Finette bumped her head on the slanted ceiling. “Ow.”
At the click of the lock, she whirled, took hold of the knob and jiggled, but it didn’t budge. “You can’t lock me in here.”
A haughty huff. “I already did.”
Heavy, slow footsteps and the creak of straining wood against her stepmother’s weight told Finette that Jacalyn was descending.
She banged on the door for what seemed like forever. “Let me out. Papa?” Surely, he hadn’t approved of his wife’s plan. Had he?
Panicking, she pounded harder. “Jacalyn, be reasonable.”
What a joke. She leaned her head against the wood. “Please.”
No one came. She hadn’t expected anyone to save her. She turned and let her gaze wander. This tiny space had been her sole refuge for many years, and now Jacalyn had made her hate it.
Someone had draped the gown across her bed. As promised, the putrid color and equally horrible style would shame the wearer. Finette did not intend to be that person.
Whoever had delivered the gown had also rifled through the papers on her small writing desk, and the mattress sat askew as if they’d searched beneath there, too. Fear tightened her chest as her gaze shot to the narrow closet. She rushed over and stood on tiptoe, groping at the back of the top shelf. Her fingers found the small sack of coins, and she nearly melted with relief. They hadn’t stolen her earnings from selling gadgets, at least.
Once upon a time, Finette had a happy life. The glimmer of that distant time burned bright in her mind and gave her strength. She would have a happy life again.
I must get out.
She strode the few paces to the window and raised the sash. She leaned out across the sill to assess the possibility of a jump—she’d survive, but likely break a bone or two. Her sheets were worn so threadbare, they wouldn’t support her weight if she used them as a rope.
Not ready to give up, she tapped her cheek. Think. She was an inventor, after all. She should be able to come up with something.
Addie’s mechanical carriage arrived outside and waited for her in the gravel drive. Irrationally, Finette leaned out the window and called to it. “I need help!”
In the house below, a door slammed. Jacalyn stomped out to the carriage, skirts hitched, and kicked the wheel. “Be gone!”
With a snorted puff of steam, the carriage lurched forward like a startled rabbit and chugged away, taking Finette’s hopes with it. She slumped against the window in despair.
If only Sacha hadn’t sped off. Who knew when he’d be back. She had no way to get word to him when he traveled the world. Or any other time…
She pulled the trunk close and pressed the grommets in sequence. The lid popped open, and she sorted through various clockwork parts. At least she could do something useful with her time. An idea took root in her mind, and she began to work. After a few hours, she examined it and gave a satisfied nod. With a few more details, the project appeared well constructed enough to present to Sacha.
The day eventually passed into evening. Finette only noticed when her stomach grumbled. She should have thought to grab more fruit from the kitchen. Her captors apparently could care less if she starved.
At a tap, tap against the glass pane, she turned. The sight of a rope ladder wavering within reach made her gasp.
She leapt to her feet and twisted to peer upward. The silhouette of an airship loomed dark against the starry sky. Cloudbreaker!
Addie’s hushed voice called, “Get up here. Hurry.”
No need to ask her twice. After retrieving the coin sack from the trunk, Finette slammed the lid shut to lock it, then stuffed a few essentials into her pockets and down her shirt. She pushed one leg out the window as she caught the ladder with one hand, and squeezed the rest of her through. Her footing was precarious at best, and she grappled to steady herself on the ladder, then clambered up as fast as she dared.
“How did you know?” She hurriedly helped Addie secure the ladder inside the ship.
“When you weren’t at the hangar, I checked the carriage. The interior control display read, ‘I need help.’ So here I am.”
So the brougham had heard her after all, and registered her call. “I am forever indebted to you.”
“You owe me nothing except friendship. Now let’s get out of here before your stepmother sees us.” Addie steered the airship hard to starboard and they sailed away.
Finette watched as the house grew smaller until it looked like a child’s dollhouse. No child would play such cruel games. How had everything turned so unbelievably absurd? Did Jacalyn harbor hatred against her to prevent any chance at happiness?
