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.”
Chapter 34
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.
“Did you take lessons from Eades to be able to do that?”
“Who do you think taught him?” Dansby said. He grasped her elbow and got her moving down the corridor again. “May I assume our work here is done and we may make haste to leave?”
“No, it is not. I’ve yet to meet with Commodore Balestra.”
“All night closeted with one of her lieutenants and you couldn’t pass the bloody messages along?”
“I didn’t have my tablet with me, now did I?”
Dansby stopped and turned her to face him. He looked her over.
“No, I suppose you didn’t …” He frowned. “You look different somehow.”
Alexis flushed.
Dansby raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I see. Well, at least one of us had a productive evening.” He started back toward Röslein. “For myself, I spent the night moving from place to place in a rather exposed corridor so that I could keep an eye on where you’d gone.” He glanced at her again. “I’d have sought entertainment for myself, if I’d known you were in such good hands.”
Chapter 35
“You are well, ma belle?”
Alexis shook her head. They were stopped in a side corridor a few intersections from the theatre where the opera had been held on their way to the reception. Alexis’ head was still pounding from the performance — some sort of epic filled with winged women, horned helmets, and a score that she suspected consisted of invisible trolls roaming the audience to strike the watchers’ heads with stone mallets.
She raised a hand to her temple, rubbing gently. “Will the pounding ever stop?”
Delaine chuckled. “Be glad it was only the one.”
Alexis’ eyes widened. “There’s more of it?”
“Cinq, five, I think.These are almost the national event of le Hanovre.”
She shook her head in wonder.
“If you are not well, perhaps this is not wise. I will make your excuses to Herr Reinacher.”
She’d seen Reinacher before the performance and at intermission, but briefly both times as he merely said hello and rushed off. But he’d said, through Delaine, how much he looked forward to seeing her at the reception. The attention was unnerving, given that he’d said so very little to her and who he was. She was beginning to wonder if Delaine hadn’t been correct and she should have boarded Röslein and sailed that morning. On the other hand, if Reinacher’s interest was innocent — or, at least, more prurient than suspicious — she would only draw attention to Delaine and Balestra by running. Attention they could ill afford as the Berry March fleet was already under some suspicion.
“What can happen at a reception?” she asked. “A bit of food, a bit of drink, and then we’ll say good night.” She laced her arm through his and hugged it tightly to her. “Perhaps a few words with Commodore Balestra, and I may transfer the messages to her.” She felt her tablet through the thin material of the small bag she carried. She had a moment’s regret that her dress, like the one she’d worn the night before, was ill-suited to concealing a weapon.
“I worry about Herr Reinacher’s interest.”
“We’ve discussed that — my failure to attend and disappearance would pique his suspicions more.”
Delaine nodded. “Still, I worry.”
The reception was held in a large compartment near the opera. The space took up two levels of the station and was large enough that Alexis thought she could see a hint of the station’s curve in it. The balcony around the second level was less crowded and had many alcoves and rooms branching off it for privacy. The lower level was crowded with people and small tables around a central dance floor.
Dancing. Why must there always be dancing?
Alexis and Delaine wandered through the crowd on the lower level. Alexis caught sight of Balestra several times, but she was always surrounded by a group of other officers and Delaine shook his head, whispering, “Too many of le Hanovre about her. She will find a time to leave them and will meet us above. Much business is discussed here” He nodded at the balcony. “There are rooms above for discussion or —” He raised an eyebrow. “— more intimate things.”
Alexis flushed. Much as she longed for a repeat of the more intimate things of the night before, she was quite certain she wouldn’t be able to appreciate them properly with a hall full of people right outside the door, no matter how private the rooms were.
Delaine laughed. He leaned close to her ear and whispered. “Too much of New London, still. You should be more Française.” He stepped back toward the dance floor and held out his hand. “Instead will you dance, mon cœur?”
Alexis snorted. “I’ve two or more left feet, I’m afraid.”
“Surely not.” He took her hand. “Come, please.”
Alexis shrugged and took his hand, muttering, “On your own head.”
Delaine led her to the dance floor just as the music stopped.
Alexis raised an eyebrow. “A sign that this is a poor idea, do you think?”
Delaine smiled as the music started again, a slow number. He pulled her close, hand on her hip. “Signs and signs, oui?” He started her into the dance. “You see?” he whispered. “It is not so — ow. Ma cocotte, you must move where — simply follow, yes? Ow. Non.” He laughed. “You do not like to follow.”
“I did warn you.”
Delaine stopped and looked her in the eye for a long moment, then leaned close to whisper in her ear, the feel of his breath sending a shiver through her. “Do you trust me, Alexis?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.
“Close your eyes.” Delaine pulled back so he could see her face. “Close them.” He leaned in again as she did so. “Move with me, mon amour.”
* * *
The music ended far too soon for Alexis. Delaine slowed to a stop and she with him, eyes still closed and held tightly to him.
There may be something to this dancing business after all.
It certainly was nice once she let go and got the hang of it. Not nearly so nice as how she and Delaine had spent the night before, but it could be done in public. Odd that once she’d relaxed and simply trusted Delaine she’d had no trouble with it at all. She’d have to think on that once she had a moment.
Alexis felt Delaine tense and opened her eyes to find Reinacher approaching, a wide, toothy smile on his face.
“Leutnant Theibaud, Fraulein Aubert —” she heard, and that was all she understood as Reinacher and Delaine exchanged words. Once or twice Reinacher gestured to her and she smiled in return, but other than that she was completely in the dark as to the topic of conversation.
Alexis scanned the hall while the two talked, Delaine clearly only responding to Reinacher’s prompts. The crowd, for all that they were Hanoverese, seemed normal and happy to her, not the rampant warmongers described by Mister Eades. If anything, they seemed far more relaxed and easygoing than a similar gathering in New London, at least in the systems Alexis had exper
ience with, though not nearly so much as the French on Nouvelle Paris.
Then again, it would be quite difficult to outdo them, I think.
A sharp ping cut through the thrum of nearby conversations and drew Alexis’ attention. Delaine frowned and pulled out his tablet, frowning more as he read from it. He put it away and spoke to Reinacher again, smiling shrugging apologetically. He grasped Alexis’ arm and started to step away. Alexis assumed he’d received some message from his ship and was making his excuses to Reinacher to have to leave, which, frankly, relieved her, but then Reinacher laid a hand on her arm and spoke, smiling more broadly. A chill ran through Alexis and she could imagine what was being said.
I’m sorry, Herr Reinacher, but I’m called to attend my ship and we must leave.
Nein, Leutnant Theibaud, surely Fraulein Aubert would prefer to remain here.
Delaine was speaking again and then Reinacher. Alexis could tell that they were simply repeating themselves and worried that Delaine’s insistence that she leave with him would seem odd. She laid a hand on Delaine’s arm and spoke quickly as he’d told her too, stumbling a bit over a word or two and hoping Reinacher wouldn’t notice.
“Prenez soin de votre bateau bête, Delaine. Monsieur Reinacher me divertira.” Take care of your silly boat, Delaine. Reinacher will entertain me.
Delaine looked at her shocked and she willed him to understand. If they argued too much, it would only incite more suspicion. She could spend a time pretending she didn’t understand a word Reinacher said and then excuse herself. She’d make her way back to Röslein and retire for the night, then try to contact Balestra the next day.
Je ne comprends pas, will be the most Reinacher gets from me. A useful phrase, that.
Delaine paused, then nodded. He said something to Reinacher, leaned close to Alexis on the side away from the other man, and whispered.
“Fais attention á toi.” Take care.
The Little Ships (Alexis Carew Book 3) Page 21