Alexis Carew: Books 1, 2, and 3

by J. A. Sutherland

  “Not bichette?” she asked with a small smile, remembering what he’d called her via ship’s signals when she was fleeing Hanoverese space.

  “In that dress, non. It shows you … the word, grown up, oui?”

  Alexis felt her face heat and tried to turn the conversation.

  “Well, calling me that almost got you in a great deal of trouble last time, before I explained to Mister Lain that it means ‘little doe’ and not what it sounds like. It is better than cabbage, though.” That had been the last thing he’d called her, the very last thing before sailing back to Hanoverese space from Penduli Station. My little cabbage.

  “Mon choux,” Delaine said, then grinned. He held up a hand, thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. “It is also the tiny pastry filled with the sweetest of cream. I like them very much.”

  Alexis felt her face heat more and knew she’d just flushed bright red.

  How does he do that? He didn’t say anything the least untoward and yet I’m … damn me, but Naval officers on secret missions for the Queen do not blush!

  “May I sit?”

  She nodded, unsure of how to start. Encouraging revolt and mutiny wasn’t the sort of thing one could just blurt out in a pub where others might hear, so they’d have to find some excuse to leave for a more private setting.

  As Delaine sat, Alexis noticed a commotion at the table he’d left. One of the men was grinning widely and the other three were grimacing and sliding coins across the table to him. She frowned and looked back to Delaine.

  “Are your friends betting on whether I’d allow you to join me?”

  Delaine shrugged. “Henri is my friend. The others, they are le Hanovre and do not know me well.” He nodded toward the pub’s door. “Should we leave together, Henri will know much wealth.”

  Alexis struggled not to smile.

  Well, no, I suppose we’ll not need much excuse to leave this place and seek privacy after all.

  She leaned forward over the table so that they wouldn’t have to speak as loudly and felt a little satisfaction when she saw that Delaine’s eyes were not meeting hers.

  Mister Dansby’s money was well-spent on this dress, it seems, if it can make the most of what little I have — there’s a bit to be said, it seems, for structural enhancements. I wonder how much wealth Henri would come into if I were to wrap my arms around him and kiss him as I long to.

  Instead she forced a stern look on her face.

  “And is this how you’ve spent our time apart? Approaching strange women and betting with your friends on the outcome?”

  Delaine raised his gaze and she realized as she spoke that she was only half teasing. When they’d parted after her court martial on Penduli, she’d never expected to see him again. With the war, especially with them being, ostensibly, on opposing sides, she’d thought it impossible, despite their promise to seek each other out after the war was over. Even messages would have been impossible.

  She’d been approached by other men since — none of Shrewsbury’s officers, of course, but the time they’d spent in ports offered opportunities — and she’d spent pleasant enough evenings with some. No more than suppers on-station and the occasional show in port — there’d been little enough time to get to know someone and less, she admitted, interest on her part. Still she knew it was different for the male officers. She’d seen their disappointment often enough when she’d thanked them for a pleasant evening and ended things.

  Delaine’s face looked stricken, and Alexis realized she must not have had such a teasing note in her voice as she’d thought. Or, perhaps, there had been a great deal of that sort of thing. And, perhaps, it was unfair of her to feel the way she suddenly did, as though she’d been betrayed, when in truth she had no hold on him.

  It’s been nearly two years since I last saw him, but perhaps I don’t care if it’s fair at all and would happily strangle any number of those unknown women at the moment.

  Delaine started to speak, but she held up a finger to stop him.

  “If you say ‘I am French’ we shall have words, I think.”

  “I had thought I was never to see you again,” he said quietly.

  Alexis swallowed hard and caught her lip between her teeth, thoughts running away with her.

  Damn me, but he’s done nothing I didn’t do myself … well, perhaps more, but I certainly had the opportunities. And it’s only by the slim chance of Eades’ plotting that we’re even meeting again and I have no hold on him, but fair or not I want one, though we never did more than kiss — and don’t I wish I’d taken that opportunity on Giron and let him ply me a bit more when we had the chance. I wonder if it’s been any of the women in this room since we’ve been apart … and wouldn’t they look fine as a pile of strangled corpses?

