Amber Sky (C.O.I.L.S Of Copper and Brass Book 1)

by Claire Warner

  She hesitated, waiting to protest once again. The idea was the highest level of recklessness. Faced with this plan or deliberately spying on her boss, she would prefer to spy, at least then she could get away from the lion’s den. In the City, miles away from her home and in unfamiliar territory, she could not hide or run. She glanced into Darius’ face and swallowed at the implacable look that had settled over his features. No amount of pleading or reason would make him change his mind.

  “I’ll be with you”－he spoke quietly, and she was certain she heard reassurance in his voice－“every step of the way.”

  “It’ll just be until I can get this dealt with,” Lyana uttered, adding her own brand of pressure.

  “What about my family?” she asked.

  “Your sister will be given temporary access to draw ration,” Darius replied his voice back to its usual business-like tones. “After all, you will be in the city as additional staff.”

  Tay stepped back, and sank down on the bed, holding her head in her hands.

  “I can promise that I will do everything I can to ensure that you are not exposed.”

  Silence echoed through the plush bedroom as both siblings waited for an answer. In Tay’s head, visions of being discovered played on a never-ending loop with each outcome even more terrible than the last. But if she did this, then her deal with Darius would be finished. After what seemed like an age, she raised her head.

  “Okay.” Her voice shook slightly as she gave her answer. “Now what?”

  “Now you get washed, manicured and dressed appropriately,” Lyana replied, stepping forward to sit down next to her on the bed. “And thank you.”

  Tay glanced across at the other girl. “I didn’t really have a choice,” she retorted as she stood up and moved back toward the door. “Where’s the bathroom? I suppose I’d better get started.”

  Darius stepped out of the way and pointed across the hall at the door opposite. Refusing to look at his face she strode past him into an expensive, tiled bathroom. A tank stood above the large, claw-footed tub, promising hot water, and several bottles of bath oil and fragrance sat on the shelf near the door. The room was larger than her lounge, and she began to undress with nervous, shaking fingers. As her clothes fell to the floor, the door opened. Lyana walked in, a thick robe hanging over her arm.

  “Here,” Lyana said, placing the gown over the back of the radiator. Reaching past Tay’s partially unclothed form, she turned on the bath taps and added a stream of oil from one of the bottles. The scent of rose drifted into the air as the water began to froth. “I know this is going to be hard”－she picked up Tay’s uniform and placed it on a chair－“but I am grateful.” She turned on the cold tap and drew her fingers through the steaming water.

  “But I don’t know what to do,” Tay whispered as she looked down at the rapidly filling tub. “Or how to behave.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if there were any other way.” Lyana sat on the edge of the bath and smiled at her. “Darius will help you.”

  Tay snorted with derision, wondering how she could trust the man who had put her in this position.

  “He will help,” Lyana assured, as she tested the water. “He wouldn’t want you to be harmed.”

  “How can I believe that?” Tay replied as she watched Lyana turn off the taps.

  “Because he’s a good man.” She stood up and headed for the door. “Have a long soak,” she advised, “and then rejoin me in the bedroom.” She depressed the door handle, and began to leave. “We’ll make sure everything’s fine.” Opening the door, she walked out into the hall, leaving Tay’s stunned and mildly frustrated form in the centre of the expansive bathroom.

  As the door closed, Tay sat down on the edge of the bath. Alone in that steamy, luxurious bathroom, she gave full rein to her fears and doubts. There were so many things that could go wrong. No matter how many assurances Darius and his sister provided, it was still a huge risk. It would only take a chance meeting with someone who knew Lyana, and the entire deception would come crashing down. She knew that she would bear the brunt of any punishment, and shuddered at the thought. There was no known statute for impersonating one of the nobility, but she was certain that the penalty would be thorough, exacting, and aimed at dissuading others. She leant back and trailed her hand through the deliciously warm water. If she were sensible, she would refuse, but she couldn’t run the risk that her father would be returned to the Mine. There was also her appointment with the Frazers’ to consider. Would Darius maintain her cover if she refused? Closing her eyes, she allowed her head to fall back, accepting her decision with reluctance, and a gnawing sense of dread. The rest of her clothing fell to the floor, as with decision came action. If she had to go through with this charade, she might as well enjoy the perks. The warm water cocooned her and she drifted into a soft haze of rose scent and bubbles. Ducking her head beneath the water, she obscured the tears that had begun to slide silently down her face. Despite her resolve, she could not stop the fear that she had signed her own death warrant. Not for the first time, she wished she had never heard of Darius.

