by Kacey Ezell
The nobleman’s smile was like the dawn. “My son,” he murmured, and reached out to gather the young man close in the embrace he so craved.
Matthias wept for a moment longer, his battered heart overflowing with bitter sadness and unexpected joy. Then he did as he was bidden and kissed his father’s hands in farewell before leaving the carriage.
* * * * *
Chapter 9
Duke Etienne Delsarte pored over the documents and invoices spread before him on the massive polished oak desk. With a delicate gesture, he picked up the repair invoice from the Leeuwin. He scanned the list of charges scrawled on the parchment. A shocking sum. With a snort of disgust, he set it down and turned his attentions to other documents.
Maybe, just maybe, if people paid their shipping orders, the necklace with the attendant damage it had wrought wouldn’t completely destroy him. He gulped down the last of his cooling cup of tea and stretched in his chair. His aging body’s muscles and bones felt the pull of years more and more as they passed by. Etienne closed his eyes and breathed deeply, composing his thoughts for a moment. A soft tapping at his office door broke the silence.
“Sir, Captain Johannes de Graaf is here to see you.”
“I don’t recall that I have business with him but bring him up.” Etienne slipped the repair invoice under a stack of maps, tidied the rest of his desk, then adjusted his coat and tie.
Captain de Graaf strode into the room and past Etienne’s assistant, a young man from the Naval Academy. De Graaf gave the assistant a polite, cursory nod as they passed each other.
“Good evening, Duke Delsarte.” Johannes de Graaf held out his hand to the duke. “Forgive my boldness, but we have some matters to discuss. Namely, the matter of the damages to my ship. I hope we can settle this and continue our partnership.”
Etienne maintained a neutral face and gestured to the chair across the desk. “And you believe I should foot the bill?” The Immortal man sat down, smiling ever so slightly, fangs showing, and not taking his eye off Etienne for a second. Etienne stifled a burst of coughing and gulped water from a glass at his desk.
“Indeed, you should. We’ve done business for a long time. I’d like to continue that arrangement. I brought you the necklace, the one pirates attempted to board my vessel and steal. I would’ve hired more security, had I known fully the risk it brought. No one was to know it was on board. You misled me. We can settle up and consider this all water under the bridge,” Johannes stated matter of fact, tapping one pale finger on the desk slowly. Tap. Tap. No point in niceties. Just forthright, wasting neither man’s valuable time.
“You carry expensive cargo often. This was no exception,” Etienne replied. “I’ve seen the shipping manifests for the cargo you’ve carried for me in past. I don’t know why the Leeuwin was fired upon this time. I can’t cover the bill. It’s the cost of doing business.”
Johannes smiled politely, but cold. He drew in a deep breath. “Your cost. Not mine.
“You could sell the cursed necklace. Lady Lucia seems to be indifferent to its existence. I suspect she’s not really swayed by trinkets and baubles. Perhaps a book of poetry would be more to her liking, and safer to transport.”
Etienne huffed. “You claim to know my daughter so well? I suggest you think before you overstep your bounds into affairs that don’t concern you.”
“We had tea. We went to the theatre. I saved the damnable necklace from pickpockets at the music hall. I enjoy her company, which you know. You gave your permission to our acquaintance, if you’ll recall. To your credit, she’s well educated and a clever conversationalist. The Sources at the docks are…less convivial, but I don’t hire them for conversation.” Johannes smiled, goading Etienne a little. “Sell the necklace. We’ll split the cost. Lucia gets a third, I get a third for repairs, and you get a third as a lesson in foolishness.”
Etienne pulled the repair bill from the files and scrawled notes on it in his bold, angular handwriting.
“Fine. Take this to the dockmaster. I’ll send the necklace to the Auction House.” Etienne affixed his stamp to the agreement and slid the papers over to Johannes.
“The Auction House? You won’t get half of what it’s worth here in the city. If you trust me, I know a buyer who’ll double the price you paid. He’s five days flight from here. I can have the funds back for you in a fortnight.”
Etienne looked at the Immortal across from him, then slowly smiled. “Was this your plan all along?”
