Finette moved to the center of the circle-shaped parquetry in the wooden floor. Above her, a gold chandelier appeared ridiculously ornate and too large, as if it were trying too hard. Much like her friend’s husband. She should leave before she embarrassed herself and her dearest friend beyond repair. Too late. Footsteps and the soft swish of fabric preceded Cadence’s appearance in the foyer. Sunlight seemed to gather in her blonde curls, and her smile brightened the room.
“Finette.” Cadence reached for her.
“Cadence.” Finette welcomed her embrace until her friend’s hard belly pressed against her own. “Oh!” She drew back with a laugh. “The baby’s grown since last month.”
Cadence placed Finette’s hand on her stomach. “Do you feel that?”
The movement of the infant swimming below the skin made her gasp. “So strong.” Unlike her friend, who could never keep up with Finette when they were girls. How could she deliver a babe?
As if she’d read Finette’s mind, Cadence patted her hand. “I feel wonderful.”
“You certainly look wonderful.” The legendary glow of motherhood.
Worry filled Cadence’s face. “Don’t misunderstand my meaning, but you don’t. What’s wrong?” She linked arms and drew her inside the parlor. The sunshine pouring in reflected off the white walls, and the white curtains billowing in the breeze from the tall windows.
Finette felt like they’d stepped inside the set of a play, with everything arranged just so. It all seemed a bit precarious, as if the walls might collapse at any moment. “I’m not interrupting, am I? Monsieur de Bergerac won’t be upset that I stopped by unannounced?”
Cadence sat on the sky-blue tufted cushions of the velvet sofa. “Clovis is away on business. I’m always glad for your company. Tell me everything.”
Finette perched on the edge of the cushion, afraid she might soil the fabric. Nor would she sully her friendship. “I’m fine. Excited, in fact. I’m restoring a flying machine and plan to enter the British Diamond Cup.”
“A flying machine!” Delight turned to sadness. “The race is in August, isn’t it?”
“Early August, why?”
Cadence glanced down. “I won’t be able to travel then. And you’ve planned this for so long. I promised you I’d be there to cheer for you. I couldn’t even come to the race last week.”
Even though the baby wasn’t due to arrive until November? Finette wouldn’t stir up trouble by asking. “Never mind. You’ll be there in spirit, as you were on Sunday.”
“You’re such a dear.”
“Your health is more important than a race.” She hated to ask, but did anyway. “How long will Clovis be away?” It had nearly killed Finette to see her friend marry a man who seemed not to treasure her above all others, but how could he leave her in such a delicate state?
“A few days. He hated to go, but we’re both preparing in our own way for the baby. He’s making extra money so we can afford everything a child needs.”
Finette caught her lip between her teeth. To ask for any contribution for her selfish purposes would be no different than stealing from the newborn. She couldn’t do it.
Cadence read her expression, as she always had been able to. “Dearest Finn, please tell me what’s wrong.”
Shaking her head, Finette stared at her hands in her lap. “Jacalyn wants me gone. I’m trying to accommodate her, but she can’t wait until I win the race. She’s planning a ball for next month, though it’s really a marriage auction. Unmarried men from far and wide will be there, I understand.”
“Oh.” That one word held such deep sympathy.
Finette forced a grin. “A useless endeavor. I’d frighten any man away.”
Cadence gently squeezed her arm. “Untrue, and you know it.”
Normally, the subject turned melancholy. Finette couldn’t help beaming. “Except for maybe one.”
Cadence’s grip tightened. “Who? Tell me quickly.”
“His name is Sacha. A Romanian gypsy in a royal household, but only as a servant, so my stepmother would faint in horror.” A laugh bubbled up at the thought. “That in itself is in his favor.”
“And you like him?”
Finette wouldn’t alarm her friend with tales of spells. “He’s intriguing. Since the race, he’s like a ghost following me everywhere. My thoughts don’t stray far from him.” His unseen presence wrapped her in warmth and shielded her from harsh loneliness.
