by H. L. Burke
“Show me?” His hand circled her wrist. He placed the watch back in his pocket. “Whenever you’re ready, but this time, I’ve got my eye on you.” He winked.
For a moment Nyssa stared into his eyes.It’s all good fun. Just a game between friends.
Her fingers strayed to his cheek. Leaning closer, she whispered in his ear, “This would be easier if you didn’t know what I was trying to do.”
“Consider it an extra challenge,” he whispered in turn.
His warm breath tickled her face. Heat raged beneath her skin. She placed one hand on his chest while her other fingers worked into his hair. Their eyes locked. Something within her trembled like a spring wound too tight. She slipped her hand towards his pocket, but as she did, he moved forward. His lips pressed against hers.
Nyssa’s breath escaped her. Though her sense of propriety urged her to pull away, the warmth of him drew her in. Her fingers tightened into the cloth of his shirt. They parted for a heartbeat, but her lips returned to his a moment later. They kissed again, deeper. His arms surrounded her. She closed her eyes, and her world melted into a sigh.
“I still have my watch.” He chuckled.
She forced her eyes open. “Sorry, I got distracted.”
“Oh, I know you did.” He held up her lockpick set, which had been in her back pocket. “I’m a quick study.”
She snatched the leather case. “How …” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve done this before?”
Have I really gotten so out of practice that a rich boy can hustle me? Sparks and shocks, he’s lucky he’s pretty.
“No, I swear.” He raised his hands. “Honestly, if you hadn’t been otherwise occupied, I doubt I could’ve pulled that off.”
She clicked her tongue, stood, and pocketed the set. “I’m watching you, mister. Those big, innocent brown eyes will only get you so far.”
His shoulders shook with silent laughter. Nyssa smiled in spite of herself.Shock me, it’s impossible to stay mad at him.
Nyssa turned away from him and exhaled a long breath. Her lips still felt warm from his touch. That had felt good. Too good, considering the close quarters they were going to be in for the next few days.
What would Mr. C say if he could see me now? Sharing a room with a handsome young man without so much as a proper engagement?
She glanced back at him. He reclined on the bed, fiddling with his watch. Mr. C, Nyssa’s late mentor, would’ve liked Ellis, with his technical aptitude and optimistic approach to life. They could’ve sat and discussed electronics and machinery for hours.
She shook her head. There has to be something more productive to focus on here.
On the wall by the desk was a small red curtain. She drew it back, revealing a videophone screen.
“Oh, the brochure said there was one in every room,” Ellis said. “I’d wondered where they’d hidden it.”
“It’s a newer model. Too bad we don’t have anyone to call.” She traced the metal frame.
There were three dials, one to adjust the picture, one for volume, and a third to key into the proper frequency for the party you intended to call. Beneath, a lacquered sign gave the frequencies for the stewards and emergencies.
“I bet this thing is tied into the overall circuitry for the airship,” Nyssa said. “You know, if we tapped into it, we could mess with all sorts of systems. They really shouldn’t give the passengers access to the wiring.”
“Most passengers aren’t prone to taking apart videophones.”
“I’m just bored, is all.” She fingered the frequency knobs. “The possibilities are intriguing though.”
“Well, try to resist taking the airship apart, and when Amara and Renard get back, we can go for a stroll on the observation deck. It’s supposed to be an experience like no other, gazing down over five hundred feet at the ocean below.”
Nyssa shuddered. “I think it would make me dizzy.”
“Oh, I forgot, you’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?” He sat up straighter. “We don’t have to go on the observation deck. It was just a thought.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s an irrational fear, and the observation deck is a safe way to confront it. No chance of actually falling. It’s good to push myself out of the comfortable on occasion.”
“I didn’t realize you ever let yourself be daunted, honestly.” He smiled.
She laughed. “Oh, I have more inhibitions than you realize.” She tapped her foot against Amara’s luggage. “It’s funny that she’s got a lock on her hat box. Who steals hats?”
Ellis shrugged. “A woman like Amara probably values her wardrobe the way you cling to your lockpicks.”
