“I’ll rebuild.” Addie spoke with no emotion. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
Hardly, but she had no right to complain. “I’m going home.”
“What? After you’ve gotten this far, you’re going to give up?” Jaw gaping, Addie stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.
Perhaps she had. “I have to put myself out on the marriage auction.”
Fury turned Addie’s mouth into a grim line. “Your stepmother put them up to this. You do realize that, don’t you? She won’t stop until she’s ruined your future.”
“I can’t bear the thought that I’m the cause of your ruin. Maybe if I marry someone rich enough, I’ll be able to repay you for all the trouble I’ve caused. Maybe my husband will even let me fly. Sometimes.” Her voice cracked at the last. The race was two weeks away, and she had no hope of entering.
Or of marrying for love. Damn that gypsy, for putting romantic notions into her head.
“Finette, stay. We’ll use the airship as temporary living quarters. We can work through this mess.”
Shame prevented her from meeting Addie’s gaze. “I have to go. I hope you can forgive me.”
Her friend might eventually find the charity in her heart, but Finette didn’t foresee a time she could forgive herself.
Chapter Six
In the cramped attic bedroom, Finette did her best to hold still while Cadence fussed with her hair. “Thank you for loaning me the gown.”
Her friend’s expanding belly bumped Finette’s arm. “I’m happy it fit you so well. I wonder if I’ll be able to wear any of my clothes again without letting out the waists.”
“You will. You look wonderful.”
Music floated through the window, reminding Finette tonight would be no ordinary ball. She was up for auction to the highest bidder. “Jacalyn expects me to choose one of them. Tonight.”
A pause, and Cadence kept combing and pinning her hair. “Perhaps one of them will enchant you.”
One man already had, but he was sailing on the winds somewhere far away. By the time he returned, she’d be engaged. Finette gulped back her heartache. All her life, she’d shared her secrets with Cadence. This time, she couldn’t. At best, her friend wouldn’t approve. At worst, she’d go into shock, and possibly premature labor. Finette couldn’t chance it.
“All done.”
The pleasant sound of Cadence in a happy mood turned Finette toward the mirror. She blinked, hardly recognizing herself. “I can’t believe it.”
Cadence’s beaming face appeared beside hers in the mirror. “Do you like it?”
Her shoulder-length auburn hair swept up on one side, held in place with pearl-headed pins, exposed her face—thick lashes around clear green eyes that stared blankly at herself. Pale rose colored her face, highlighting her cheekbones and setting off full lips, neither smiling nor serious. The sky-blue gown skimmed her shoulders, exposing delicate collar bones. The reflection captured a woman feminine and beautiful and utterly lost.
Exactly the type of girl she used to mock.
She flashed a hollow grin. “Of course. I love it. How could I not?” She rose and hugged Cadence. “Thank you for being here for me.”
“I couldn’t fail you tonight.” She stepped aside. “Let’s go sweep some handsome man off his feet.”
“You go. I need a minute.” The prick of sadness in Cadence’s face made her sorry for being selfish, but she waved her friend on. “I promise. Be careful on the stairs.”
A nod, and Cadence hitched her skirts. She left the door open when she exited.
After listening to the footsteps fade, Finette sank to the chair and stared at her reflection. Was this the woman she was doomed to become? A pretty shell with nothing inside?
“I couldn’t be you if I tried.” She rose and found the strength within her to follow through with what she’d begun. Her slippers daintily touched each step on the dark, narrow stairway to the second floor. With her head high, she strolled along the wide hallway to the main staircase leading to the first floor.
Muted conversation mixed with the lilting strains of a string quartet. Every gas lamp in the large parlor and entryway shone brightly, probably Jacalyn’s way to ensure Finette didn’t escape unnoticed. Couples strolled through the foyer, and a woman she didn’t recognize caught sight of her and announced, “Here she comes.”