Her friend gave a little squeal. “Will you see him at the race in August?”
“Yes. I wish I could see him sooner, but his world travels keep him busy.”
“I presume he owns an airship?”
“Breath of the Dragon. It’s amazing. You should have seen it.”
“Did he take you flying?” Cadence asked in hushed excitement.
“No.” Another chuckle burst out. “Only in my dreams.”
Cadence clucked her tongue. “Be careful, my dearest.”
“Who knows, I may never see him again. But he’s nothing like…” She glanced around to be certain no servants lingered, then whispered, “Monty.” Only Cadence had known about their little fling and its disastrous outcome.
Her friend pressed a delicate hand to her chest. “What a relief.”
“Jacalyn called me a childish dreamer for planning to become a pilot.” Finette heaved a sigh. “You don’t think me completely foolish, do you? Am I doing the right thing, concentrating heart and soul on this race?”
“Never say such a thing. You have worked so hard for this.”
But for what? If she couldn’t win first place, all her work would be for naught. “I’d hate to disappoint Papa.”
“You must make your own happiness. Don’t let anyone else dictate your future.”
It was as if Cadence had lifted a terrible weight from Finette. The best gift her friend could have given. “You’re so sweet.”
“I’m afraid the reality of motherhood has made me less sweet and more pragmatic.” Cadence grinned. “But more protective of those I love.”
“I’ve noticed a new quiet ferocity about you. You’re a lioness.” Finette let her gaze wander and take in the large room. “Are you happy, here in this oversized playhouse?”
The sweet smile that filled her friend’s face said it before she could. “I am, actually. I know you think Clovis isn’t the right one for me—”
“No, I never said that.” Embarrassed, she ducked her head.
Cadence squeezed her hand. “Honesty always, remember?”
Finette nodded. “Honesty always. If I misjudged him, I’m sorry.” She’d been hurt when her best friend spent all her spare time with the man. Another abandonment she couldn’t bear, and so she’d turned to Monty for comfort. His attention fooled her into believing he thought her special. She’d promised herself to never again make the same mistake of blinding herself to the truth.
A glow lit Cadence’s face as she gazed dreamily into the distance. “Outwardly, Clovis appears less than what he truly is. I’m looking forward to discovering all the layers beneath.”
“And here I thought there was no such thing as a perfect marriage.” Her friend gave Finette hope that someday she’d find a man so interesting that a shared future would seem an exciting adventure rather than a sentence of doom.
The aeroplane. She had to get to work. “I hate to say goodbye, but I have so much to do.”
Cadence rose and strolled alongside her. “Make sure you keep me abreast of everything.”
“I will.” Finette opened the door and descended the steps slowly. “You must come to the ball my father’s wife is planning, otherwise I’ll have no one to talk to.”
“Except for dozens of suitors. Keep an open mind, someone might surprise you.” Beneath her teasing tone lay some kernel of truth, or hope.
“I don’t know if such a man exists.” Finette chuckled. “Except in my dreams.”
“Perhaps in Romania?” Cadence arched her brows in question.
“
I would be a fool to hope.” She kissed her friend’s cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
Cadence caught her elbows and held tight. “Go and build the fastest flying machine on Earth. But get some sleep, too.”
A laugh escaped. “Practicing for motherhood?” Her friend already sounded like one.
Rubbing her belly, Cadence spoke matter-of-factly. “I want my baby to grow up to be just like you. Adventurous and fearless and with a heart as big as the sky.”
A sudden lump thickened Finette’s throat. She climbed into the carriage and after blowing a kiss out the window, reset the directional for Addie’s hangar.
Chapter Four
The days slipped by like a dream. Every day, Finette worked as late as she could at Addie’s, only returning home to relieve her exhaustion. Most nights, she was able to sneak in the Proulx house undetected, and then slip out again in the mornings before Jacalyn awoke.
She was creeping into the kitchen when Jacalyn ambushed her from behind.
“Finette.”