  She took a deep breath and tried to settle herself.

  This is all so very confusing.

  “Alexis, how are you here?”

  The question drew her back from her thoughts, reminding her of her duty. No matter her sudden confusion over her feelings, she had another, clearer, purpose here and concentrating on that would give her time to ponder the other.

  “We have much to talk about. Do you know a private place where we can do so?”

  Delaine nodded.

  “Then let’s be off.” She glanced at the table he’d left where the four officers were paying a great deal of attention to them. “And leave Henri with a much-filled purse.”

  Delaine’s idea of a private place turned out to be an establishment that offered private rooms to officers on station. Not just the sleep pods commonly available to spacers, but real rooms with full beds and a bath shared with only one other room. Alexis was a bit put out that he seemed to know the place so well. She was well aware of why male officers kept rooms on-station instead of sleeping aboard ship. Nor was she pleased with the look she received from the establishment’s owner and the thought of what he must think of her.

  None of that was enough, though, to dim her enthusiasm as the room’s hatch slid shut and left them alone for the first time. She wrapped her hands around Delaine’s neck and pulled his face down to hers.

  It was only some time later, after she felt they’d made a proper greeting after so long apart, that Alexis finally explained how she’d come to be on Dietraching.

  “La République, they will come for us? Truly?”

  Alexis nodded. “There’s a French admiral and general … field marshal, you call them, I think? They’re on their way to Alchiba — may already have arrived — with uniforms and supplies. New London has assembled a fleet and troops. It’s all being prepared.”

  Delaine rose from his seat beside her and started pacing.

  “I know that this has been thought of,” he said. “My commodore, she sometimes says things that make me think there is even a plan.” He stopped pacing and looked at her intently. “You are certain of this?”

  Alexis smiled. “I have messages for Commodore Balestra from admirals and generals in both New London’s and the Republic’s forces. When I met with Admiral Reinier on Nouvelle Paris, he —”

  Delaine was suddenly on his knees before her, grasping her hands. “You have been to Paris?”

  Alexis had to laugh at the look on his face. “I was there for almost three months.”

  “Is it as wonderful as they say?”

  Alexis thought of the days spent in drab offices waiting for some petty bureaucrat to bother speaking to them and night after night of interminable parties that all ran together in her memory, then saw the hope and expectation in Delaine’s eyes.

  “What I saw of it was quite grand,” she said finally. “Admiral Reinier’s home is lovely … they have very impressive forts.”

  They talked for a time about how to go about getting Alexis in to meet with Balestra. It would have to be done covertly, so that the Hanoverese security officer aboard the commodore’s flagship caught no suspicion of what was happening. Delaine could speak to her privately easily enough, but
meeting with Alexis would be more difficult. Finally they realized that there was no more they could do until such a meeting was arranged.

  “Alexis, I cannot tell you how I feel. Always I have wanted my world to rejoin La République, and since I left you I have wished to see you again …” He grinned. “You are like some génie to make my wishes come true.”

  Alexis caught her lip between her teeth and looked down. Now that she’d fulfilled at least part of her duty in coming here, she could finally think of more personal things. She’d spent the nearly two years since she’d last seen him regretting what they hadn’t done, and didn’t wish to make the same mistake again.

  “You do have one wish left, you know.” She glanced up quickly to watch his face. “By tradition, I mean.”

  Delaine’s brow furrowed.

  To hear the other officers talk, this sort of thing comes so easily to them. I wonder if the Navy hasn’t issued some instruction manual I’ve yet to read.

  “It occurs to me,” she said, wondering how direct she’d have to be, “that you did take this room for the entire night, and it would be a shame for Henri to come by all those winnings dishonestly.”

  Delaine eyes widened. He cupped her face in both hands and tilted it up.