“I do like my lockpicks, but as we just proved, I don’t guard them all that closely. No one else wants them, any more than anyone wants Amara’s silly hats.” Nyssa knelt and picked up the hatbox. Something rattled within. “Doesn’t sound like a hat. I bet I could get this open.” She took out one of her smaller picks.
“Nyss, that’s not yours.” Ellis frowned.
“I’m just curious. Like you said, it’s probably clothes. What does she have to hide?”
“If she wanted you poking through it, she wouldn’t have locked it. Put it …”
The door knob squeaked. Nyssa dropped the hat box and rushed to Ellis’s side. Her heart throbbed in her throat as Amara and Renard entered the room.
Renard vaulted from Ellis’s chair the instant the door shut behind him.
“Did you speak to anyone?” Ellis asked.
“No, we stayed on the observation deck. No one was there.” Amara patted her mouth. “It was actually quite dull.”
“Well, Nyss and I are eager for some fresh air. We’ll take our turn now.”
Renard pushed the chair towards Ellis. When it stopped a foot away, he didn’t move to nudge it further.
Displeasure rippled across Ellis’s face. Nyssa scowled at Renard, rose, and positioned the chair where Ellis could access it.
Amara blushed. She shot Renard a stern look then cleared her throat. “What about Nyssa’s clothing? She really should wear what I was wearing if she’s pretending to be me. Here.” Amara walked to the other side of the room and pulled out a privacy screen. She took out a dress. “Just a moment.”
After some rustling behind the screen, Amara emerged wearing a sky-blue frock.
“Go ahead. I can help you with the buttons if you need me to.”
“Thank you.” Nyssa grudgingly had to admit Amara was being gracious, although after Renard’s treatment of Ellis, she wanted nothing more than to kick both of them out on their tailbones. She slipped behind the screen and unlaced her corset.
Amara’s red silk gown felt strange against her skin, smooth and cool, like water rather than cloth.
Sparks and shocks, I could get used to this.
“When you’re done in there, I’d like a go at your hair,” Amara called as Nyssa fussed with the buttons. “I think I can make you look half presentable.”
And goodwill squandered. Nyssa gritted her teeth. She stepped back out. “Well, here I am. All prettied up with nowhere to go.”
“My.” Amara clicked her tongue. “That is an improvement.”
Ellis gaped at her. Nyssa blushed. She turned to the full-length mirror hanging on the wall, and the warmth in her cheeks flared to a bonfire. The dress’s tight bodice stopped inches below her clavicles, not quite revealing her bosom, but close enough to make her uncomfortable about it.
“Oh, I look ridiculous,” she said.
“No!” Ellis said, a bit too emphatically.
“You look much better.” Amara stepped up, wielding a hairbrush. “Sit down and hold still.”
The brush wrenched through Nyssa’s hair. After a few minutes of painful tugging, Amara mumbled something and fetched a bottle of some perfumed liquid which she slathered all over Nyssa’s locks.
Nyssa’s jaw clenched as hair pins poked into her scalp. “This seems like a lot of trouble. Maybe I should stay in.”
“Hold up. Two more pins.” Amara jabbed one in so hard Nyssa was convinced it had drawn blood. She bolted up as Amara announced, “There, I’m done!” and stepped back.
Thank God. I could fix a videophone with less rigmarole.
Nyssa stood. Her hair felt off balance, as if it could topple off her head at any moment. She hazarded a glance in the mirror. Strands of hair twisted before her ears while a tight bun held the rest in place on top.
Amara pulled out a tube of lipstick, red as blood. “This is my favorite shade. That and this,” she held up a scarlet pillbox hat with red silk roses and a black, lacy veil, “should mask your features enough that we might pass as the same woman … from a distance, anyway.”
The lipstick glided onto Nyssa’s lips, making them heavy and slick. She resisted the urge to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand when she handed the tube back to Amara.
Ellis slid into his chair and took Renard’s bowler hat. “There, now we’re both in disguise. Shall we?” He offered Nyssa his hand.