Her stepmother said her name like something vile, her own name used as a weapon against her.
She slowed long enough to say, “Bon jour.”
Without returning the pleasantry, Jacalyn followed her. “Madame Helaine has a new shipment of gowns arriving this Friday.”
Finette knew where this conversation was headed, but arched her brows in feigned interest. “Lovely.”
“Carve some time out of your precious day and go to her store. If you don’t select one by the end of next week, I will do it for you.” The last, her stepmother said like a threat.
One that was all too real. Finette could only imagine the frou-frou style Jacalyn would parade her in. Giving a small curtsy, she barreled outside into the morning mist. Only after she’d arrived at Addie’s did she realize she’d forgotten to grab something to eat. Either she’d have to cut her day short, or starve. She’d already skipped too many dinners, and her trousers had begun to hang loose.
Anger built to the level of compressed steam, and she’d witnessed the unfortunate result of such a condition in machinery. Her head was in danger of exploding, so she unleashed the pressure with a torrent of curses and hurled tools. Stomping from one side of the aeroplane to the other, her boot caught the edge of the wheel and she stumbled forward. Righting herself too fast, she bumped her head hard on the wing.
“Mon dieu!” Would this day never improve? Rubbing the sore spot, she screeched a host of less holy phrases.
Hearty laughter bellowed through the hanger, and she froze. A crowbar sat just out of reach on the floor. She lunged for the bar and swung it in front of her. “Who are you?” Then she saw the visitor and wished she could disappear into a cloud of steam.
The gypsy set his hands on his hips, boots spread wide as if about to make a conquest. “Forgotten me already?”
“Sacha.” She said his name to herself in wonder. Having been buried so deep in frustration, she never heard the airship approach, and never saw the shadow because of the gloomy day. “Addie never said I should expect you.” She leaned the crowbar against the flying machine.
He propped an elbow atop the wing. “I hadn’t planned to visit until last night. An unexpected cancellation enabled me to alter the route home. Aren’t you at least glad to see me?”
Yes, but she didn’t quite understand. Why had he come to the hangar? “Were you looking for Addie? She’s away on business.”
Something crossed his face, the embarrassment of a boy caught stealing, perhaps. He vanquished it with a smile. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Her grin held a challenge. “Nor did you answer mine.” What a puzzle.
He turned his attention to the aeroplane. “She’s a beauty. Is she yours?”
“No. I hope to race her, if I can finish in time.” And if she could stumble across a small fortune for the entry fee.
“With this,” he patted the wing, “you’ll take first place in the British Diamond Cup.”
Why did he sound as if he were familiar with this particular machine? “Will you be entering your airship?”
He laughed. “She’s fast, but no.”
A thrill shivered through her as she recalled seeing just how fast. “I confess, I couldn’t help admiring your ship at the last race.”
“I’d invite you aboard, but you’re obviously busy…” He flicked a sidelong glance her way.
She shook her head fast. “No, I’m not.”
A tense beat later, a laugh burst from his chest. “No?”
Heat flushed her cheeks. He’d been teasing her, and she’d fallen for it. She toed her boot at a wrench on the ground. “Well, I am. But not terribly.” She wouldn’t stoop so low as to invite herself.
He held out his hand. “Would you do me the honor, Mademoiselle Proulx?”
Maybe her head had lightened from hunger, but despite her reluctance to fuel his already-inflated ego, everything in her said yes. He held her gaze as she slid her palm across his, and she felt as light as if someone had filled her with an airship’s lifting gas.
“Do you require a harness?” he asked. “These ladders can be tricky.”
“No, I’m quite used to them.” And once again thankful she wore trousers, which wouldn’t inhibit her climb as skirts would.
Breath of the Dragon hovered like a shadow above their heads. The metal rungs of the ladder barely registered beneath her boots as she climbed up and inside, taking hold of the metal rail surrounding the hatch to hoist herself into the cargo bay.
While pulling up the ladder, Sacha nodded in the direction of the four men gathered. “These are my crew. Kronid. Vyorel. Bogdi. Petar.”
