A Clockwork Fairytale

by Helen Scott Taylor

  “Why?” Dante’s startled gaze shot up to her.

  “I want to wear his togs.” She plucked at the huge puffy skirts of her Great Earth Day costume. “I can’t be doing with this stupid dress anymore. I can’t even walk in it properly.”

  Together they stripped off the man’s jacket and shirt while the little dog busily sniffed him, but when Melba reached for the guard’s belt buckle Dante grabbed her wrist. “I’ll remove the trousers.”

  “I’ve seen a man’s bits before, you know,” Melba said with a hint of exasperation. “I ain’t some wishy-washy maid.”

  “What do you think Turk will say if he found out you undressed a man?”

  Melba rolled her eyes but grabbed the shirt and headed back to the laboratory. She didn’t want to upset Turk, even if it was a big fuss over nothing. Men got all steamed up over their funny little floppy bits as if they were something special.

  She circled the table examining Vittorio’s laboratory apparatus, wondering how he made Foul Jinns. “Don’t touch anything,” Dante said as he came in with the trousers.

  “I weren’t going to. I ain’t stupid.” She moved the lantern along the table and they both stared at the bubbling black tarry substance in the bottom of a glass pot. Melba shivered. “How did your brother get to be so bad?”

  Dante closed his eyes and released an agonized breath. “I tried to stop him when he first started raising Foul Jinns. Back then, when he was a ship’s captain, we had a house together in the second circle. I walked out in protest, hoping that would make him stop. Instead he let me leave rather than curtail his experiments.”

  His voice grew husky with emotion and Melba put her arm around him. “He were a fool to let you go, Dante.”

  “That wasn’t the start of it, Melba.” He grimaced uncomfortably. “Vittorio was the one who stole you from the Palace and left you with the baker.”

  “Great Earth Jinn, I knew it,” Turk said, halting in the doorway.

  A strange tremor passed through Melba. She steadied herself with a hand on the edge of the table. Vittorio had changed the course of her life, yet she didn’t feel angry or hurt by the knowledge, just off-center as if someone had turned her upside down and she couldn’t get her bearings. If he hadn’t stolen her from the Palace, she would have grown up to be a different person. Despite all the hardships over the years, she liked who she was.

  Turk came to her and wrapped her in his arms. “You all right, love?”

  She nodded against his chest.

  With an angry grunt, Dante swept a wooden crate of apples onto the floor. “Why did all this have to happen?” He was silent for a few moments while the dog yapped, chasing apples across the flagstones. Dante dragged in a breath. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you about Vitto sooner.”

  “Yes,” Turk bit out. “You should have.”

  “It weren’t your fault.” Melba put a reassuring hand on Dante’s arm.

  After a few minutes, Turk sighed. “Melba’s right. You’re not to blame for what Vittorio did.” He brushed the hair back off Melba’s face and looked down at her. “All right?” When she smiled, he released her. “We need to leave. When Vittorio doesn’t find me at the monastery or Waterberry House he might come back here.”

  “Give me a mo. I want to change.” Melba picked up a dagger from the bench and tested its edge. She hacked off the bottom of the borrowed trousers and halved the length of the shirtsleeves to fit her. “Turn your backs, gentlemen,” she said with a grin.

  She hooked the point of the blade inside the bodice of her dress and slit the fine silk with a satisfying tearing sound before stepping out of the ruined garment. Vittorio had chosen the flamboyant costume to match his Earth King suit and she had never much liked it. She pulled on the guard’s linen shirt and fine wool trousers over her underdress and drawers, tying the leather belt in a knot because it was too long. Then she tucked the knife in her belt.

  She followed Dante and Turk out into the corridor with the dog trotting along at her heels. Turk dragged the guard into the laboratory and closed the door. Then the three of them climbed down through the manhole to the level below and lifted the dog down.

  “Where are we heading?” Dante asked as they started down the steps in the huge echoing chamber at the heart of the flood defense system.

