by Jess Schira
She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the man’s dark eyes grew even colder. “Considering how high the stakes are, I am surprised you dare offer me excuses.”
Saika remained motionless for a moment and waited for the hot rush of helpless anger to abate. “In addition to all the guests, there are several guards all of who will give their lives in order to stop me. If I’m to be successful, I need to find somewhere quite where no one can act as a witness or stop me.”
She slipped her fingers through the slit in the side of her skirt and ran the pad of her thumb along the edge of the embroidered pocket that was hidden between the outer skirt and petticoat. Though pockets had fallen out of fashion a few years earlier, Saika continued to insist all of her dresses be designed to accommodate them. She found the trend of carrying a reticule everywhere she went tedious.
Tonight her pockets provided her with the perfect place to hide her kaiken dagger. No one who looked at her would realize she carried the dagger, yet she could also have it in her hand as soon as she needed it without having to waste time to fumble with a reticule latch. Yes, the pockets were the perfect solution.
She brushed her hand against the pocket and curled her fingers into the thin layer of embroidered silk that served as a barrier between herself and the blade. She took comfort in the weapon’s presence even as she fought the urge to draw the kaiken and bury it up to its hilt in Mr. Lovelace’s chest. One quick thrust and he would be out of her life forever.
The knowledge her problems would fail to die with him was all that prevented her from acting on the burning need to rid him from her life. Soon, her blade would pierce his flesh, but not tonight.
Unaware of the directions her thoughts had turned, Mr. Lovelace leaned closer. “I suggest you remedy the situation. Remember, it’s in your best interest to bring this matter to a rapid conclusion.”
“We choose you because of your unique skills, you’re supposed to be unstoppable. Your talent makes you special.”
Saika caught the inside of her cheek between her teeth and bit down, the sharp pain helped her maintain a passive facade. No one would suspect beads of sweat raced the length of her spine or nerves twisted her stomach into a series of painful knots.
Special was the last thing Saika wanted to be. If given a choice, she’d sell her soul to be ordinary but it wasn’t possible. For reasons beyond her control, her soul was fated to be condemned.
The man’s mouth contorted into a sneer. “When, where, and how you complete your task is none of my concern, so long as I gets completed.”
Saika brushed bits of spittle from her face and searched for an appropriate response.
“My apologies.”
Saika spun around as another man stopped beside her. His full mouth twisted into a self-deprecating smile that failed to reach his gray eyes. “I do hate to interrupt, but the night continues to grow older and I wished to ask this charming young lady if she would do me the honor of being my partner for the next dance.”
Mr. Lovelace huffed out an impatient breath and shot Saika a dark glare. “She is all yours,” he said, his voice smooth and without a hint of the malice that colored it when he spoke to Saika. He sounded like a proper gentleman. “I have other business to attend to.”
The newcomer and Saika watched the man disappear into the crowd before the stranger turned to her and extended his hand. “Miss …?”
“Saika Donavon.”
She saw a flash of surprise brighten his eyes before he captured her fingers and lifted her hand to press a feather soft kiss to the back of it.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” Saika didn’t have time to be polite. This man was a distraction she could ill afford.
“Sebastian Harper.” The man’s smile grew a little wider and he nodded to her. “I saw you and thought it was a shame someone so beautiful should be alone and decided it was my duty to rectify the matter. Would you do me the pleasure of honoring me with a dance?”
Saika opened her mouth. She had every intention of rejecting him, but before the first word escaped, Sebastian Harper captured her hand, tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow, and guided her from the ornamental tree.
Sebastian Harper didn’t lead her to the center of the ballroom where dancers prepared to dance the quadrille. Instead, he moved past the densest part of the crowd and to the far side of the room where he located a pair of chairs. He gestured to one of them. “Please, sit and relax.”
Saika hesitated and pondered the best way to handle the newest development. “You requested a dance, not a seat.”
“I lied,” Sebastian said without remorse. “I wanted an opportunity to learn a bit about the mysterious woman who has been lurking on the edges of the festivities all night long. Inviting you to dance seemed like the best solution, but after I asked I realized it’s very difficult to sustain any type of conversation while dancing.”
Saika played with her left earring while she eyed Sebastian. Something about the man felt … off. His manners couldn’t be faulted, yet each time he spoke, she sensed the words were more of an order than a request. Then there was the odd reaction she had each time his eyes met hers. They triggered a strange little quiver that started in her stomach and worked its way south. She didn’t like the sensation at all.
Her gaze traveled to the far side of the ballroom where it landed on Mr. Lovelace who appeared to be engaged in a conversation with two pretty young women, though his eyes continued to watch her every move. She decided Sebastian was the least bothersome of her troubles and sat on the chair. Sebastian pulled the other chair around so it faced her and sat down. He crossed his right ankle over his left knee.
For a few moments they sat together and watched the dancers swirl by.
Sebastian broke the silence. “It isn’t often anyone with the surname Donovan graces the Queen’s Lodge, and I certainly didn’t anticipate your accent when I approached you.”