Finette only pitied her stepmother. Acidic emotions would eat away at Jacalyn and leave her an empty, bitter shell. Finette would never allow herself to become like her.
“Did you have a good trip? Tell me everything.” She settled in the chair beside Addie’s, eager for news. Weariness wrapped around her like a blanket. Addie’s voice acted like a lullaby on her, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. It seemed mere moments later that her friend gently shook her shoulder and said, “We’re home.”
On a sharp inhale, Finette jerked awake. “I don’t want to go home.”
“My home,” Addie gently corrected her.
She rubbed her eyes. “Sorry.”
“I hated to wake you, but you’ll sleep better on the sofa. Well, a little better.”
A nod, and she followed Addie down the ladder and into the living quarters attached to the hangar. Her bleary eyes took in only the details she needed to find the sofa and fall atop it. A blanket fluttered down, and Addie tucked it around her with a whispered, “Sweet dreams.”
Finette had never felt so safe and cozy. She sailed away on dreams of flying, and Sacha riding behind her, his laughter like music.
***
Soft singing roused Finette. The aroma of rich coffee teased her palate, and she blinked against the bright sunshine. Lifting up on her elbows, she squinted. “Addie?”
“Hey, sleepy head.” Addie held up a cup. “Looks like you need some java.”
She wrapped the blanket around her and padded across the Oriental rug, as dear and familiar to her as the other pieces in Addie’s quarters, all mementos from her travels. The ornate tin table from Morocco. The Chinese paper lantern in a delicate floral, a contrast to the carved wooden bowl from deepest Africa. The floor pillows from Japan, the teapot and cups with no handles. All of Addie’s things served a purpose except for the clockwork rooster Finette had given her, which was purely for nostalgia. After Addie mentioned missing the farm animals she’d grown up with, Finette created one that would crow, but only when stroked along its tail feathers. Addie sometimes took it with her on long trips to keep her company, or to tease her first mate when he crowed about his female conquests.
Finette stretched. “What time is it?”
“Nearly seven.” Addie frowned. “I have to leave soon.”
Only then did Finette notice Addie wore a fresh uniform and smelled of lavender soap. “Already?” She’d hoped to spend the day together.
“Wish I could stay, but—” Addie shrugged. “—I can’t afford to turn down business.”
“Of course.” She forced a grin. “We’ll catch up when you return.”
“Yes, I’ll be back in two days, and I want to hear everything. The aeroplane looks wonderful, by the way.”
She braced herself. “She flies well, too.”
Addie’s mouth gaped. “You didn’t take it up alone?”
She shook her head. “I kept my promise. Sacha flew with me.”
“Ohhh,” Addie happily sing-songed.
“He acted as if he knew I’d be here.” Finette watched Addie carefully. “Did you tell him?” The idea sounded ludicrous, but how else could he have known?
“Me?” Addie sputtered, then turned away. “How would I have told him?”
Interesting. “You never did tell me who the aeroplane belonged to.”
Her shoulders lifted to her ears in a ridiculous shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
The clock began to chime.
Outside, Adrien called, “Hello? Isn’t today a work day?”
With one quick gulp of coffee, she spun toward the door. “Oops, gotta go. You’ll have to tell me everything later.”
“Can I do anything for you? Errands? Chores?”
“Relax. You’ve been working hard for weeks. Besides, you’re better off staying put.” A wave, and she flew outside.
“Safe travels,” Finette called. She watched the airship lift and spin toward the rising sun. The glare soon blotted out her view, so she closed the door and readied herself for the day.
Addie was right. No point going anywhere. Finette wouldn’t chance an encounter with Jacalyn or the twins. The thought of visiting her father to plead with him gave her a twinge of nausea. Had his wife truly turned him against Finette? She shook her head sadly. Poor Papa, he had so many worries. Finette only added to them, but she’d not allow guilt to dissuade her. Not when she was so close.