Finette gulped hard. No turning back now. After bracing herself in a regal air, she pretended she was a princess about to mingle with her beloved people. They pressed closer to watch her descend, whispering to one another, their admiration plain.
The crowd parted as Jacalyn pushed through. Her stern expression gave way to surprise, then triumph. She nodded to the woman beside her. “That’s my stepdaughter.”
Halting at the bottom of the steps, Finette sent Jacalyn a cold glare, which melted when her father strode to her.
“You look lovely, dearest.” Papa kissed her cheek.
She linked arms with him, grateful for his steady strength as he guided her inside. For once, the front room appeared too small with so many visitors. Most were strangers, and the majority were men, Finette noted bitterly. Men, both virile and gray-haired, who assessed her like a horse they might consider purchasing. Her stepmother had been true to her word, and clearly intended to be rid of her.
Bile rose in her throat at the sight of Monty Royce wearing his only suit, the one he wore to funerals. Fitting enough for the occasion, she supposed. When he bowed his head to her, she turned away. Never! She would rather submit to the aged man with a cane, who adjusted his monocle to get a better view of her.
“Do you have a chill?” Papa asked.
“No, why?”
He patted her hand. “You’re trembling.”
Was she? “I’m fine.” So long as she could remain attached to him and ignore everyone else.
Unexpectedly, he broke away. “I’ll get you a drink.”
She felt strangely alone in this sea of people. The weight of their stares registered. Some friendly, some bored. Some, like her sisters, reeked of envy.
Cadence approached, her bright smile welcoming. “They are all falling in love with you,” she said in a hushed tone.
Through her false smile, Finette whispered, “Then they’re all fools.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because this isn’t me.”
“You’ll have the rest of your lives to get to know one another.”
Finette understood her friend meant to comfort her, but the words sent a chill to her core. The rest of her life—it sounded like a prison sentence. If she could opt for the gallows, she’d gladly give her head.
A short, rotund man waddled up to her, grabbed her hand and slobbered a kiss onto it. “Mademoiselle Proulx, my name is Monsieur Gaylord Rousseau. I’m proprietor of the…”
His words faded in the air as she feigned interest. A penguin, that’s what he reminded her of. From the shiny black shoes to his beakish nose to his nasal voice.
Cadence had abandoned her. “Will you excuse me, monsieur?” Finette brushed past him.
Papa pressed a glass into her hand. “Here, you might need this.”
She sipped. Wine, thank goodness. “Merci.” As the parade of eligible bachelors began anew, she gulped. Soon, her glass was empty and provided an excuse to send a man to fetch her another. Unfortunately, yet another male waited to speak to her, and the doorman announced a newly arrived visitor all too often.
The effect of the alcohol began to blur the edges of her harsh reality. She no longer needed to force a smile, but had to hold back her laughter when men said something ridiculous to her. After she snorted, her stepmother loomed in her face.
“Do not embarrass me tonight.” Jacalyn snatched the glass from Finette’s hand. The sudden smile that bloomed gave her a clownish appearance, and she shoved a man at Finette. “Why don’t you dance with my stepdaughter?”
The tall man with gray sideburns had already introduced himself t
o her, yet she couldn’t recall his name. “But there’s no room, Madame Proulx.” The formal title distanced Finette from her father’s wife. She’d no longer suffer the woman calling her a daughter.
Jacalyn’s pudgy hands nudged them along. “Closer to the windows.”
A night breeze cooled her brow. Finette let the man guide her nearer the open air to dilute his musty scent. A lifetime of the odor would surely suffocate her, but she offered a polite smile.
Someone tapped on the man’s shoulder. “May I cut in?” Corvin smiled down at her and stepped between them. “My, you do clean up nicely.”
“So do you.” Her neighbor had combed his blond hair, his brown eyes were clear—for the moment. “Thank you for saving me.”
He shrugged. “I heard you were up for auction, so I wanted to put in my bid.”