  “When Vittorio discovers Melba has escaped he’ll tear the city apart to find her,” Turk said. “We have to hide in a place he would never think of looking for her.”

  “You have somewhere in mind, don’t you?” Melba knew the tiny smile pulling at the corners of Turk’s mouth.

  “Aye,” Turk said and ran down the rest of the steps.

  ***

  They emerged from the flood pipes in the third circle as close to the Red House as Turk could get them. It was midmorning so the alleys and lanes were busy, but the brothel was shuttered and quiet.

  “I delivered messages here for Master Maddox,” Melba said looking around. “How do you know Madam Regina?”

  “She’s Gwinnie’s sister,” Turk said before knocking.

  Madam Regina opened the door more quickly than she had the previous day. She ushered them straight in, then closed and locked the door behind them. “There’s bluejackets all over the city looking for you,” she said to him. “What you been up to?”

  “Treading on the Royal Victualler’s toes, I’m afraid.” Turk put his arm protectively around Melba. “You told me that if I ever needed a favor I should ask. I need a safe hiding place for this young lady.”

  Madam Regina squinted at Melba. “I seen you somewhere before ain’t I, lass?”

  “I used to run messages for Master Maddox.”

  Madam Regina put her hand to her chest and her eyes widened. “Great Earth Jinn, save us all.”

  Her gaze jumped back to Turk. “Are you trying to bring down the wrath of the king on our heads, sir?”

  “It’s the king’s work we do here, Madam. The princess needs to hide from the Royal Victualler.”

  “But why?”

  “Let us just say that the Royal Victualler has threatened the princess’s safety.”

  Madam Regina narrowed her eyes on the arm Turk had around Melba’s waist. “Hmm. I shall take your word for it, sir. I promised you aid when you needed it, and I don’t go back on me word.”

  “Is Cybal awake?” Dante asked.

  “I’m sure she’ll stir her stumps for you. She took quite a shine to you, young sir.”

  Madam Regina shouted up the stairs. A few moments later Cybal’s sleepy face appeared over the banisters. “Visitor, for you,” Madam Regina called.

  After Dante had gone upstairs, she ushered Turk and Melba along the hall. “I hope the Royal Victualler won’t look for the princess here,” Turk said.

  “Don’t be so sure. I’m betting he’ll turn over every pebble on the beach to find his way to the throne.”

  Turk winced at the knowing look Madam Regina gave him. He hadn’t considered that news of Vittorio’s betrothal to Melba would be all over the city today. Once reports of her disappearance got out, everyone would be on the lookout for her. The only way she’d be safe would be to get her off the island.

  Madam Regina led them into a modestly decorated bedroom and went to a bookcase. “Behind this panel is the private room where I entertain men of class who wish for the utmost discretion.” She pulled on a book, and a section of the shelves swung inward, providing a door. She went inside and lit two gas lamps because the room had no windows. The flickering light illuminated a small but lavishly appointed room. Red silk walls and dark wood furniture gleamed richly. The main feature was a large canopied bed trimmed with flounces of dark red silk and an ornate gilt headboard. Many gilt-framed mirrors covered the walls. Turk stared at the bed and swallowed hard.

  “There’s a private entrance in case you need to make a quick escape.” Madam Regina paced to the opposite wall and unlocked a narrow door. Turk poked his head out into an alley, grateful for the cool breeze on his
face. The little dog that had accompanied them looked out and pricked up its ears. He picked it up and passed it into Madam Regina’s arms. “Will you send a message to Steptoe to fetch this little chap?”

  “Certainly.” She turned to Melba. “Will this room do you, Princess?”

  “Aye, thank you. Can I have some water to wash me face and hands?”

  “Of course.”

  “And something to eat if it’s not too much of an imposition, Madam,” Turk added. His breakfast of bread and honey seemed like a long time ago now.

  Madam Regina gave him a small smile and patted his arm. “I’ll set the staff on it immediately. For a monk, you certainly are full of surprises, Master Turk.”

  “Former monk,” he said.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Well, well. Everything starts to make more sense.” She smiled knowingly and shut the door behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The Great Earth Jinn created men to need women and women to need men.