But relax? She wondered if she still knew how. A glance around the flat, and she began straightening up. It was the least she could do for her friend. My savior. The thought brought a bitter chuckle. The events of yesterday still seemed surreal. Her options had narrowed to one: the race. More than ever, she had to win.
With Addie’s quarters tidied, Finette went out to the hangar. Her earlier cleanup left her with little to do but straighten the tools. By afternoon, she was left with nothing to do, so went back inside the flat. She stopped in front of the bookcase and studied the titles. One exotic tome caught her attention. “Kama Sutra.” She leafed through the pages slowly. Drawn in by the colorful images, she imagined herself and Sacha in each erotic pose. “Impossible,” she whispered, but couldn’t put the book down.
Even as the idea struck to soak in a bath, she remained absorbed in the images as she moved to heat the water and fill the claw-foot tub. She hadn’t indulged in a proper bath in ages, but the book came with her. She stepped over the high ceramic side and slid beneath the hot water. The ghostly spirit of Sacha immediately appeared, his naked skin again sliding over hers. Her insides tightened with need, and he answered by pulling back his hips and with one powerful stroke, sheathed himself within her.
The memory of him moving inside her brought a throaty groan. She nearly lost her grip on the book, so held it high to keep it dry. Another few pages, and a wildness took root in her. She set the book on the stool beside the tub, closed her eyes and ran her hands across her body as Sacha had. The steam was like his warm breath at the hollow of her neck as fingers circled her breast, palm scraping her nipple, then tweaking.
“Sacha,” she breathed, eyes shut tight as hands grazed her hips, smoothed inside her thigh, then pushed her legs open. Her back arched as fingers slipped inside her, again and again, taking her to the same heights as Sacha had. Her moan echoed as she found release, and languorously slowed the motion until the last shudder of her body.
She reclined in the tub a long while, missing him. When the water cooled, she sighed and scrubbed her skin with the bar of lavender soap. Stepping out of the bath, she eyed the book.
The art of making love. Something to be practiced, but with whom? A dearest love, or someone who simply knew how to heighten the pleasure? Which did Sacha consider her to be?
Certainly not the latter. She’d felt clumsy with him, though he exuded patience, and guided her when needed.
After drying her skin, she grabbed the kimono from the wall hook and put it on. She carried the book out, returned it to the shelf, then selected a less titillating title to read. After settling on the sofa, she hugged a pillow to her chest and lost herself in the book.
***
A noise echoed from within the hangar. Finette’s eyes flew open. She sat up on the sofa, where she must have drifted off before dusk because darkness shrouded the flat.
At a clang, she tiptoed to listen at the door. She could barely discern the hushed whispers and footsteps, but there was no mistaking the fact that someone had broken into the hangar. For what possible reason? She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to clear her groggy mind. Had they come to pilfer Addie’s tools? Possibly—her friend had some unique ones from around the world. Another thought froze her. Oh no, the aeroplane. What if they aimed to steal that?
No matter the reason, they clearly didn’t belong here at this hour. Any legitimate business person conducted deals before nightfall. The cold of the floor boards chilled her toes as she crept past the Japanese silk curtain dividing the sleeping area from the rest of the flat. She groped the floor beneath the mattress. Please be here. Hard metal met her fingertips, and she drew out the rifle. It had been ages since Addie had taken her for shooting practice. Hopefully fear wouldn’t cloud her memory.
Easing open the door, she pointed the barrel out. Straining to see in the darkness, she stilled, waiting for her sight to adjust or for them to reveal themselves.
One silhouette stood out against the pegboard wall. “All set?” Definitely a man.
“Almost.” Another man.
“Hurry.” The first again. Hopefully only two had invaded. They were up to no good.
She had to chase them. “Who’s there?” The words came out in a squeak, but enough to frighten the two to a standstill. She cleared her throat and forced the question out louder. “Who’s there!”
