her and one extended his hand toward the back of the house. Sophia took a moment to look out the open front doors. Night had fallen and there were lanterns placed along the long driveway to welcome the arriving guests.

  The guard moved, blocking her view with his body. Once again he extended his arm toward the ballroom. She heard the music and could smell the scents of fine food, but it did not beckon to her as the night did—freedom.

  But if she wanted it, she would have to outwit her captors. She’d done it once, which meant she could do it again. Would do it again.

  At the base of the staircase, she turned and heard the delicate sound of crystal clinking. Conversation floated through the house as the musicians played. The doors to the ballroom were open and the prince was there to receive his guests—not standing as she might have expected, but once more the man was seated in his throne chair. It was set on a raised platform so that he was at eye level with those greeting him.

  “Who gave her a dance card?” Afanasi complained. “She must be with her companion—sets sell so much better.”

  He looked her up and down with the same critical eye that one might use on a mare. He lifted a hand and indicated that she should turn around. Instead of annoying her, his commands amused her, so she turned and stopped in front of him as he offered her a satisfied smirk. She curled her lips back so he might see her teeth.

  “Impertinent peasant,” he sneered.

  “If that is meant to imply that I am not anything like yourself, I accept the compliment.”

  Someone offered her a soft applause from behind. She turned to discover Bion closing the distance between them without a single tap coming from his polished boots. He was turned out in grand fashion, his vest a dark amber silk that also complemented his newly transformed eyes. He wore a dark overcoat that fit him superbly and a silk cravat was knotted at his neck. He looked over the rim of his purple-tinted glasses at her, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes before he masked it.

  “Try and escape and you will be shot by my men,” the prince informed them. The butler standing behind him didn’t even blink to indicate that he was startled by his master’s words. “I assure you, there are ample men on duty. The people on my land know who their betters are and how to mind their places.”

  The hard tone of certainty in his voice irritated her beyond every lesson her mother had taught her on politeness being absolutely necessary no matter the circumstances. Somehow, she knew her mother would understand. She turned and offered Bion a curtsy.

  “My dear Captain, might you possibly offer me escort? I find I am in desperate need of fresh air. It seems unbearably stuffy here, the company beyond stifling.”

  Bion bent at the waist and offered her his hand with all the polish of a gentleman. The prince grunted, managing to sound like an overgrown child.

  “That was delightfully skillful, my dear,” Bion remarked as they swept into the ballroom and the guests turned to look at them. “I doubt your mother taught s
uch a skill, so I am left wondering just where you learned to insult with such grace.”

  “Fishing for compliments, sir?” She realized she was gripping his hand too tightly but couldn’t seem to defeat the impulse to hold on to him. Had it really only been less than a day since she had watched him being torn away from her in chains?

  Oh yes, her heart was upon her sleeve. Actually, she was sure she had already given it away to Bion.

  “Do you think I crave kind words of praise any less than you do?” He spoke softly, but she heard something in his tone that sounded very much like the same emotion she felt. It may not be true, but it was better than focusing on the blunt details of her current situation. For the moment, she was dressed in her finest and on the arm of the most dashing man present. Being happy was within her grasp; all she had to do was choose to be so.

  “I will be most happy to lavish you with praise tonight if you will indulge me by being my escort.”

  ***

  “We may return for the auction tomorrow, but that is the best I was able to do. The guards weren’t letting anyone not on their guest list through, no matter how good the bribe offered.” Decima climbed into the carriage Lykos had been ordered to remain inside of with a huff. Her frustration matched his own and in a way made it possible for him to dispense with some of the tension that had been hounding him.

  “You have employed far more charm than I ever might have and still we are defeated.”

  Decima shot him a chilling glance from her place on the opposite side of the carriage. The excessive volume of her skirts and petticoat made it necessary for her gown to be draped over his legs. Lykos stretched out his leg, brushing hers slightly.

  “This is not the time for toying with me, Guardian.”

  Lykos used his cane to knock on the wall behind his head. The driver instantly set the horses into motion. The carriage jerked and rocked.

  “I disagree, Guardian Talaska. Toying with you will distract me from the rather primitive experience of riding in a horse-drawn carriage. At least we shall be able to end this visit to the backwaters by tomorrow.”

  “I don’t like leaving here.” Decima moved her leg away and looked out the window. She was studying the grounds, searching for a weakness.

  “If you discover a way out, we should return in more suitable attire to wait there.” Lykos became serious. “Because if there is a way out, my money says Bion will find it.”

  “No faith in you for Sophia?” Decima asked but didn’t give him time to answer. “She might be just what Bion Donkova needs to assist him in an escape.”

  Lykos considered the view for a moment. “Because she might employ charm where Bion tends to forget that the lowest maid might be persuaded to grant mercy to the imprisoned if given a little attention? True.”

  Which was what made Decima a very effective Hunter Guardian. Lykos fought the urge to look at her. She was gowned in rich silk that complemented her emerald green eyes. The fabric puddled around her, making her appear as if she was rising from a garden pool like some fae maiden. She was delicate in appearance but what made her almost irresistible was the strength in her eyes. One never saw it until they were too close to escape. She was like a snow leopard—smaller than their counterparts but no less deadly.

  “What time is the auction?”

  “Sunset. Apparently, the prince likes to stretch his gala celebrations until nearly sunrise. So he won’t be ready to conduct business until late in the day.” She tapped her gloved fingers against her fan. “And yet the telegraph said it was dawn. I cannot help but be suspicious.”

