by Missy Maxim
***
Engrossed in the literature on his desk, Julian didn’t notice Alana coming in to his office.
“She’s going to be gone soon,” she stated without preamble.
“Who?” he asked, looking up.
“You know who. Catherine! The one you want as an orgasm friend.”
“Alana…”
“Well, it’s true. Even the help have noticed.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Okay, they’ve noticed you’re distracted and easily agitated. You should have gotten laid last night.”
It was the general idea.
“What are you blathering on about?”
She rolled her eyes. “If you don’t tell the girl what you want soon, you’re going to miss your chance.”
“What I want.”
“Yes, whatever the hell it is. I don’t know! None of my business…”
“Then, you’re butting in because bloody why?”
“Because… I haven’t had many friends…and I like my friends pleasant and satisfied. Not growling at me every time I walk into the room.”
“Nothing personal,” he muttered.
“I know. But seriously, go have sex. Do it soon!”
He had to laugh. “I’ll take that under advisement, pet.”
“Good! I’m going to go play with the money now.” Alana breezed out as abruptly as she’d come in.
She’s nuts, but she does have a point.
Chapter 9
Wednesday, October 31st. Halloween.
Catherine was told to pack everything she needed to get ready for the evening in a bag, and meet the car outside at two o’clock. She made sure she cleared her plate at lunch in case she didn’t get to eat again until very late, and was waiting on the steps promptly on the hour. The chauffeur picked her up in the limousine.
They drove into London, stopping at a pretty building in a nice part of town. Catherine was led up to an empty flat. She had a moment of confusion, before others entered with various things: a dressing table, adjustable chair, full-length mirror, boxes of all sizes, and a food cart with beverages and treats.
She recognized the seamstress that had worked on her dress.
“Good afternoon, Miss Mitchell. The gown is complete to your specifications. Let us do a last fitting in case last-minute adjustments are needed?” She removed the lid on a large box and lifted the dress up. “Magnificent, isn’t it?”
“Um, I need somewhere to change.” Catherine said. The dressmaker pointed to a wardrobe screen set up behind her. “Oh.”
She changed into the appropriate foundation garments before the lady came back with the dress and helped her step into it. She adjusted the ties in back, then directed Catherine to come back out to the mirror and stand on the pedestal.
“Mmm-hmm…” She circled her with a critical eye. “Shoes, please.” They were brought instantly. “Perfect. Add the jewels, and you will look like royalty.”
The gown was gunmetal gray silk, the bodice constructed like a corset with hook-and-eye closures in front, lacing in the back, and heavily beaded with seed pearls. The boning in the bodice created noticeable cleavage. The intricate beading bordered the top hem, running along each side of the closures down the center to the floor-length hem and around the slight train. The skirt split at knee level to reveal hidden layers. The rest of the beading was in tones of silver to black to create a blossom pattern on the bodice and train.
It was the most expensive thing Catherine had ever put on her body in her life.
“It was a bit complicated to adjust the length, but not so difficult in a week. Surprisingly comfortable, yes?”
“Yeah… I can still breathe.”
The dressmaker nodded. “It is the new flexible material for the stays. The boning holds its shape, but is not nearly so rigid as in the past. Fashion need not be torture. So, you’re happy with it?”
Catherine turned to face her, smiling. “Very much so. It’s…wow. It’s too beautiful for me, but I’ll wear it proudly!”
“I think it suits you just fine, Miss Mitchell. Now, out of the dress! You need hair and make-up, and…”
People instantly swarmed her. They helped her out of the dress, wrapped her in a robe, and plopped her down in the chair. She was primped head-to-toe in a whirlwind of activity. Eating was allowed until they did her lipstick, so she nibbled on little pastries and canapés.
She was nervous. She did want to make a good impression that evening, pass the test of her training, but she also had plans of her own. She couldn’t pass up on the chance of escaping while she was already in London.
Her bag was packed with everything she couldn’t bear to part with, buried at the bottom under her things for tonight. She just had to get away from Julian and make it into daylight where he couldn’t follow, while they were still in London.
“Miss Mitchell… Wake up, dear. It’s time to get you dressed.”
Catherine blinked. “Sorry…” It was easy to be lulled into a daze when someone was playing with your hair.
The vision in the mirror was so removed from the girl that arrived there four weeks ago. Her hair had been slicked back from her face, then twisted and curled into an intricate bundle at the back of her head, crystal pins holding it all together. Her eyes were defined in black, with smoky shades of charcoal and lavender blended up toward her brows. Plum-pink color graced her lips, with a touch of gloss in the center for dimension.
She was handed the beaded earrings that match her dress.
Back behind the screen to discard her robe, she adjusted her bustier, then stepped into the gown. The ribbons were cinched a bit tighter this time, prompting her to glare at the assistant.
“Your shoes, miss?”
Catherine lifted the hem of her dress and stepped into one, then the other stiletto sandal. Simple black satin. Once fastened, she walked out to face the crowd.