He remembered? “Corrie…”
“Before you say no, let me remind you that I am rich. And perfectly agreeable to you flying off in your airship whenever you’d like. So long as you turn a blind eye to my affairs.”
“If you’re serious…” This might be her chance. Her only opportunity to still have the life she’d dreamed.
“As a heart attack, ma chere.”
Of course, everyone would see through their ruse. But what did she care? She’d never have a real marriage anyway.
Over the din, the doorman’s voice carried the name, “Prince Aleksander Dragomir Dalca.”
Had she imagined it? “Sacha?” She strained to see past the throng. When she glimpsed the fury pinching Monty’s face, her heart raced. “Excuse me.” She pushed from Corvin’s embrace and crossed the crowded room.
A strikingly handsome man stood in the entryway, dressed in a white silk suit with gold fringe at his broad shoulders. A gold string held back his long, black hair. His sternness magnified his imposing appearance.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. If she hadn’t heard the name, she might not have recognized him. Her slippered feet glided ahead, drawn to him to see if he was a figment of her imagination, something she dreamed up in her desperation, or whether he was real. The latter seemed the least possible.
But when she reached out to touch his hand, she knew it was true. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
His gaze took her in as if she were a stranger. “I can’t believe you’re here either,” he teased.
Yes, all her protests had been for naught. “I’ve already ruined Addie’s life. I can’t ruin my family’s lives, too.”
He quirked a brow. “You make an adorable sacrificial lamb.”
She inclined her head in regal acknowledgment. “Tonight has become quite the masquerade. And what are you supposed to be?”
“The handsome prince, of course.” He tugged at his jacket lapels. “A very uncomfortable prince.”
“Too bad you’re not a real one.” Had the doorman really introduced him that way?
He clicked his heels and bowed. “Aleksander Dragomir Dalca, son of King Vladomir Varujan, at your service.”
Son of King Varujan? “But…” Her mouth gaped. “You’re not a servant to the royal family?”
Something like a half-huff, half-chuckle burst from him. “I’m a slave to their command. Unfortunately, I’m also my father’s youngest.” He held a finger to his lips. “The bastard son,” he whispered.
How could she have been so blind? Seeing him now, it seemed so obvious. He was no man’s servant. Turned out, Monty wasn’t good for anything after all. She’d never trust another thing the fool man said.
Still, he was the Sacha she knew and dearly loved. “You make a very dashing prince. But somehow the formal look doesn’t suit you.”
His eyes crinkled in amusement. “Nor you, milady. You’re beautiful, but you look very uncomfortable.”
Thank goodness, he understood. “I am.” She pulled at the skirts, the waist too tight.
He crooked his elbow. “Shall we go?”
On a flight of fancy? No flight could last forever. Her heart nearly explodes with sorrow. “If only I had somewhere to go.”
He relaxed his arm. “You do. You belong to the sky.”
She shook her head. “The sky is for dreamers. And princes.” Like him. People who were free.
He pinned her with a skeptical look. “Aren’t you a dreamer?”
Ashamed, she twisted her fingers in front of her. “A penniless one.”
“The race is next week.”
She tried to hold back her sob, the sound of her heart breaking into two. “I hope you win again.”
He captured her attention with that particular way he had of making her feel like she was the only woman—the only person—in the room.
“You will win.” He took her hand in his, thumb stroking her fingers. “You are the best pilot. You have the fastest aircraft.”
She blinked back tears. “Did you come here to torture me?”
“No. To free you from your gilded cage.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your entry fee for the British Diamond Cup is paid. I expect to see you on that field next week with your flying machine.”
Gripping his hands to steady herself, she could hardly believe her ears. “But I can’t…”
“Why not?”
She had to tell him the truth. “The aeroplane was damaged. There was a fire at Addie’s.”
“I will help you with repairs.” He said it as if he’d already known. “You will fly in the race, Finette.”
She searched his face. “Why are you doing all this for me?”
He held her gaze. “Do you need to ask?”