The men each nodded to her with boyish shyness as Sacha spoke their names. All wore black like Sacha. She recognized Bogdi as the one who’d been with Sacha at the race. Then, the man had appeared suspicious, even secretive, but showed nothing of that now.
After closing and securing the hatch, Sacha leapt to his feet. “Our guest is Finette Proulx.”
“Pleased to meet you.” ‘Pleased’ didn’t begin to describe her emotions at finding herself aboard the Breath of the Dragon. Thrilled, excited… either might begin to touch her real state, closer to euphoric.
Sacha touched the small of her back. “Care for a tour?”
“Please.” The gleaming black metal had beckoned to her the moment she stepped aboard.
From the ground, the airship appeared long and narrow, but once inside, the wide space surprised her. Four broughams could stand side by side, and about a dozen in line.
He made a sweep with his arm. “This is the cargo bay for occasional transport of goods, mostly items I take home to Romania. Come.” He strode along the lower deck toward the vessel’s bow, where a passageway opened into a wall marked the end of the cargo bay. He stopped outside an oval door and threw it open. “My cabin sits just below the bridge in the event my crew requires me in a hurry.”
Opposite wide windows sat a large bed, covers rumpled. The rest of the room appeared simple and fairly neat.
She tried not to invade his privacy by staring too long. “What a lovely view.”
“I suppose so. I hardly notice these days.” He indicated an identical door opposite his. “A guest cabin.”
He arched his brows, and she expected him to add, at your disposal, but instead he guided her to a shorter metal ladder at the end of the corridor.
She climbed after him to the upper floor, and found herself directly outside the bridge. The portal was open, so he led her through.
Bogdi stood at the captain’s wheel and nodded to her as she entered. Gears and levers of all sizes were set into the control panel enclosing him, a kind of podium. Her fingers itched to try them all.
“All my crew is well versed in every aspect of running the ship, but Bogdi is my first mate. You may remember him from the race.”
She offered a smile. “Of course. How are you?”
The man appeared surprised she’d spoken to him, and g
ave a curt bow.
Sacha chuckled and clasped his shoulder. “Bogdi prefers work to conversation.”
“Sorry to interrupt.” She stepped to the side and looked out the window, which spanned three sides of the bridge and provided an excellent outlook of the air and landscape below. “What a spectacular view.”
Estates, with mansions set in manicured lawns, appeared like doll houses.
He inclined his head toward the portal. “I’ll show you a better one.”
A wave to Bogdi, and she followed him to the door at the end of the narrow corridor. No sooner had he opened it than a rush of wind hit her and light flooded in. He tugged the scarf he wore around his neck up to cover his hair.
“An outside deck. How delightful.” She hurried after him.
When he turned back and extended a hand, bright sunshine haloed his head and blurred some features, but his wide grin remained visible.
She took his hand and stepped out.
He grasped tight as they neared the rail. “I’ve never lost a guest overboard yet, but I prefer to err on the side of caution.”
“Hardly an error.” The thrill kept buzzing through her told her so. She’d hate for him to think she’d lost her head over him. “The captain takes responsibility for all on his ship, non?
The view grew more interesting as he drew her closer. “Oui.”
She resisted as her heart beat fast as a trapped bird’s. Her voice squeaked as she asked, “What exactly is your purpose in traveling, if it’s not too presumptuous of me?”
His shrug was casual. “Diplomatic matters. I’m somewhat of a good will ambassador, a liaison between countries.”
“For trade?”
“Sometimes. Other times to work out differences between rulers.”
He was no servant, then. She’d underestimated his role, but didn’t feel comfortable prying any further. “If I owned a ship as magnificent as Breath of the Dragon, I’d never leave it.”
He laughed. “The joy of such a ship is being able to leave it. When we land in a foreign place, the sense of adventure makes me feel like a boy again. There’s nothing like it.”
Ah, had he just opened himself to reveal a glimpse of his true nature?
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