  Fifteen minutes later and feeling a lot warmer, she stood up from the bath, dried herself off, and wrapped herself in the warm robe. Hesitantly, she opened the door to the hallway and peered outside. Relieved to see that Darius was nowhere in sight, she crossed the landing and entered Lyana’s room.

  “Feel better?” Lyana asked, watching as she crossed the threshold.

  “Yes… thank you.” Tay winced at the timidity in her voice, but it could not be helped. She felt intimidated, not only by her surroundings but by the thought of what was to come.

  “Don’t be so worried.” Lyana stepped around the bed and closed the door, before placing a concerned arm about Tay’s shoulders. “By the time I’m through, even my father will be convinced you’re me.”

  Sceptical, Tay allowed the other girl to lead her to the dressing table. Sitting before the gilt-framed mirror, she stared at her reflection. Beneath a ragged mop of wet hair, a pair of hazel eyes glared back at her. Reaching into a drawer, Lyana pulled out a comb and began to gently tease it through the damp, unruly mess. As Lyana worked, Tay used the time to examine the girl she would be impersonating. Despite having the same hair and eye colour, their features weren’t particularly similar.

  “Now…” Lyana continued to speak as she drew the comb through her dark locks. “You’re going to the City for the annual betrothal ball.” Tay winced as the comb tugged at a particularly tough knot. “It’s a masked event.” The knot continued to resist Lyana’s ministrations and Tay hissed with pain. “So no one will see your features.” Tay closed her eyes in relief as she processed the other girl’s words. “All you will need to do is register.” The knot finally gave way, and the other girl continued to draw the large-toothed comb through Tay’s hair.

  “What will I need to do to register?” Tay asked.

  “Sign my name.” The comb was sliding easily through the wet locks now, and Lyana stopped brushing. Reaching forward, she drew a slim, dark green bottle from the desk, and poured a generous amount of oil into her hand. Lyana worked the substance through Tay’s hair before picking up the comb again.

  “Well, I presume you mean your name,” Tay noted, as the scent of almond and honey drifted into the air.

  “Of course.” Lyana’s movements were sure and smooth. “It won’t be as bad as you think.” She finished combing and wrapped a large towel around Tay’s head. “Go sit near the fire, and I’ll sort out your clothes.”

  Tay shuffled across the room and sat down before the gently crackling fire. The heat radiated across her skin, keeping her warm. Behind her, she could hear the sound of cupboards opening, and the subsequent rustle of fabric.

  “So what will you be doing while I’m at this thing?” Tay turned her head as several objects landed on the bed. Her eyes widened as a small stack of clothes began to pile up on the white coverlet.

  “Getting this sorted out,” Lyana
replied with a heavy sigh. “I can’t keep the baby, my father would kill it on sight, and possibly me too.”

  Tay stared at the other girl, stunned by the matter-of-fact manner in which she spoke.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Lyana sighed and sank down onto the bed. “Without hesitation.”

  “But you’re his daughter,” Tay whimpered, horrified by the picture that Lyana was painting with her words. “How could he?”

  “I’m not his daughter.” The words were too calm, almost flat, as her fingers played with the hem of the dress in her hands. “I’m only an asset.” In the stillness that followed, Tay could hear the crackle of the fire behind her, as Lyana stared blankly ahead.