She smiled. As awkward as this situation was, it would be good to go on a walk with Ellis. “My pleasure,” she said.
Chapter Six
Dots danced before Nyssa’s eyes as they entered the observation deck from the dimly lit corridor. Sun flooded the open space through large plate-glass windows.
Ellis whistled. “Posh, isn’t it?”
She blinked a few times. Polished cherry-wood floors gleamed. A wrought-iron railing fenced off the long, rectangular window in the deck’s floor. Only a thin barrier of glass stood between Nyssa and a five-hundred-foot drop to the sea below.
Her fingers tightened on Ellis’s hand.
He gazed up at her. “We don’t have to be here if you don’t want. Perhaps we could try the library or the lounge?”
“No, it’s fine.” She drew a steadying breath. “It isn’t as if I’m going to topple over the railing and fall out of the airship. I’m not that clumsy.”
“Even if you did, the glass would most likely hold you. That’s at least three inches, reinforced, too. You can tell if you look closely.”
Yeah, I’ll just cling to the glass like a fly on a window. Great idea, Ellis.
“No, I think I’m fine looking from here.”
Ellis laughed and led her to a bench, one of many lining the room. She supposed the benches were so people could look out the windows or down through the glass-bottom.Crazy people.Nyssa chose to face the back wall.
“So much for pushing yourself out of the comfortable,” Ellis teased.
“Give me a few minutes.” Her stomach grumbled. “Maybe the dining car would be a good choice.”
“I’m hungry too. However, I think the majority of passengers will be eating right now. We don’t want to parade ourselves before that many eyes.” He looked around. “There was a vending machine in the hall. Nothing fresh, but I should be able to get a box of crackers out of it. When we get back to the room, I can summon the steward and tell him we’ll be eating in.”
“A nice roast beef sandwich would do me wonders right now.” Nyssa’s mouth watered. “With a bit of mustard.”
“I’ll go see about those crackers.” He squeezed her shoulder before rolling away.
Nyssa closed her eyes and took several breaths. It’s not like I’m going to go flying off the deck. Come on, Nyssa, don’t be a chicken. Take a peek.
She walked over and placed both her hands on the railing. The sun glittered on the water beneath her, the sea bluer than an evening sky. A ship chugged through the waves. Steam puffed from its smokestacks, leaving a trail along with its fading wake.
“Next time maybe we should go by water rather than air,” she whispered to herself.
Footsteps echoed against the wood floors. An older man with a white beard strode onto the deck and stopped several feet away.
Nyssa ignored him, hoping he’d take little note of her. From her periphery and under the protection of her veil, she sized him up. He wore a chocolate brocade vest with golden embroidery and a gold chain that suggested an expensive watch on the other end. An impeccable brown-felt derby perched atop his snowy locks, shadowing a metallic device fitted into his ear, perhaps a hearing-aid of some sort. He grasped a bronze-tipped cane in one hand.
His eyes flitted to hers, and his mouth curled into a triumphant smirk. Cane extended, he strode towards her.
With nowhere to run, Nyssa faced him. She drew back her shoulders. A few steps from her, the man faltered. His confident smile faded, and confusion clouded his eyes.
“I’m … sorry. For a moment I mistook you for someone else.” He had an educated inflection.
“I’m certain we’ve never met,” Nyssa said, instinctively matching his tone. One thing she’d learned on the streets, if you could fool people into thinking they had something in common with you, they were much less likely to be trouble.
“Yes, well, your manner of dress reminds me of a young woman who I am quite familiar with.” He tilted his head. “If I may say, that is a charming frock. Who is your tailor?”
“G … G … George,” Nyssa stuttered out the first name that sprang to mind.
“George?” The man’s eyebrows melted together like two angry pussywillows. “First or last name?”
“Both,” she said, hardening her expression. “Why do you ask?” She arched an eyebrow. “Did you want him to make you one?”
The man flushed. He brandished the cane like a wagging finger in Nyssa’s face. She stiffened.
Oh, just try and hit me, old man. I’m not the delicate flower this dress makes me out to be.