“Let’s instead say that this was an alternate plan. My buyer is a collector of unusual pieces, and rich as Croesus.”
Etienne pursed his lips, then nodded. “You’ve always played me fair, Captain. And if you don’t return with the funds, you won’t have the repairs your ship needs. That’s acceptable collateral, I’d say. Shall we shake on it?” he said, holding out the necklace in one hand, and extending the other.
Johannes took the necklace box with his left hand and gripped the duke’s right hand with his own.
“Indeed,” he said.
“Thank you,” Johannes said as he pocketed the duke’s notes to the dockmaster regarding the bill and rose from his chair. “I knew we’d come to an understanding. It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.” He bowed slightly.
Etienne watched as the tall Immortal man headed for the door. “By the way, de Graaf? I told you before. I don’t mind that you socialize with my daughter in the early evening hours but have her home by midnight. Conduct yourself with discretion and respect. Not everyone is thrilled these days that the Immortals come here. Lucia’s an adult, and I expect you to be on your absolute best behavior, or I’ll see to it the NightShip crews are confined to every port and shut down your dockyard dalliances. Lucia is not for you to use and discard, shamed.”
“Absolutely. No harm will come to her under my watch. She’s well able to take care of herself in that regard,” Johannes replied. “I’ll break the news of the necklace to her when I see her next.”
Etienne nodded, coughing again. “Let me handle it. Have a very nice stay in Marinport. I’m pleased we could sort this out.”
After Johannes left, Duke Delsarte poured himself a generous measure of rum to still his cough and quiet the headache. Dealing with Captain de Graaf always left him with a headache. He’d heard rumors the Immortals could sway thought, but he was never certain whether Johannes de Graaf possessed or used the ability.
Could have driven a harder bargain. What’s done is done. Etienne sat back down in his leather chair with a heavy sigh.
* * *
“Father, are you all right? I just saw de Graaf stride out of the foyer. I meant to tell you—” Lucia stepped into the office, concern on her face.
“Quite all right. Just business matters. It’s nothing to be concerned about. How’s Amelia?” Duke Delsarte leaned back in his chair and gestured for Lucia to come in and have a seat.
“Fine. We got the shipment of medicines to the Order and helped out for a while. Nowhere near the sick. Moving furniture—they needed more bed space—and helping in the kitchen. Amelia’s so tired, I worry she’ll come down with the fever herself. I took her out to have a proper meal and a break. This sickness shows no sign of abating.” Lucia sat as still as could be in the chair and fought the urge to fidget nervously. Twenty-six years old, yet in front of her father, Lucia still felt like a child sometimes. He wasn’t an unkind father; he was generous to a fault and more forgiving than some of her colleagues’ parents by far.
“I know the captain well. I trust you, and I expect you to respect that. I didn’t raise a foolish girl,” Delsarte replied, correctly guessing the source of his daughter’s disquiet. “Just be careful. Others are watching. Reputations are embellished when people talk. I don’t wish to see you wind up like Remy’s son. The dockyard workers say he wanders the docks, hooked on the Immortal bite, and on opium, whichever he can find.”
Lucia nodded. “We’re just friends, Father. De Graaf helped bring the medicin
es to the Order, even donning a robe to help the Brothers the other night. Heavy lifting. He kept his head down and worked as hard as the rest,” Lucia replied, watching her father pour a small measure of rum for each of them.
“I try not to forget you’re an adult with a life of your own. Too often, to me, you’re still the small lass who had me fix the ribbons in her hair and search the wardrobe for ghosts. Thank you for reminding me I raised a clever woman. I’m surprised the Eventides let de Graaf on the grounds.”
“Amelia and I convinced Mother Claude he could move all the furniture around in half the time the Brothers could.” Lucia sipped at the rum, the warmth quite pleasant as the liquid burned on the way down. “You should rest. I heard you coughing.”
“You get some rest, too, my dear. You’ve been up late, between the Eventides and tea-time with de Graaf. Perhaps keep your distance from the plague wards. Just for my peace of mind.” Duke Delsarte came around the desk to hug his daughter and send her on her way.