  “You see, Darius is the heir and a boy.” The words were whispered, and Tay could hear the fragile calm that surrounded her begin to chip and break. “His path is easy.” Clenching her hand into a fist, she continued. “Mine is laid out through marriage.” She finally turned her head to stare at Taya. “I’m to link our family to another and increase our influence. If I jeopardise that”－Taya swallowed at the sight of crystalline tears in her eyes－“he will kill me.” With those final words, her façade cracked, and her head fell forward. She stared at her knees, shoulders shuddering as the tears made their way to the surface.

  Startled by the sudden outpouring of raw emotion, Tay got up from the chair and crossed to the bed. Gingerly, she reached out a hand and hesitantly stroked Lyana’s shoulder. Lyana continued to cry as Tay sank down onto the soft mattress and slid her arm around Lyana’s shoulders. There was a moment’s awkward silence as Tay gently patted the other girl’s upper arm, feeling strangely uncomfortable.

  “Tay.” A choked sob fell from Lyana’s lips before she fell against Tay’s body, crying for all she was worth.

  “It’s okay,” Tay soothed awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. True, she had calmed her siblings before, but this felt strange. She should feel angry at the girl for making her risk everything she held dear, but she only felt pity. She had not thought of what it could be like for those born into privilege, beyond thoughts of envy.

  “What about the father?” she asked gently. “Could he not…”

  “No,” Lyana interrupted and pushed herself upright. “He’s useless.” Anger rippled through her words, and Tay could hear the pain behind them. She remained quiet, wondering if she should ask for details.

  “You’d better get dry.” Lyana stood, locking her emotions back away behind a mask of calmness and competence. “I’ll sort you out an outfit.”

  “Okay.” Tay stood up from the bed, and returned to the warmth of the fire, wondering just how she could pull this off. Settling back down into the chair, she toasted quietly as Lyana worked behind her, moving items from the wardrobe to the bed. Her hair was nearly dry beneath the towel when she was finally called back to the room. Turning back to the bed, Tay’s face dropped at the array of clothes laid out on the bed. Splayed over the coverlet was more clothes than she had seen in her life. Thick wools, furs and silks in different colours and shades beckoned to her with their lustre. She reached out a finger, and gently stroked across one of the fox furs, its soft warmth sliding across her skin like a whisper.

  “So, what do you want to wear?” Lyana’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she looked up at the other girl, bewildered by the choice before her. “No problem.” Lyana reached into the pile and drew forth an outfit. She laid it across the back of the chair and beckoned her toward the small dressing room.

  Tay followed her, wondering why she had left the outfit. Lyana led Tay to a chair in the centre of the dressing room, and she sat down. As she opened her mouth to ask why she was there, the other girl removed the towel from her nearly dry hair and began to brush through it.

  “We need to sort your hair,” Lyana said, pre-empting her questions as she drew the brush through the newly clean locks. She finished brushing after a minute and opened a nearby drawer. Returning to Tay, she pinned some of the hair to one side and continued to comb. There was a snip, and several strands of dark hair fell to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Tay whirled round, narrowly avoiding a cut from the pair of scissors that Lyana held in her hands.

  “Cutting your hair,” Lyana replied mildly. “Don’t you remember?”

  “But I didn’t…” She faltered at the sight of the long strands of hair that laid on the floor. “How much will you be cutting off?”

  “About two inches.”

  “I see.”

  “Think of it this way,” Lyana said with a smile, “your hair needs a cut, and you need to look more like me.” She unfurled a strand of her own hair from the braid that wrapped her head, and showed it. “See.” Tay looked at the hair, its dark strands only a few inches shorter than hers. “It won’t be that bad, and it will regrow.” She pointed to the front, and Tay turned back, her fingers tensing with each snip of the scissors.

  “There.” In no time at all, Lyana stepped away, and gave her a mirror. Tay reached out and took hold of the gilt-framed item. With trepidation, she stared down at herself, before drawing in a long, surprised breath. Her once ragged, bluntly cut hair had been trimmed to just below her shoulders. Two feathered strands of hair framed her face and gave her a light, more sophisticated look.

  “It’s incredible,” she said, handing the mirror back to the other woman. “I wouldn’t have thought you would know how to do this type of thing.”