“Well?” she asked, turning for the assembly.
“You’ll stop traffic,” Alana said.
“Alana! What are you doing here?”
“Just making sure you’re on time. Julian was anxious, not that he’ll admit to it. Ready?”
“Just have to grab my cloak and my bag,” she replied.
The long black velvet cloak hid her dress from view until the perfect moment, as well as providing warmth on this chilly evening.
They rode down in the elevator alone.
“You know, I haven’t even asked what we’re seeing,” Catherine mused.
“Probably something morbid and dull. I prefer the American Halloween, with its bow to capitalist gain. The children really do make out with an excellent deal, except for the potential razor blades and poison in the candy.”
“My parents took me trick-or-treating every year when I was a kid. It was fun.”
The limousine was waiting out front.
“Is he in there?” she asked.
“Oh, just go! You have to see him sometime tonight. Really, you humans and your petty arguments…” Alana groused. She pushed Catherine through the door first.
The chauffeur opened the door as they came out. Julian stood, wearing his leather coat over a black tuxedo.
“Miss Mitchell. You look lovely this evening.”
She nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you, sir.” She handed her satchel to the chauffeur, who placed it in the trunk, and offered her gloved hand to Julian.
He kissed it, then helped her into the car.
“Play nice, you two,” Alana said cheerfully, then vanished.
Once inside the car and moving along, neither knew what to say first. Catherine finally swallowed her pride and asked what they were seeing.
“’Classical Music for Halloween’. I kid you not. They’ve put together a ghost story to scary music, or something.”
“Well, there are several works that fit in tone. Was Faust too expensive to produce? I’d think it would be perfect for Halloween. A moral tale warning against deals with the devil?”
She rolled her eyes. “I take it you saw it after you were turned?”
“Not the first time. Took my mum one year while I was still in university.”
“Well, it’ll be nice to listen to music. I used to play the violin.”
“Did you, now?”
She nodded. “In elementary school. I was…competent. Always struggled with the fingering. I didn’t get very far with piano for the same reason.”
“Your parents pushed you in the Arts?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘pushed’. They encouraged us in all subjects. They both worked in education.”
“Us? I thought you were an only child.”
“Me and my foster brother. They placed him with another family when my parents were killed. My grandmother was willing to take him in, but Child Services thought two teenagers would be too much for her,” she replied. “Did you have any siblings?”
Julian shook his head. “None that lived past infancy. I was the last.”
“That must have been hard for your family.”
He shrugged. “Probably was. It was Victorian England, so we certainly never spoke of it. They were just notations in the family Bible. It was the way it was. Pregnancy was a dangerous affair, back then. I got you something.” He fished into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box. “Alana told me the color of your dress, so I thought these would suit it well.” He opened the jewelry box to reveal a choker of South Sea pearls.
Catherine’s eyes widened to comic proportions. “Please tell me you didn’t buy this just for tonight!”
He scoffed. “Oh, heaven’s no! They’re on loan. If you don’t want to wear it--”
“No…they’re beautiful. I’d be honored. Um, will you help me?” She unclasped her cloak, letting it slip off her bare shoulders, and turned her back to him.
He took the necklace out of the box and unhooked the clasp, then draped it around her neck.
“Is this too tight?” he murmured, his breath tickling the fine hairs at her nape.
“It’s fine,” she replied, actively trying not to shiver. He fastened the clasp on a link and withdrew back to his seat.
“Let’s see how it looks.”
She straightened in her seat, angling to face him. The choker was very simply designed--just two rows of black pearls in graduated sizes, the largest centered in the hollow of her throat. With the size and rarity of the pearls, it had to be worth at least $20,000.
“Exquisite,” he said, looking into her eyes.
She felt a warm flush creep up her neck as she re-fastened the cloak just beneath the pearls. The heat in his gaze was exactly why she didn’t want to reveal the dress until they were in public. Why had she let Alana encourage her to pick something so revealing? They’d done very well the past few days not having any lusty, tense moments, and now he was looking at her like that again.
Thankfully, the limo pulled up to the venue at that moment. Julian exited first, then held out his hand for her.
“Milady.”
“Thank you.”
She looked around at the other arrivals, most of them middle-aged or elderly couples dressed to the nines.
“Is it always this formal?” she asked.
He waved it off. “It’s a thing. There’s the concert, and the party, and a charity auction…just an excuse to play ‘Who’s got the biggest checkbook’. You’ll probably see a few Hollywood types, too.”
“Oh. How’d you get in, then?”
He smirked. “I have my sources.” They passed through the doors and reached the coat check. He stopped and looked at her expectantly.
“Oh…yes…” Catherine set her purse on the counter and took off the cloak, passing it carefully to the clerk, who handed her a numbered ticket.
“Sir?” he said, nodding to Julian’s coat.
“I’m fine, mate.” He turned to her and released a low-pitched whistle. “Well worth the wait, love. Remind me to tip your dressmaker.” His eyes blatantly raked over her form.