Just as Lucia reached the threshold to his office, Duke Delsarte called out.
“Ah, before you go, daughter. De Graaf wanted to tell you, but I thought you should hear it from me. We’re going to sell the necklace and split the cost. You mentioned it was just too much, and well, the damages to de Graaf’s ship were far more substantial than we realized. Some of the funds go to you; spend it how you wish.”
Lucia paused. “Ah. Yes, that’s fair. It was a magnet for thieves. I’ll buy something a little more me with it. Mother and I can go out for the day; she’ll love spending the day in the goldsmiths’ shops.” The necklace was no bother to her. A surprise, but where else would she wear the lavish piece?
“I was hoping you’d understand. Thank you. I regret the foolishness. It caused more trouble than it was worth.”
“I can meet up and hand over the necklace to de Graaf,” Lucia offered, with a sly grin. “I mean, you need to rest and tend to that cough. I wouldn’t want you out on the cold streets.”
Duke Delsarte chuckled, a deep, throaty laugh. “He was going to tell you anyway. Go have an evening with him. He has the necklace already, worry no more about it.”
* * *
Duke Delsarte found Lucia in the small library at home sometime later.
“Beloved daughter.” He set a card and a bundle of daisies wrapped with red ribbon on the table. “De Graaf and I have come to further agreements, and he sends an invitation by way of your father to a dance tomorrow night. I’ll clear it with your mother; she’ll attend as your chaperone.”
“You know de Graaf will be there, and we’ll dance.” Lucia grinned. “Why the change of heart?”
“I trust de Graaf, and I trust you. I can’t really stop you from seeing him, as you clearly have ways to accomplish that with clever subterfuge of your own. I don’t wish to see you serving down at the docks, and neither does he.” Duke Delsarte sat down across from Lucia and looked at the texts on the table. “Antiquities of Italy?”
“For some artifacts we got in this week at the museum. Light reading. It would be lovely to see all these in person someday.” Lucia grinned.
“We took you sailing when you were young. I think we may have primed you for a life of wandering. I don’t wish to drive you away over this. So, against propriety, I’m continuing to give you permission to socialize discreetly in public with de Graaf under the guise of this dance. Just be smart, my clever girl.”
Lucia listened and nodded. “I understand. Can you do something about the wretched, dreary suitors Mother seems to find? One more insufferable garden party with a man less interesting than a turnip, and I’ll find myself being quite unladylike in temper. There’s not enough wine to get through those events.”
“I’m not a miracle worker, my love. I’ll try. You may well have to play along with her matchmaking attempts.”
* * *
Lucia returned to her rooms. As she approached her suite, she noticed the door was ajar. She called out for her lady servant, but there was no answer. Emme must have retired for the night. Lucia shrugged, closed the door, and went to fetch her nightgown.
There on the bed lay a red silk gown, with silver and gold embroidery. A note card lay on top.
Something worthy of dancing the night away. —Pere.
There was a soft knock at the door. Lucia hurried over to answer.
“I figured perhaps if you simply stopped his heart, problem solved,” Duke Delsarte explained. “I didn’t expect it to arrive so soon, but fortuitously, here it is. Are you at the Eventides or the Archive tomorrow?”
“Neither. I’m helping Mother all day. I’ll be too exhausted to dance, if she knows de Graaf may attend. Thank you, the dress is beautiful. I love it.”
* * *
The court dance had just started up as de Graaf strode into the hall. Ladies and gentlemen in their finest gathered around tables laden with delicacies or danced across the open floor, laughing and talking. The colors of the ladies’ ball gowns shifted and glowed in the candlelight as the music swirled all around. Court dances tended to be far more vibrant than a musical performance. Here and there, small nooks in the city’s central gathering hall sheltered whispered discussions and stolen kisses. De Graaf, like many others, turned his head and allowed the heady scent of revelry to carry his thoughts toward a hoped-for flirtation later on.
So long as it’s only flirtation and causes no harm to any reputations, or virtue, he cautioned himself, people will turn a polite blind eye.