She knew, or thought she did, but needed to hear it from his lips. “Yes.”
He gave the briefest of nods. “Because since the day I met you, I can think of no one else. When I wake up, my first thought is you. I long to tell you things that happen to me, or humorous things so I can hear the music of your laughter. My arms ache to hold you. I want to show you the world so I can see it anew through your eyes.”
She was dizzy with happiness. It seemed too unreal, like a dream—like one of her fantasies that couldn’t possibly be true.
He leaned closer. “And you were right. Your dragon is much more terrifying.” He glanced at Jacalyn, who watched from across the room, her face the very portrait of a gargoyle.
Finette no longer feared her stepmother’s roar, and her fiery breath would no longer singe her skin.
Maybe Sacha was right. Maybe dreams could become real. “I made something for you. Wait here.” She hitched her skirts and hoped her slippers wouldn’t trip her on the staircase.
“Come back quickly,” he called after her.
She hated to leave him at all for fear he’d vanish in a puff of smoke, a figment of her imagination. She rushed up to her room. Her hair tumbled from the clip as she pushed inside the attic and unlocked the secret panel in the wall. She rushed downstairs with the clockwork dragon.
He appeared delighted as he examined it. “You made this for me?”
Afraid to speak, she nodded.
He held it as if it were delicate blown glass. “It’s magnificent.”
“If you press this lever beneath the wing, the dragon flies.”
He pressed the wing, and the dragon circled low over the heads of gasping guests. He raised his hand as the dragon returned and he easily caught it.
“It always comes back,” she told him.
He kissed her cheek. “So will I.”
The world seemed to come to a standstill, suspended on this moment. The moment she must seize happiness, or allow others to control her life. “I don’t want to be left behind anymore.”
“Then come with me. Now.”
She didn’t know what the question was, but whatever he’d proposed, she said, “Yes.”
“Perhaps you wish to change?” He pointedly glanced at her gown.
“Oh! Do I have time?”
“All the time in the world.”
Definitely not a prison sentence
when he said it. “I’ll be right back.”
She ran upstairs again and slammed the door. From the trunk, she drew out the flight uniform. Soon after the twins tried to ruin them, she’d carefully sewn each torn thread. She’d waited so long, but tonight, she’d finally wear it.
She stripped fast and was fastening the buttons to the shirt when Jacalyn pounded on the door.
“Open up. You get downstairs this instant and tell that… that… person to leave. You will not ruin my plans.”
Finette huffed and punched an arm into the jacket. Her plans? What a joke.
More thumping. “Right now, missy. Go socialize and find a decent man. Because one way or another, you will marry one of them.”
She adjusted the shirt sleeves beneath the jacket at her wrist, then perched the purple top hat on her head. With one peek in the mirror, she smoothed her hair. She was ready.
Her stepmother kicked the door and screeched. “Do not force me to break down this door.”
Trembling with fury, Finette threw open the door. Jacalyn stumbled forward with an Oomph, then straightened. Face flushed redder than the rouge she wore, Jacalyn’s glare faded when she met Finette’s cool smile.
Dragging her gaze from Finette’s hat to her boots, her stepmother tsk’d in disgust. “What are you wearing?”
This pitiful, unfeeling person wasn’t worthy of her anger, so Finette released hers with a laugh. “Travel clothes.” She jogged downstairs, leaving Jacalyn bustling behind.
At the bottom, Corvin stared up at her. “I’ve lost you already.”
She stepped into his embrace and hugged him. “Oh, Corrie.”
He whispered in her ear, “If you didn’t snatch him up, I’d try to. He is gorgeous.”
She cupped his cheek. “You’ll find happiness.”
“I’m glad you did, at least.” Reluctantly, he released her.
Aware of everyone’s gaze pointed at her, she searched for only one man. There he stood, exactly where she’d left him, waiting patiently. The string quartet kept up a lively tune, but conversations had ceased except for inaudible whispers.
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