  “Are you certain, mon chaton? I should not wish you to have regrets.”

  Alexis forced herself to breathe, hoping her voice wouldn’t tremble as so much of the rest of her was. Regrets were what she’d had since she’d last left him and she had no idea when they’d have another opportunity. Once her messages were delivered to Balestra, she’d be back aboard Röslein and sailing for New London space. Delaine and Balestra’s fleet would be close behind, but when they did reach New London she’d be back aboard Shrewsbury, which might not even participate in the Berry March revolt.

  “I actually am capable of knowing my own mind, Delaine. Still, to be safe, you shall have to do your very best to see I have no cause to.”

  Thirty-Four

  Alexis woke with her head still resting on Delaine’s chest where she’d lain before falling asleep, one arm and leg draped over him and a rapidly expanding pool of drool wetting her cheek. She winced at the sight, then licked her lips and shifted slightly.

  Perhaps if I move very slowly I can wipe that off before he wakes.

  “Bonjour, mon ange.”

  Alexis closed her eyes and sighed.

  Do men never sleep? Or do they simply lie there and watch us?

  She sat up and pulled up the sheet to her chest, clutching it there with one hand while she used the other to daub at Delaine’s chest. She stopped at the look of amusement on his face and flushed.

  “I cannot imagine that you have never drooled in your sleep,” she said, turning her back to him.

  Delaine laughed and ran a hand over her bare back, making her shiver. She felt the sheet move as he grasped it and wiped his chest.

  “And so,” he said. “There is no sign of it to embarrass you.”

  She felt his hand stop caressing her and he ran a finger along one of the scars that crisscrossed her back.

  “This is from Capitaine Neals?”

  The anger in his voice made her turn. She lay back down and rested her face on his chest. “That’s over. I barely notice the scars anymore.”

  Delaine held her tightly. “I would wish more was done to him.”

  Like throwing him off a ship in darkspace?

  Alexis shuddered, this time from the thought, not Delaine’s touch. She’d almost told him the night before of what she’d done to Coalson, but stopped. She did want to talk to someone about it, someone she trusted, but feared what he might say — more so what he might think of her for it.

  “I doubt he’ll ever return to duty,” she said. “If he should, it will be at a desk with a port admiral examining his every decision and no power to flog a soul.”

  “It is not enough.”

  “It was what could be had.” The captains making that decision had not wanted to risk the embarrassment of a court martial for Neals and the risk of his actions being exposed. Even in a Service with such strict discipline, Neals was one to be ashamed of.

  He also has powerful friends, Alexis reminded herself. Friends might have stepped forward to protect him from anything more.

  Delaine cupped her cheek and raised her face to his.

  “Let us move to pleasanter things,” he said. “Later I will speak to my commodore and arrange a meeting for you, but this morning is still ours.”

  The station corridor held a subdued, early morning crowd. Though stations ran twenty-four hours a day for visiting ships, most fell into a somewhat normal rhythm of day and night — at least for those who lived aboard the station full time. Alexis took Delaine’s arm as they left the hotel.

  “I have time for breakfast, and then I must return to my ship, ma chèrie. I will speak with my commodore as soon as I may —”

  Behind them, someone called out, then again, louder. Alexis couldn’t tell what was said, but Delaine looked and scowled.

  “Merde.”

  Alexis looked also and saw an Hanoverese officer hurrying toward them. Others in the corridor moved aside as he came on. He called out again, waving his arm.

  “Leutnant Theibaud!”

  Delaine leaned close to her and whispered, “This man is dangerous. Speak only Français, and little of that.”

  He straightened and smiled as the man drew nearer. Alexis wondered at the warning, for the man seemed cheerful — smiling and round-faced, with red patches on his cheeks. Pale, thin hair covered his head.

  “Herr Reinacher,” Delaine said, smiling, when the man reached them.

  “Leutnant Theibaud.”