  “Why?” Lyana placed the mirror back in a drawer and began to clean up the pile of hair that had pooled on the floor. “Because I’m a noble?”

  “Yes,” Tay answered, slightly embarrassed at herself for making the observation.

  “My mother thought it necessary for me to learn a skill.” She began to place the excess hair into a bag. “My father disagreed but”－she gave a tiny smile－“mother managed to convince him that hairdressing was a usual skill for the nobility.” She affected a high-pitched, snobbish tone. “After all, finding a decent hairdresser is so taxing.” She got up from the floor and beckoned Tay to follow her. “My father is a skinflint at heart, and the appeal to his wallet caught his attention.” She lead Tay back into the bedroom and pushed her back into the chair.

  “Now what?” Tay asked, trepidation flooding through her, as Lyana reached for a small bag on the dressing table.

  “Now we sort out your makeup.” She opened the small pouch and began to apply creams and lotions to Tay’s skin. By the time Lyana was done, Tay’s body felt stiff and uncomfortable from being sat in the chair for so long. As Lyana indicated that she had finished, Tay stood up, only to be handed a pile of clothes.

  Taking the small stack from the other woman, Tay began to dress, pulling on the unfamiliar garments with difficulty.

  “So how come you have so many clothes if your father is a skinflint?” Tay asked as she pulled on a cotton blouse.

  “He’s only frugal in private,” Lyana explained as she helped Tay into the next layer of clothing. “We have minimal servants and hire extra if there is to be an event. To the other nobles, we’re as extravagant as they, but we don’t have personal staff; only a few maids, a housekeeper and a butler.” Lyana handed her the last piece of clothing, and then stood back. “There,” she announced, satisfaction running through her voice. “I think we’re done.” She walked over to the door and pushed it open. Stepping out into the hallway, she ushered Tay before her until they reached another door. Without waiting to knock, Lyana pushed open the door and entered the room.

  Darius’ bed chamber was large and plainly decorated. Cream walls and dark wooden furniture gave the room an austere look. Darius was laying on a large, four poster bed as his sister strode into the chamber, dragging Tay behind her like some parcel.

  “What do you think?”

  Darius propped himself up and looked across at them, his eyes slowly travelling across Tay’s form with appreciation.

  “Not bad,” he said finally, the admiration in his gaze sending a f
lush to Tay’s cheeks.

  “She doesn’t quite look like me,” Lyana noted critically.

  “Put a mask on her, and she’ll be fine,” Darius replied, standing up from the bed, and walking across the floor. He stopped just shy of them. “Turn around.” Tay slowly moved to obey, too used to obeying instructions to question. “From the back, she could be you,” he said to his sister, almost ignoring the girl beside her. “It’ll work.”

  Tay turned back to the front and shuffled uncomfortably as Darius walked back to the other side of the room.

  “So now what?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she thought of the deception they were asking her to perform.

  “Now we spend the next week teaching you how to become my sister,” Darius replied as he leant nonchalantly against the wall.

  “I see…” Tay took several deep breaths and tried to calm down. This was as bad as Lars asking her to spy, and far more likely to end in exposure. As she looked across at Darius, a question bubbled to the surface, one that she feared to ask, for she did not know what she would do with the answer.

  “What is it?” His eyes were fixed on her face, and she swallowed nervously.

  “Did you know that this would be the price of your help?” she asked with some hesitation.

  “Yes,” he answered, sending waves of fury through her.

  “Then why didn’t you say at the time?” she demanded, anger finally suppressing the nerves.

  “Would you have backed away from the deal?” His question was mildly curious, and she stopped, thinking back to that conversation.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted finally, bowing her head slightly as she considered his question. Would she have backed down? Considering that the other option was starvation, she would have to say no. Though she would have liked to know what she was getting into. Her thoughts drifted back to Lars and Cody, knowing that they would insist that she take this opportunity to spy.

  “Then there’s no problem,” Darius said as he returned to the bed and sat down. “Good job with her by the way,” he called across to Lyana. “She looks similar enough to not garner a second glance.”