by A. W. Cross
"Miss Anderson. Lily. My family has made their wealth by recognizing greatness when they see it. Your father is quite the inventor. He's had a few duds, but this hovercraft is one of its kind." He looked to the sky. "It was his concept which allowed airships such as the Floating Terrace to come to fruition. The propeller design was in a league of its own, and if you ask me, it still is. It is streamlined, sleek, and hardly audible. Making it highly desirable for those who are lucky enough to use the patent."
The dreaded patent.
My father had invented the design, patented it, and used it on the hovercraft. Once his patent was approved, he only authorized a handful of individuals its use. For free. He was at the forefront of the projects, always hands-on with his inventions, afraid someone would steal them as had happened in the past. Not at all uncommon in the trade.
The memory immediately disappeared.
"Yes, well, not much has changed in that department. In fact, he has quite the invention here at the exposition. There's already been an offer. Still, I'm not too sure he's ready to accept it. My father is very much attached to his toys." I laughed loudly.
"Andrew Anderson here, in Albercadia? At the greatest expo? Now, I have got to see." He paused. "Miss Lily, do you mind if I accompany you?"
"Not at all."
We walked side by side, talking about the many wonderful things Albercadia had to offer. I had to admit; I was impressed. Perhaps the big city in the new world wasn't such a bad idea after all. Especially with its many grand libraries. I'd have books to read for days. Weeks. Months. Years.
Maybe, if I were so inclined and my father agreed, I could consider going to university, in pursuit of a career of my own. Surely, he wouldn't be opposed, all things considered.
3
Dominic and I carefully navigated through the crowds, stopping at eye-catching exhibits, or when someone felt the need to approach him. His captivating smile, manners, and charisma were enough to sweep any man or woman off their feet. His looks were like a sweet bonus.
Men and women equally gazed me over, perhaps wondering who I was to be walking along side this coveted gentleman?
He seemed to relish in the attention. The allure fast passed over me.
Sure, he was handsome. And while any other might be excited to have him on her arm, I wanted distance. There was something too egotistical in soaking up the fawning the way he did.
“Is everything all right, Miss Lily?”
Oh gosh! The dulcet tones of his words prickled my skin, and not in a good way. I inspected closely as he stared. His creepy gaze made me nervous.
“Yes. Simply taking everything in. In fact, I need to run to the ladies’ room. Go on without me to my father’s booth. I’ll be there shortly.”
My feet glided across the marble floors without hesitation, understanding the urgency in putting distance between Dominic and me. I went opposite of the restrooms, rounding a corner to a smaller hallway, briefly glancing over my shoulder.
I crashed into something, or more like someone.
“I’m sorry!” I chuckled, wondering what the person might be thinking. Until I realized who it was. “General! Thank goodness it is you.”
“Miss Lily. Good morning.” He said peeking over me. “Are you running from someone?”
I shook my head absentmindedly as I nervously ironed out my skirt with my hands.
My eyebrows furrowed, “Am I that obvious?”
His large hand came up and he gestured with two fingers, just a little.
“Dominic de Pierre was escorting me to my father’s booth. Except, I really want to be alone.”
“Oh. Mr. de Pierre is here?” General Brody Jensen looked off put.
“He is. But you sound as if that isn’t a good thing?”
“Well, the de Pierre’s rarely if ever attend these things. Typically sending a representative to do their bidding.”
I didn’t have to wonder what he was implying, still, I felt a tease building up.
“What exactly do you mean, General?” I paused, considering how exactly I could phrase my words to make the most fun of them, especially watching how stiff General Jensen seemed. “I mean, the de Pierre’s are wealthy. In fact, they are the wealthiest of families that I know of. Are you saying they are incapable of doing their own bidding?”
Crap! That was not how I wanted that to come out. Now it just seemed as if I was protecting that egotistical maniac of Dominic.
He remained stoic. “When you put it that way, Miss, it surely sounds like that is what I’m implying. I actually meant they have plenty of resources and people to watch for these types of matters.”
The general didn’t seem too off put. Good, I thought.
“Of course! Makes total sense. Anyway, I was off to the lady’s room. I’ll see you soon.”
“Good day Miss Lily.” He said with a chivalrous bow.
I returned the kind gesture and continued down the hall, hoping Dominic de Pierre wouldn’t stay at my father’s booth for too long.
“I’m having a difficult time understanding, Lily, why exactly you are getting bad vibes from Sir Dominic?”
My father had questioned me all afternoon. In fact, he seemed rather offended that I wasn’t enthralled by his rich friend.
“I don’t know what else to tell you, dad. I didn’t like him. I’m not going to like all the people you find interesting and vice versa. And I don’t even need to have a reason.”
His whiting head of soft loose curls moved with him as he shook, unwilling to counter my argument. “Very well then. Will you at least consider joining us for dinner? There will be others in attendance, including Samuel LaBaron, who is keen on securing the partnership to the Horologium. In fact, I’ve called to have one of the best modistes hold a private appointment with you in a half hour. Madame Batiste. She’s an old friend and will be excited to see you.”