At a brilliant flare, she shielded her eyes. In the bright light, she recognized one of the two men running away. Antoine. The other had blond hair, so might have been Monty, but he’d run off first, so fast she couldn’t get a good look.
What she’d initially taken for lamplight began to spread. Fire raced in a straight line toward the back of the hangar and climbed the rear wall as if trained to perform.
Running on pure adrenaline, she hurried down the steps into the hangar. She halted and drew up the gun to get a bead on one of them, but saw no trace of movement in the darkness outside. Intense heat pushed at her from behind. She whirled, and an icicle of panic hit her in the chest. Flames licked up past the roof. How could it have spread so fast? The aeroplane sat unharmed, but not for long. She rushed in, released the manual brake, and pushed the flying machine. Through sheer force of will, she managed to inch the aeroplane outside just before the hangar fell in burning scraps to the ground behind her.
The two men ran from the outside of the structure below Addie’s quarters.
The money! She sprinted inside, risking the intense heat. Heavy smoke shielded her view, and burned like acid in her throat. Coughing didn’t clear it, so she raised her arm and plunged ahead. Everything was upended, and the place where she’d hidden her money was empty.
“No!” She pounded a fist against the floor.
The flames roared at the entryway, forcing her backward. The window provided the only escape now, so she tossed her clothes out first, then clambered over the ledge. The carriage sat below, so she lowered onto its roof, then climbed inside. A few hurried punches to buttons and levers got the carriage moving, and she halted it beside the aeroplane, a safe distance from the blazing hangar.
Shock numbed her disbelief as flames engulfed the structure. How had this happened? How had she let this happen? Addie’s business might not recover from such a blow. Helpless, she watched until there was nothing left but a pile of smoking rubble. The horizon splashed orange and red with the rising sun, a mocking reminder of her failure. She had no hope of helping Addie to recover from this enormous loss, or helping herself to recover from her penniless state.
The full impact didn’t strike her until the airship Cloudbreaker approached. The long wail from within nearly broke Finette’s heart. Pressed against the window, Addie’s face contorted with horror, and the string of curses made Finette cringe.
One metal pole of the docking station remained, so Finette secured the airship’s anchor line to it. The hatch popped open, and before the rope ladder had touched the gro
und, Addie was scrambling down.
“Oh my God, what happened? Finette, are you all right?”
A sob burst from Finette. “Yes.” How could Addie consider her well-being in the face of such loss?
Gesturing helplessly, Addie stared at the ruins. “I can’t… What on earth…”
Tears streamed down Finette’s cheeks. “Someone sabotaged the hangar.”
Addie turned wide-eyed to her. “I don’t understand. Who would do such a thing?”
“It was dark, so I couldn’t see them clearly, but I think one of the men was Antoine Thierry.”
Addie shook her head in confusion. “Who?”
“Monty’s friend.”
“Why would he want to harm me?” Then realization seemed to strike her, and she turned her blank stare on Finette. She only repeated, “I don’t understand.” A sharp breath, and Addie ripped the goggles from her head and slammed them to the ground. “Goddammit!” She pressed shaking hands to her face, then swiped away a tear. “Sorry for that.”
“You have every right to be angry. I’m so sorry.” Such futile, empty words.
After thick silence in which Addie seemed to be absorbing all that had happened, she blew a long breath. “At least you saved the carriage. Too bad the aeroplane’s damaged.”
“What?” Finette hurried to her friend, and bit her lip. “I thought…”
A gaping gash in the aeroplane’s rear might have been fixable, but the rudder wires dangled in useless threads. Even if Finette had the money to repair it, she doubted she could finish in time. Compared to Addie’s losses, the aeroplane counted for nothing.
“I’ll do whatever I can to make this up to you.”
Addie squeezed her shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is. I fell asleep, and by the time I got the rifle, they’d already started the fire.” Anger made her clench her fists. Arson. Such a cowardly act. Definitely Monty’s style.
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