  —Princess Melbaline

  As soon as the madam left the hidden room, Melba turned to Turk. “How long we got to stay here?” Turk was probably right that Vittorio would not search for her in a brothel, but she hated being shut away, not knowing what was happening outside.

  “You won’t be safe until I get you off the island.” Turk moved around the room, lighting the other three gas lamps.

  “You’re sending me away? What about Pa?”

  “I’ll take you to the mainland. When Gregorio has made contact with your father and Vittorio is under control, then we’ll return.”

  Melba frowned. She liked the idea of going away with Turk because it meant she would get to spend all her time with him, but she did not trust Gregorio to resolve matters here. Her uncle did not have a good record when it came to helping his brother, and how would an old monk overcome Vittorio?

  A knock sounded on the door and two tarts wearing silky wraps over tightly laced corsets sauntered in carrying a pitcher of water and a tray bearing a pot of tea and two plates of eggs, bacon, and fried bread. They glanced at Melba inquisitively and gave Turk brazen seductive smiles. Madam Regina would have kept Melba’s identity secret, so they obviously thought she and Turk were here to use the facilities for the normal purpose.

  Melba had been so concerned about escaping Vittorio, and for her father’s health, she had not given the nature of their hiding place much thought. Now the possibilities rushed through her mind, making her giddy and hot. After the tarts left, she walked over to the ornate bed and stroked her hand across the rose-red comforter. Whatever the Shining Brotherhood thought, she believed that the Great Earth Jinn created men to need women and women to need men. What would it be like to share this bed with Turk, to touch him and make love with him? Turk glanced at her as he set out the meal on a small table, his casual expression at odds with his flushed cheeks.

  As a former monk, he was no more experienced in the ways of love than she was. She couldn’t depend on him to take the lead with romantic stuff. She watched him pouring milk into their teacups. Dark hair curled over his collar and stubble shaded his jaw. Even wearing a tatty shirt and grubby blue trousers he looked yummy. She imagined him slowly pulling the shirt over his head and she trembled with anticipation.

  He brought her a cup of tea. As she took it, his deep brown eyes clashed with hers and held, tension thrumming the air between them. He cleared his throat. “Melba, I apologize for bringing you to a brothel. I know it must be awkward for you being shut in this room alone with me.”

  “No, it ain’t.”

  A moment of stunned silence ensued. “Well…I thought you might want to wash and try to sleep for a few hours.”

  “I can wash and sleep with you here, can’t I?”

  Turk glanced at the pitcher of water on the washstand and swallowed. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

  As Melba sat at the small table, her stomach rumbled at the scrumptious smell and she remembered she hadn’t eaten anything for twenty-four hours. She shoveled down her eggs and bacon with gusto. When she ate a meal with Turk, the food tasted better than it normally did.

  After she finished, she sat back and patted her belly. She raised her filthy bare feet and sighed. “I’m gonna wash now. You wanna wash too?”

  Turk pulled off his boots and revealed equally dirty feet. She chuckled at the sight. “Vittorio and his guards caught me half dressed at the monastery. I had to go barefoot through the muck in the waterways before I nicked the boots from that poor guard. Then you took most of the rest of his togs.” They both laughed and the slight awkwardness between them eased.

  Melba jumped up and pulled off the oversized shirt. Turk’s breath rushed out. “Sweet Earth Jinn! Next time warn me before you start undressing.” He turned his chair to face the far wall.

  “I told you I were going to wash.” She grinned at his back as she untied her belt and the massive trousers fell in a heap around her ankles. She stood behind him wearing only her lacy silk drawers and her underdress. What would it take to entice him to turn around? She feathered her fingers through his hair. He reached back to catch her hand. Giggling, she dropped little kisses on the back of his neck.

  “Stop teasing me! I’m determined to behave properly despite unfair provocation.” He tried to sound cross, but she heard the smile in his voice.