  Then came a string of German so fast and guttural that Alexis had no hope of following it. Delaine responded in kind. Alexis only realized that they had begun speaking of her because the man gestured at her. Delaine looked at her and squeezed her hand in warning before responding.

  The man looked at her and held out his hand, speaking very slowly and loudly.

  “Ahchanting, maidmosul Aubert.”

  It took Alexis a moment to realize what he was saying, or trying to say, and that only because it was so obviously a greeting.

  He’s trying to say ‘enchanté mademoiselle’, but what a horrid accent — and what on earth is an aubert?

  “Merci, monsieur,” she said, remembering Delaine’s instruction to speak only French and giving him her hand.

  She repressed a shiver as he bent and kissed her hand, then another when he straightened and met her eyes.

  Smiling and cheerful, but with dead-cold eyes.

  He addressed Delaine again and Alexis tried to follow the conversation, but it was too rapid for her limited knowledge of the tongue. Delaine shook his head several times, but the man persisted and eventually Delaine seemed to agree reluctantly. With a wave and a nod to Alexis, the man walked off.

  Delaine took Alexis’ arm and hurried her in the opposite direction.

  “Who was that?” Alexis asked.

  “A moment,” Delaine said, voice low and tense. He waited until they were several intersections away and spent the time darting glances at those around them until finally he pulled Alexis into a side corridor. “Herr Reinacher. He is with my fleet as … ah, la police politique?”

  “Political police?” Alexis asked. “What did he want?”

  “This disturbs me, Alexis.” Delaine frowned. “He has asked me to attend l'opéra and the reception after. I have told him you are a friend, ah, Mademoiselle Aubert, traveling from my home. His French is … affreux, frightful, and he cannot understand it spoken quickly, so he will not expect to speak with you. This invitation, though, it disturbs me very much.”

  “Well, if he’s attached to your fleet, would this not be a simple courtesy?”

  “Non. Not to me, I am but a lieutenant. My commodore, she has trust in me, but I am below the notice of such as he. And Herr Reinacher, he was most insistent and asked for you
to attend as well.” He looked around. “Alexis, I think that you should return to your ship, this Röslein, and leave. I do not like his interest.”

  “But I must meet with Commodore Balestra,” Alexis said. “I have the messages from the Republic and the plans —”

  “Then give to me this message and I will pass it to my commodore.”

  “They’re on my tablet.”

  Delaine pulled his tablet from his pocket. “And transfer it to mine and I will give it.”

  Alexis sighed. “I seem to recall you making a quite thorough search of me last night. Perchance did your hands encounter my tablet in their travels?”

  Delaine grinned. “Non, nothing but you.” His grin faltered. “Herr Reinacher is not to laugh at, Alexis. He is a dangerous man, much to be feared. You have told me of these plans — I will inform my commodore and you should leave.”

  “If I disappear, just sail off, will that not appear more suspicious to him? And draw more suspicion to you and Commodore Balestra in turn?”

  Delaine sighed. “It would be difficult to explain,” he said.

  “Then I should attend this, this opera and the reception. Perhaps he is simply showing a courtesy. If you and the other officers from the Berry March fear him so much, he must surely know it, mustn’t he? Perhaps he saw you with a girl and decided to take the opportunity to do something kind, something to, I don’t know, improve relations with the officers of your fleet?” She saw Delaine’s skeptical look and shrugged. “I don’t want to be the cause of trouble for you or Commodore Balestra.”

  Delaine looked at her and quirked one corner of his mouth up. He looked around and leaned close to her.

  “You come to ask us to make la mutinerie, to take our ships home, and to raise la révolte against le Hanovre … this is not trouble?”

  “Long night, Carew.”

  Alexis was, perhaps, halfway back to Röslein’s berth at the station’s quayside and jumped with an audible gasp as Dansby appeared at her elbow. She’d thought she’d been quite good about keeping her wits about her and her eyes scanning the crowd in the corridor, yet he’d approached to within touching distance without her noticing.