“Yes, fine. Can we find our seats, please?”
He winked, and offered her his arm. She accepted, not looking at him.
There were whispers in the halls as they headed up to their box. Everyone wanted to know “who the striking couple was” and “where they came from”.
Julian soaked it up, while Catherine squirmed inside. She didn’t like being the center of so much attention. She let out a sigh of relief when they finally reached their box and the attendant checked their tickets.
There were two rows of four seats each. Julian guided her to the front center two and took off his coat, laying it on the seat next to him.
“That thing’s pretty precious to you, huh?”
“Killed someone for it,” he replied, unashamed. They were high above the orchestra, but could see the entire stage. “Would you like a pair of those little optics?”
“Oh, opera glasses? No, it’s not necessary. Thank you.” She smoothed her dress under her and carefully sat down, feeling his eyes on her cleavage. “Are you going to do that all night?” she quietly snapped.
“What?”
She glared at him. “Stare at my breasts. I can feel it.”
“Hey, you chose the dress, kitten. I’m just a man.”
“You…! God, you’re insufferable!”
“And you’re even prettier when you’re angry,” he countered, his eyes flickering to her heaving bosom.
She made a sound of disgust and stood to move to another seat. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down.
“Careful, pet. I didn’t want to alarm you, but there’s every possibility Lorcan has someone watching you tonight. Might want to think about how you behave.”
“You told him we’d be here?”
“He did say he’d check in on your progress, and this was the nearest event I could book to test your training. Maybe they won’t watch you up here, but there will definitely be someone at the party. Whose side do you want to be on at the end of the night?”
The message was clear: be the perfect little lady, or get turned over to Lorcan. Her eyes narrowed into angry slits.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
“Maybe. But you need me. We all have our crosses to bear. So, be a good girl, hmm?”
She nodded. He let go, and she leaned back in her seat, tears pricking her eyes.
Just get through tonight.
***
He took no satisfaction in smelling her tears, but the warning was necessary. For one, there could be a spy out there tonight, though he hadn’t talked directly to Lorcan since the night he dropped Catherine in Julian’s lap. For another, he suspected there was a plan whirring about that sharp brain of hers, and she needed to be on top form to execute it. It was best for both of them if he didn’t make it easy for her to go.
Chapter 10
Catherine began to relax once the house lights went down and the music started. There was just enough indirect light to follow her program, if she tilted it a certain way. Bach, Brahms, Mozart…lesser known composers…it was surprising how much of the older stuff was “scary” sounding, or suspenseful.
She glanced at Julian occasionally, but he seemed focused on the music.
Intermission seemed to sneak up on her. Had it been an hour and a half already?
“I’m going to make a trip to the ladies’ room,” she announced to her date.
“Don’t get lost,” he replied with good humor.
“Ha, ha.”
After successfully negotiating the toilet in her dress, Catherine stood at the mirror and retouched her lipstick.
“Those pearls really complement your complexion, dear,” said one woman.
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to be out tonight. It has been a while for me since I’ve enjoyed a full orchestra,” she replied.
“You’re American!” remarked another. “Have you been visiting lo
ng?”
“A few weeks. It took me a bit to get used to, as I’m from California.”
“Oh! Is it true that you can see movie stars just driving down the street?”
“Not so much. Only in a couple places in L.A.”
“Did an American designer do your dress?” asked another woman.
“No, I got it here.”
The lights flashed off and on, indicating they should head back to their seats. The old biddies sighed, their gossip session cut short.
Catherine was relieved.
“What took you so long?” Julian asked as she sat down.
“Women, in formal wear, in a bathroom. You do the math. It’s not easy keeping your dress out of the bowl or not stepped on. And then, there’s the line.”
“I get the picture, pet,” he said, and chuckled. “I could get you to the front next time you have to visit the loo.”
“That’s okay, Julian.”
The lights dimmed once more.
“For the second part of the evening, there will be a reading of Edgar Allan Poe’s A Tell-Tale Heart, accompanied by the orchestra.”
“Oh, I love Poe’s stories! I had some in a set of children’s horror books my father gave me. I read them many times,” she gushed.
“Wouldn’t have taken you for a fan of Gothic fiction, love.”
“I don’t know about that…just Poe. And The Count of Monte Cristo. It was very different stuff from the typical Disney fairytales. I had a book of Grimm’s tales, too.”
“Baby has a dark side,” he teased.
“Oh, hush…”
Julian watched and waited for just the right…suspenseful…moment, and grabbed her arm. Catherine levitated off her seat, gasping. She smacked his arm.
“Don’t do that!” she whispered.
“But it’s fun.”
“Evil!”
“Uh, yeah. Vampire.”
“Jerk,” she said, smiling.
His hand still on her arm, he trailed his fingers along her skin, goose bumps rising up in their wake. “I’m sorry for pissing you off earlier.”
“Thought vampires didn’t do apologies.”
He smiled, self-consciously. “Not often. So take it while it counts. I’d rather see you smile.”