  “So it seems we will have to remain watchful or risk having our Navigators sold out from beneath our noses.”

  ***

  “I do believe you are challenging me, Miss Stevenson.”

  She wasn’t unaccustomed to Bion taking issue with her, but there was an amused twist to his lips that surprised her.

  His eyes narrowed for just a moment when the musicians struck up a waltz and his grin became mocking. “Ah, the opportunity to prove myself.”

  “How so?”

  Bion didn’t answer her. He captured her hand and tugged her toward the dance floor. Years of lessons on etiquette kicked in and she glided along beside him without a single misstep. But her mind was full of doubts as he swept her into the flow of dancers. Her skirts whirled up as he turned her around and around. She looked over his shoulder and then across to the opposite side and back, as her dance teacher had taught her.

  But for the first time she was tempted to look into her partner’s eyes. As she passed the doorway, she caught a glimpse of a guard and there was no more hesitation. She locked gazes with Bion, uncaring of the gossip that might result. Let them see her fascination with him. What mattered most was allowing herself to savor the moment. It might well be her last one in his embrace.

  But she wouldn’t dwell on that now. No.

  Instead, she enjoyed the feeling of his body next to hers, the hard power that seemed to flow from him. He might be dressed in finest silk and wool, but where her hand rested on his shoulder she felt the iron strength of his flesh. His eyes narrowed, the hand resting on the small of her back pulling her closer, as if he couldn’t resist the urge either. Hunger flared in his eyes and she felt a blush teasing her cheeks. His attention dropped to her lips, the tender surface tingling with anticipation.

  But the waltz ended, and the couples around them broke apart as they softly applauded. Bion blew out a breath before stepping back from her. Frustration nipped at her and she was certain she saw the same thing in his eyes. There wasn’t much time for her to think about it because the musicians began a lively polka and Bion’s lips twitched again into an amused grin. He caught her up in the rhythm, and they were sweeping across the polished dance floor once more.

  “You doubted my expertise on the dance floor?”

  The polka left her breathless; the corset was so tightly laced beneath her brocade bodice it restricted her efforts to draw in deep breaths. Bion didn’t really need an answer; the man was quite clearly pleased with his efforts.

  “True, I did doubt your ability to partner me.”

  He lifted her hand and raised it to his lips. For a moment they were once again impossibly close, and this time, her lack of breath had nothing to do with the corset. The cause was the look in his eyes. It would be so simple to believe he was smitten with her.

  “I’m accomplished in moonlight kisses along garden pathways as well. However, I doubt Afanasi’s guards will be kind enough to allow me the opportunity to prove myself.”

  He kissed the back of her gloved hand and retreated to a respectable distance. It was only a single step, yet it felt like a vast canyon separated them. Drawing him back to her was the only thought in her mind.

  “Now, that skill is something you have proven to me, Captain Donkova.”

  He frowned and slowly shook his head. “No, Sophia, I haven’t, to my regret. There has been no sweet courting between us and that is my failing. Perhaps you will be generous enough to allow me to make the most of the evening, since it appears we shall be denied the garden.”

  He settled her hand on his forearm and began to walk her slowly around the room. A few gentlemen tried to step into their path and reach for her dance card but a scowl from Bion sent them away. She let herself become immersed in the moment, ignoring the guards stationed at every doorway. She refused to acknowledge anything except for the feeling of walking on the arm of the man escorting her.

  ***

  “I only want the woman,” Captain Aetos urged. “And I need to be gone before their Illuminist brethren return. Accept my offer and auction the man tomorrow. It was my Root Ball that created him.”

  “The woman is more valuable than the man,” Prince Afanasi countered. “She has confessed to being lovers with her trainer, which means there might be another Navigator growing
inside her.”

  “I need a Navigator now; babies don’t interest me,” Aetos snapped.

  “But they do interest me.” A third man stepped from where he had been standing in the shadows. He ignored Aetos and offered the prince a formal bow. “The offspring of two Navigators is born with its parents’ abilities. Once weaned, it could be raised to be loyal to the Helikeian cause.”

  Dr. Nerval peered through his spectacles at the couple at the other end of the ballroom. For the first time since he’d been forced to flee from Britain over the loss of his newly discovered Pure Spirit Janette Aston, he was excited. “By rights, it was my actions that helped create this Navigator. You should accept my offer for the female and let her spend the night with her lover again.”

  “You have no rights on my land that I do not give you,” the prince insisted. “They will be auctioned tomorrow at midday. Now leave me to my guests and do not let my merchandise see you. I do not want my guests disturbed by their panic.”

  Aetos and Dr. Nerval didn’t care for his orders, but Prince Afanasi smiled as his men stepped forward to ensure his will was done. That was as it should be. The prince’s captain of the guard returned and bowed, obviously wanting to ask a question.

  “Yes?”

  The guard straightened. “We told the Illuminist members the auction was at sunset as you instructed.”

  Prince Afanasi stood up and descended from the platform his chair was positioned on. He stopped and allowed his valet to straighten his vest and help him into an overcoat. Only when his manservant had bowed did Afanasi answer.

  “This auction is about more than gold. The Illuminists might be able to best the other bidders in that but not in connections. They hold to their Oaths of Allegiance too strictly for what I want.”