“Look, missy, play all the games you want, but I know that dress. I paid for that dress. Now you tell Amara—”
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Ellis had returned, a box of crackers in one hand, a scowl on his face.
The man glanced from Nyssa to Ellis and back again. “No, nothing of importance. I was just complimenting the young lady on her exquisite taste.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it was civil. From the young lady’s expression, I was concerned I might need to call ship security.”
The man’s posture straightened. “No need for that. I assure you.”
Ellis nodded to her. “Would you like an escort to your room?”
“I would.”
Nyssa clutched the back of Ellis’s chair as he wheeled away. She could feel the man’s eyes burrowing into the nape of her neck.
Chapter Seven
Nyssa pushed open the door to their room.
Renard jumped from the bed, where he and Amara had been, entwined like a pair of amorous octopi.
Amara blushed, though Renard’s face moved quickly from surprise to his characteristic glare. “You couldn’t knock?”
“We need to talk.” Nyssa moved aside so Ellis could enter then shut the door behind him.
Amara sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing several stray locks into place. “Whatever it is can surely wait—”
“We met your uncle, I believe,” Ellis said.
The blood drained from Amara’s cheeks. Renard sat beside her and draped his arm around her shoulder.
“No, that can’t be right.” Amara shook her head. “He had no idea we were leaving through Freeport.”
“Older man, well-dressed, white beard, enhanced hearing aid?” Nyssa asked.
Amara flinched. “I’m sure any number of men match that description.”
“Maybe, but the fact that he mentioned you by name and claimed he paid for this dress suggests he at least knows you.” Nyssa narrowed her eyes.Let’s see her deny it now.
Amara’s fingers clutched at Renard’s shirt. “How did he find us so quickly?”
“He knows people, my love,” Renard said. “Government, businesses, he has friends and cronies everywhere. All it would take is for one of them to get wind of us being in Freeport for him to guess that we’d be taking a zeppelin to San Azula. He knows my family’s there.”
“T
rue, he might not even have realized we’d be on this zeppelin, just guessed our final destination.”
“Our main concern is that he’ll go to the captain if he figures out we’re sharing a room,” Ellis said. “However, there really isn’t much else he can do, is there? He doesn’t have the authority to drag you home. He can’t separate you from your husband.”
Amara dropped her eyes. “Renard and I may not be officially married … yet.”
Nyssa raised her eyebrows. “May not be?”
“We couldn’t get a license in Freeport. My uncle knows too many people in the court system, and I’m still a minor. We need to get to San Azula. Renard’s parents live there and will sign off on the ceremony for us.”
“Well, at least that solves the bedding problem,” Nyssa said. “Amara, you’re with me. Renard, you’re with Ellis.”
Both Ellis and Renard grimaced.
“What does he want with you, though? Is he really so set against your marriage?” Nyssa asked. If I were Amara’s uncle I’d be begging Renard to take her off my hands.
“He’s mean, is all,” Amara said.
“Mean?” Ellis frowned. “You know you could’ve avoided this by waiting until you were of age. He wouldn’t be able to stop you at that point.”
The young couple sat in silence.
Nyssa’s instincts screamed, Shock me, but that man didn’t seem like some benevolent family member trying to reclaim a wayward teen. I need to find out what else is going on before it blows up in our faces.
Ellis cleared his throat, breaking the tense quiet. “I’ll order some food. Nyssa mentioned roast beef sandwiches. Everyone all right with that?”
“Red meat isn’t good for my complexion.” Amara stuck her nose in the air as if she could smell the beef already.
“I’ll have some chicken and cucumber sandwiches sent up too then.” Ellis rolled up to the videophone and switched it to the radio setting, audio only, no video.
Nyssa fell silent as he placed the order. Her appetite had perished, her stomach tightening into a cold, hard knot.
When the steward finally knocked on the door and the smell of meat, cheese, and fresh bread rose from the cloches on the tray, however, her stomach grumbled in response. She sat on the bed, trying not to look towards the privacy screen, behind which Amara and Renard cowered out of the steward’s sight. The moment the steward left, she sprang upon the food.