Saika tensed. Had he singled her out because of her birthplace? It had happened to her several times before. Sebastian’s tone didn’t carry any of the censure she’d received from other’s when they learned of her past, but that didn’t mean he would continue to remain nonjudgmental. “I’m from Ireland. Dublin, to be precise. I moved to London with my family about four years ago.”
“Yet your face, it’s lovely, but I don’t believe I’ve met a woman with features such as yours.”
Saika brushed her fingertips across her nose, which was shorter and flatter than most women’s and framed by a pair of high cheekbones. “My grandfather was born in Japan. He was an explorer who eventually settled in Ireland where he met my grandmother and created a family. I’ve been told I bear a striking resemblance to him, more so than my siblings.”
Sebastian leaned forward in his chair and threaded his fingers together. “Ah, so your part Japanese.”
“Yes.”
“Ah, now your first name seems more sensible than when you first gave it to me.”
Saika’s startled brown eyes met Sebastian’s grey ones which gleamed with intelligence.
“The name is quite unusual. I assume your grandfather selected it.”
“Yes. When I was born, he asked my mother, his daughter, to honor his own mother by giving me her name. He hoped I’d become as great a woman as she was.” Saika looked down at her hands and swallowed. She’d done the opposite and embarked on a journey destined to condemn her soul and bring shame on her family. “My oldest brother also has a Japanese name which was selected by my grandfather, though I don’t know who had the name before him.”
Sebastian angled his body so his broad shoulders blocked Saika from the view of the dance floor and reached out to cup her chin with his long fingers. He exerted just enough pressure to move her head so he could peer directly into her eyes.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?”
Saika blinked. It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. She blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“You don’t be
long here.” Sebastian leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on his stomach. “Oh, you look the part. Your hair is lovely and the dress impeccable though a bit out of fashion, and your makeup and manners are flawless.”
“I fail to see the problem.”
“I’ve been observing people my entire life and have become quite accomplished at it. After watching you for some time I have come to the conclusion that this isn’t someplace you belong.” Sebastian Harper’s expression hardened. “So now, I will ask you just one more time, what are you doing here?”
Saika’s mind raced. She’d imagined a million different ways this night might end, but being interrogated before she had an opportunity to complete her mission hadn’t been something she’d considered.
She didn’t know what she should tell him that would convince him to leave her alone.
“You’re absolutely correct,” Saika finally said. “I don’t belong here. My father is a jeweler and not the type of the person who receives invitation to events such as this one. However his occupation does put him into contact with people who do, including the family of a girl whose companion fell ill, I was asked to accompany her in the companion’s place.”
Friendship had nothing to do with her presence here. The lie, though small, chafed. She’d always taken pride in her honesty. Yet another thing that had been stolen from her.
Sebastian braced an elbow on the arm of the chair and propped his chin in his hand. His eyes glinted with intelligence and purpose.
It took all of Saika’s will power to sit still and not squirm.
As uncomfortable as the intensity and intelligence in his eyes made her uncomfortable, if circumstance were different, she would be compelled to find out more about him, to learn if he was as deep as his expression implied. Saika was intrigued. She’d never met a man like Sebastian Harper.
But circumstances weren’t different. She had a job to complete and couldn’t let a man, not even one as attractive as Sebastian, distract her. Too much rode on the outcome.
She pulled her gaze free of Sebastian’s and looked about the ballroom until she spotted the elderly King George engaged in an animated conversation with an even older man.
“You’re lying.”
Saika transferred her gaze from the monarch to Sebastian. “I’m sorry?”
“There’s something about you, something I haven’t quite figured out just yet, that doesn’t ring true. You’re keeping secrets.”
Saika laid a hand over her pocket and pressed on the kaiken she carried. She took a moment to compose her response.
“Are you always suspicious about the guests who attend balls in the Queen’s Lodge?” Frustration clipped her words and made her low tone sound more menacing than she’d planned.
“No, but I’ve learned my instincts are rarely wrong, and at this precise moment they’re telling me there’s more to you than what meets the eye. I have no intention of letting you out of my sight until I know what you’re up to.”
Saika’s heart skipped a beat and panic bubbled up in her throat. Life was already complicated enough without Sebastian adding an additional effort of difficulty. Saika wished she could think of a way to distract him.
“Sebastian,” the unexpected shrill voice behind her caused Saika to jump. In the time they’d been sitting here, she’d almost managed to forget they were in a room full of other people. She could kick herself. To lose track of her surroundings and the people occupying them was dangerous.
Sebastian’s gaze shifted to a place past Saika’s left shoulder.
“Miss Davenport.” He sounded neither pleased nor disappointed by the interruption. He sounded … bored. “How nice to see you.”
A tall girl, perhaps a year or two younger than Saika, wearing a beautiful dress made out of various shades of pink silk that drew attention to the girl’s matching cheeks and enormous blue eyes, darted past Saika and threw herself on Sebastian’s lap. Before the older man had a chance to react, she wrapped her arms around his neck in a far from proper hug.