“Modiste? Father. Please. We can’t really afford these types of luxuries. Besides, what’s so terrible about my wardrobe? It depicts exactly who we are and I’m quite proud of who we are.”
“Lily, it has nothing to do with shunning our lives. We’ve had this discussion already. Our lives here in Albercadia will be much different from across the big blue pond, where we lived quiet and peacefully in a small country village. There will be many lavish affairs, especially if I’ll be working closer with some of these more distinguished members of society.”
“I’ll visit this Madame Batiste. Only because I know how important this all is to you.”
My hand instinctively took to his, placating any nervous buildup I’d caused.
“A rose or yellow suit you, if you are willing to take any advice from me. The colors make your deep brown eyes stand out.”
My chest rose sucking in stale air. What he truly meant was that I reminded him of my mother. I never met her, she died when I was a babe. And while I knew my father sometimes was sad not having his partner, the love of his life with him, I didn’t feel the same. My father was an amazing parent. He made sure I was loved and cared for. Knowing what life was like with another person in it, wasn’t something I knew, and didn’t miss.
“Shall I help you pack up here?”
“No, go on to your appointment. I’ll meet you back at the Floating Terrace. We’ll get ready and head off to our dinner arrangement from there. I believe Mr. LaBaron is sending someone to fetch us.”
“Fetch?” A rather incredulous laugh escaped me. “What are we, pets?”
He didn’t look all too pleased. “No, my dear Lily. We are not. It is simply a term I use.”
“Sorry.” I quickly changed the topic. “I’ll take the Horologium with me, father. I don’t want it getting lost and that is the entire reason we are here and even invited to these fancy soirees.”
“If you insist. Please, just handle with care.”
I nodded. “I’ll be on my way then.” I said packing up the clock. “Anything I need to know about this woman I’m about to meet?”
He furrowed his brows. “No. She’s just an old friend who’ll be excited to meet you.”
“You already said that earlier.”
Something was odd. My father seemed rather on edge, slightly grumpy, and well, just out of it.
“I did?” He thought for a moment. “Hmm. Well, give Madame Batiste my regards. See you at the hotel my dear.” His aged hand reached over cupping the back of my head as he gave me a kiss on the forehead.
I finished packing up and took the address he was handing me and made my way out of the hall and onto the bustling street.
The smog was ever so present in the air. I tugged the case tighter towards me and covered my mouth with a kerchief to keep from breathing the musty air, moving through the crowds toward an incased map of the city.
Albercadia had done a fine job in placing these encasements throughout, making it easier for someone like me, and outsider, to navigate the city.
I moved like a chess piece through the crowds, finding my way toward the shop in what appeared to be a fashion district.
Men and women alike moved more slowly, gazing through windows, absorbing the displays. While others exited with clothing boxes nicely stacked and tied with their newly acquired vestments.
Toward the middle of a block I found the place I was looking for. Madame Batiste’s. One of the more elegant places.
A deep sigh and I moved in.
The place had a couple of uniformed helpers and more customers than I cared to be around. All siting sipping on tea, chatting amongst each other until I ruined their affair with my arrival.
Piercing cold glares followed me toward the counter, where a petite young girl stood behind carefully bundling a package.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Madame Batiste.”
Someone in the background snickered, and immediately the women were whispering behind my back. It took every ounce of me to not turn and send daggers their way.
Another helper approached the counter from the side, inspecting me from top to bottom before fixing her stare on my face. “I’m sorry, miss.” She said condescendingly. “Madame Batiste only attends to her elite clientele. If there is anything,” she looked me up and down again, “you need, please schedule an appointment.”
The silence was very telling of all those in the shop, fixated on just how I might react. So, instead of backing away, I stood taller and peered straight into the young woman’s eyes.
“Will then, will you please inform Madame Batiste that her appointment has arrived.”
The younger girl squirrel away while the other continued to silent challenge whether I belonged among them.
“Surely, you are mistaken. The Madame does not have anything on the books for today.”
“I assure you, miss, that you are mistaken. I have a private appointment with the lady. Now, if you would please…”
She interrupted me. “Miss…” again, her snooting look of disgust. “I attend to the Madame’s appointment calendar, personally. You are…’
“Giselle. I’ll take it from here.”
A tall elegant woman walked up to me and took me in her arms. “Oh, Drew was not lying. You look so much like her.”
Tears threatened to spill as she let go, taking in a deep breath, circling me as if to evaluate every inch of my body.
“I am Dolores Batiste, also known as Madame Batiste. I’m a childhood friend of your parents and have been so eager to meet you. So, thank you, my dearest Lillian, for allowing me to dress you for tonight’s dinner. Such a grand event among the highest of members of Albercadia’s society.”
Giselle, stood back, awestruck. “Madame...”
“Please, Giselle, clear the shop. I am taking this private appointment right now.”
When the red head didn’t move fast enough, Madame Batiste whipped her long elegant neck at her, “Did I speak in gibberish?”
Giselle shook her head and quickly turned to the other helpers who moved even faster to clear the shop.