  After washing her hands and face, she dried herself on a white towel that smelled like tarts’ perfume. While she patted her face dry, she stared at Turk’s back, almost light-headed with tingling excitement. She loved him and, whatever her father said, she would marry him. So why did they have to wait to share a bed? “Turk.”

  “What?” he said without looking round.

  “You should wash your face in the bowl before we put our grubby feet in it.”

  “Aye, makes sense. Are you going to dress first?”

  “No.”

  He sucked in air through his teeth. “Melba, you’re making this very difficult for me.”

  “Why’s it difficult? You ain’t a monk no more. I don’t mind you seeing me in me underthings.”

  “Fine! I give up trying to be a gentleman.” He sprang up and wrenched his shirt off over his head before dropping it onto the chair. Melba stopped breathing as he turned to face her and she stared at the lean, taut muscles in his chest and arms. He met her gaze steadily, then walked past her and splashed water from the bowl on his face.

  Melba gaped at him, her heart thudding in her ears as he rubbed water over his chest and arms and toweled the drips from his skin. “Go and sit on the chair, Melba,” he instructed.”

  She frowned.

  “Chop, chop. You’re still pledged to me. That makes me your master, so you must do what I tell you.” Turk picked up the bowl of water and muscles flexed under his skin. “If you want to wash your feet, sit down, or I’ll do mine first.”

  Melba stepped back and plopped down onto a chair. As Turk approached with the bowl, she lifted her feet and he put it on the ground in front of her. She wriggled her toes in the warm water and released a sigh of relief. Turk leaned a hip against the bedpost and watched as she lathered and rinsed her feet. Then he spread a towel on the ground for her to stand on and she dried her feet while he washed his.

  Across his back and shoulders, muscles bunched and flexed under his skin as he leaned forward. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Stop staring at me and get into bed, Melba,” Turk said without looking up. “We need to sleep during daylight hours. When it’s dark later I shall go down to the quay and try to buy us passage across the Channel to the mainland.”

  She wanted to stay on Malverne Isle to make sure her father was all right. But she didn’t want to argue with Turk about that now. She had other things on her mind. Obediently she went to the bed and snuggled under the covers. She propped her head on her arm to watch him while he dried his feet. “That feels much better,” he said, stretching and tossing the damp towel on the washstand.

  She hoped he might c
ome to her. Instead, he started toward the chaise lounge. Why did he have to be so well behaved? “Since you rescued me, you ain’t kissed me once like you did last night,” she said.

  Turk halted and rubbed the back of his neck. “Kissing you on the street is one thing. Kissing you here is a whole different matter.”

  “I ain’t daft. I know that.” But it still hurt that he hadn’t been overwhelmed with the need to kiss her and forgotten to be careful.

  Turk angled his head to look at her and she beckoned him. He gave a little grunt and she thought he would resist. Then the muscles in his arms bunched as he clenched and released his fists and he came to the bed.

  “You’re enough to tempt a monk.” He reached out to stroke the hair off her forehead. She caught his hand and pressed her lips to his palm.

  “Take off your trousers and get in bed with me,” she whispered.

  “Great Earth Jinn, Melba! I didn’t do very well at training you to be a young lady, did I?”

  “I don’t want to be like them Court ladies, anyhow. I like being me.”

  “I like you being you, too.” Turk smiled down at her and stroked the backs of his fingers across her cheek. Then he bent and kissed her. She linked her arms around his neck and pulled him down, needing to have him close against her. He stretched out on top of the covers beside her, his hand gliding up and down her back as they kissed.

  For a long time she lost herself in the sensation, her fingers touching his face and neck, trailing over his shoulders and chest. She badly wanted him to touch her as well. “Turk, will you tou—”

  He pressed a fingertip to her lips. “I’m trying hard to hang on to a modicum of control here, Melba.”

  She kissed his fingertip. “I love you, Turk, so anything we do is all right.”

  “Oh, Melba…” He cupped her face in his palm and kissed her longer and harder than he had before. “I love you too, my little Star. But until your father gives me permission to marry you, we must restrain ourselves.”