Saika didn’t waste time worrying about the girl’s manner or reputation. She knew how to take advantage of an opportunity when it presented itself. She gathered her long skirt in one hand and brushed the palm of the other against her hidden knife as she leapt up from the chair disappeared in the mass of brightly dressed guests of the crown.
From Mistletoe to Mayhem
Chapter Two
Sebastian ground his teeth together and leaned against a door frame.
Despite the considerable distance between himself and the ballroom, he still heard the faint sound of music. It pleased him. He’d spent a great deal of time personally selecting the musicians for the event and was thrilled his efforts were being rewarded with superb music. It was such a rare occurrence for things to work out better than hoped for.
His search for Miss Saika Donovan was more typical of the natural procession of life. He and a handful of servants had spent the past two hours searching Queen’s Lodge for her and not had even a small amount of success. She managed to disappear into thin air.
Unease gnawed the pit of his stomach. Each passing moment increased the sense of pending disaster Sebastian had felt since he first noticed the dark haired beauty. Every instinct he possessed urged him to locate the girl and to do so soon, but he had run out of places to investigate.
Sebastian turned to Harold, one of the footmen whose services he’d engaged in the search. “If you were a young woman, unfamiliar with the building, where would you go?”
“Sir, I’m afraid I can’t answer your question, there are too many variables. If you tell me why she’d want to hide, I might be better able to put myself in her position and provide you with an answer, but without that information, I fear I cannot be of much assistance.” Harold rubbed his eyes. The excitement of the hunt had faded shortly after he had started to look, and now the only thing he wanted to find was his bed so he could throw himself across it and lose himself in a few hours of sleep. “Perhaps she’s not here at all. It’s been a long evening. Is it possible she decided she’d had enough gaiety for one night and retired to her own home?”
Sebastian shook his head. “It’s early yet, too early for her to have left.”
By London’s standards, the night was still young. Members of the social elite often stayed out until just before sunrise.
Harold hid a yawn behind his hand. “Some people do get tired, sir.”
Sebastian looked up and down the long hallway. “No. She’s here. I’m certain of it.”
“Yes, sir.” Harold’s his tone suggested he wasn’t convinced. “What do you wish for me to do next?”
Sebastian wished he knew the answer.
“Sir.” A young maid hurried towards them and skidded to a stopped before Sebastian. She stared at the floor and folded her hands in front of her skirt, lacing her fingers together to hide a faint tremor. She took a deep breath as her ears pinkened. She’d only been employed here a short while and this was the first time she dared speak to anyone so important. “Sir, I did as you requested and examined each corner of the set of rooms you assigned me, but I didn’t see anyone, though a chamber maids thought she recalled a woman wearing a blue and silver dress, one very much like the one you described, near the King’s chambers. She remembered because she was surprised anyone would be there, especially a guest.”
Sebastian reached into his pocket and withdrew a single coin and passed it to the girl. “Thank you.”
She dropped into a deep curtsey before she turned and hurried away.
Sebastian chewed on the inside of his cheek and considered the information. It seemed ridiculous, but at the same time made sense. No one had thought to search King George’s personal rooms. After a moment’s though, Sebastian moved past the bleary eyed Harold and started towards the King’s chambers.
********
For what seemed like the hundredth time since she fled the ballroom, Saika cursed her gown.
When her stepmother d
esigned and sewed this dress, her intention was for it to someday be used as Saika’s wedding gown. It was lovely. Mrs. Donavon had done an excellent job with the dark blue and silver material and created a work of art designed to enhance Saika’s slight curves and lovely features, never dreaming that the first time Saika wore it, she’d hide in a wardrobe while trying to remove it.
When Saika hurried into the room she knew she needed a place to hide, it wouldn’t do for her to be seen before she was ready, and after a few seconds of indecision she selected the wardrobe.
It didn’t take her long to discover that if she wanted to stay in there, something needed to be done about her dress. It was driving her mad. Not only did skirt seem to take up every single inch of available space, but the bodice was digging into her skin and robbed her of her ability to breathe.
If she didn’t do something soon, she’d smother.
Loosening her bodice seemed the most reasonable solution.
She jerked at a stubborn knot and her grip on the smooth material slipped. The sudden release of pressure caused her elbow to slam into the back of the wardrobe. Stars danced before her eyes. Saika’s teeth ground together and she wrinkled her nose against the pain radiating the length of her arm.
A slight sound, like the whisper of a boot sole against carpet, caught her attention and she stilled. She strained to identify the sound whilst blood raced through her ears.
It seemed half her life slipped away while she stood in the wardrobe. Her mind was split in two: half remained focused on trying to determine the exact nature of the sound she heard, while the other portion worked through possible scenarios about how to react if someone discovered her hiding place.
Several long, tense moments passed during which nothing happened. She decided the noise was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.
Saika released a breath and reached for the knot, her movement slow and fluid.
The wardrobe door flew open.