The women all looked back as they took their leave, trying to figure out just what exactly was happening. All the while I gripped tightly at the case. I’d be damned if I lost the valuable piece in a dress shop.
4
The rose and gold long medieval sleeve brocade top with the high collar, trimmed tightly to my contours like a corset accentuated my upper body, while the mermaid style skirt went from fitted to slightly flared at the knees. The gold accents and accessories made me shine in a sea of neutral colors; specifically, bronze, brown, and black.
I pinned a few soft curls beneath an adorable gold top hat. The men would be wearing one, so why shouldn’t I, was my thought process.
My makeup was subtle. Just enough to accent. I was never into makeup, but even I recognized the purpose it served; to bring out one’s best features.
My father blew a light whistle when I joined him in the sitting room of our suite followed by an enormous smile.
“You are absolutely stunning, my dear Lilian.”
He circled around me to take in a full view.
When he was done, I noticed his hand scurry into the pocket of his coat. It resurfaced with the most exquisite pieces of jewelry; matching necklace with earrings.
The diamond cut choker was thin, anchored by a handcrafted mechanical heart of gold, iron, and silver.
“Train gears with wheels, spacers, and cogs from a few of your mothers’ old broken pieces of jewelry boxes. And that right there,” he said pointing to a tiny keyhole at the center of the sculpture. “either earring fits in there. When you turn it, it plays a quick few notes to a minuet your mother and I used to dance to.”
“A music box?”
“Of sorts.” He said rather proudly.
“Father. You’ve outdone yourself.”
He reached in to help me fasten the clasp, moving my loose locks to the side. “She would’ve been so proud of you.”
It seemed Albercadia brought out the nostalgic side of my father. In all my years, I never recalled him comparing me to my deceased mother, so much. I was starting to worry I wasn’t going to live up to the expectations.
“Thank you, father. It is beautiful. I’ll cherish these as long as I shall live.” I said, landing a peck on his cheek. “Shall we go now?”
“After you.”
The streetlamps illuminated the path as the horseless steam drawn carriage transported us to our destination. The de Pierre mansion.
We both gawked when the carriage turned onto a long private road, leading us through the guarded gates onto the grounds of the family’s estate.
Even in the evening I could see the work that went into the luscious green manicured grass. The fountains sprayed water in artful patterns and colors to the tune of orchestra music. The gardens in the distance were filled with flowers of all sorts.
But the most impressive was the architecture and attention to detail the de Pierre mansion shown, with its three-story high windows, massive wood framing against skilled masonry work.
The other guests distracted me with their loud voices and commotion, eager to join the party, reminding me I wasn’t on a tour, but a guest of Dominic de Pierre.
A grumbling in my stomach was more than hunger, it was the nauseating feeling of being in the man’s company, once again.
“It’s all rather impressive. Isn’t it, Lily?” My father said as he adjusted himself on the chocolatey brown velvet seat of the carriage.
I smiled. “It is. I suppose when you’re this rich, you can have whatever you want.”
“Oh, dear Lily, wait until you see the inside.”
“I can imagine.”
Our carriage reached the valet and two young footmen helped us down, directing us toward the massive bronze door with its exposed mechanical locking component on display at the entrance.
When I turned to look at my father, he was busy taking it all in. We passed through the threshold and an elegant butler asked for our names.
“Mr. and Miss Anderson. Sir Dominic is e
agerly expecting you. I believe you’ll find him at the cards tables.”
It took every ounce of me not to roll my eyes. After all, it wasn’t the butler’s fault I didn’t like his boss, yet there I was, standing in his home.
We were escorted by another young man through the elegant foyer past a grand hallway and up a rounded double-sided bifurcated marble staircase. The center landing opened to an enormous ballroom of sorts at a lower level from the entrance of the mansion. Below, the guests were buzzing to and from, while staff discreetly made their way through the crowds with glasses filled with elixirs waiting to help its host lighten the mood of each person present.
My father tightened his arm to hold mine firmly as we descended upon the room.
Slowly, heads turned in our direction, distracted by our arrival. The once loud room was now filled with whispers and murmurings. I dared not ask my father why for fear of tripping over myself and falling flat on my face.
That’s when I saw him. Dominic de Pierre, moving past his guests. A repulsive smile plastered on his face, as he reached the stairs just as we reached the bottom. He greeted my father rather quickly and turned his attention to me, raising his arm at the bend, offering it to me.
I fought back a mean scowl, offering a polite smile in return. “Thank you. I’m quite all right.” No sooner had I said that when my father released me.
“Thank you, Sir Dominic for having us here.”
He said, side eying me to not be rude. I reluctantly obeyed.
“It is an honor to have the Andrew Anderson in my home. Of course, accompanied by his beautiful daughter.”
And there it was. He couldn’t wait just a few seconds longer before he attempted to shower me with his unwelcome flattery.
My spine was straighter than it had ever been, keenly aware of the beautiful attire I was outfitted in. Madame Batiste had been all to kind in gifting me the ensemble, an act of kindness and an olive branch to what she hoped would be a beautiful friendship, as she’d once had with my mother.