“This is stunning.” Marit beamed as she looked around the room, eyes glinting with excitement. De Graaf admired the flowing gown of exotic green silk she’d purchased at a port of call months ago, hoping for some occasion to wear the dress. De Graaf had half expected her to show up on duty in it when they missed social event after social event in port.
“I don’t get much call to go out dancing. We’re never in port long enough. A hole blasted in the side of the ship has some small perks.”
“I understand. The life of a mortal medic on the ships can be grueling. Go, charm them, and we’ll take a carriage back to the ship when it’s over and sleep off the excess. A well-earned evening. I told Florian we’d be back by sunrise.”
“Tell him I might be back by noon,” Marit replied with a saucy grin. “Lady Lucia just walked in, and if you don’t get over there, it’ll be sunrise before you get a moment with her.” She nodded her blonde head in the direction of the entryway.
De Graaf watched as Lucia walked in, resplendent in a red silk ball gown, and handed her coat to a servant. She paused only a moment to catch his gaze with a delighted smile. Suitors approached from all sides and bowed as they made introductions and requested dances. Lucia was besieged—perhaps a little annoyed—as she dealt with the cluster of men as politely as could be. Once a few of the suitors stepped away, de Graaf strode up to her and bowed deeply toward her and her chaperones, Duke Etienne and Edith Delsarte.
“Good evening, Duke, Duchess, might I have a dance with the Lady Lucia at some point this evening?”
“I can speak for myself, Captain. Yes, I’d like that very much.” Lucia nodded and bowed. “I’m momentarily spoken for and must go dance. I’ll find you.” Lucia accepted the offer of her first dance partner’s arm and breezed out onto the dance floor.
De Graaf stood by the Delsartes, watching the crowd.
“How are the repairs coming, Captain?” Edith Delsarte asked.
“Slowly, but we should be departing in under a week. I’m hoping to do one last run before taking on the southern routes for winter,” de Graaf replied as he reached for a glass of wine from a servant carrying a tray and carafe.
“I don’t care to sail in the North in winter. The Leeuwin is not a winter ship. My colleague on the Sund will take the route for the city. I have some expenses to make up for. We’ll be flying lean this winter, but we’ll survive.”
“Some would suggest, if they saw you with Lucia, that you might be trying to curry more favor with me or lure
Lucia away in lieu of payment,” Duke Delsarte commented.
“Heavens, no. We came to an honorable agreement on repairs. What do you take me for?” de Graaf replied as he handed the Delsartes cups of tea deftly snatched from a passing server’s tray with his quick reflexes.
“The reputation of Immortals isn’t without some merit,” Duke Delsarte replied.
* * *
Lucia returned at a break in the music, her cheeks flushed as red as her gown with the heat of the room and the effort of dancing. Stray curls floated free of her elaborately pinned coif. De Graaf stifled a smile at her flushed, disheveled look. He didn’t want to appear mocking. She looked so vibrant; how could someone dare to temper that vitality?
“I need a moment, then you may request your dance, Captain.” Lucia picked up a glass of wine and sipped. Her chest heaved, breathless with merriment.
“That would be lovely. When you’re ready.” De Graaf remained where he was, watching the dancers on the floor swirling around to the musicians’ stately playing. Marit was having the time of her life and waved to de Graaf from across the room.
From the entryway, he spotted Remy Elidon lurking at the fringes of the crowd clutching a trio of roses. He was dressed for the event, but he seemed displeased to be there. Had Remy ever been anything but a dour man?
“Captain?” Lucia stood before him, tapped his arm with her silk-gloved hand, and broke his wandering thoughts.
“Absolutely, Lady Lucia.” De Graaf bowed and took Lucia’s arm to lead her to the dance floor as heads turned to watch. “One dance, perhaps two, and then I’ll go to my ship, sick with longing. I hope the band plays for a century.”
Lucia laughed. “I don’t. One dance here and now, before my reputation is besmirched. I can feel everyone staring at me. This is scandalous enough. The city women will be gossiping over their breakfasts by sunrise if you don’t move your hand.” Lucia moved the captain’s hand to a more acceptable height on her waist.