by Colt, K. J.
They talked for a few minutes and Penny explained what she had in mind. The Duke’s mention of the ball had apparently caught her fancy, something I would never have expected. She wanted Rose’s advice about how to appear, and other details.
“Don’t go as Mordecai’s guest, since he’s not going. Come as my companion,” Rose suggested. “You’ll draw less attention that way, and since he’s not yet known as the Count di’Cameron, you’ll get more respect as my friend.”
“That’s fine,” Penny said, “It doesn’t really matter to me either way. My true concern is that I don’t have a dress. I never expected to attend an event like this, being what I am.”
Rose smiled at her, “That won’t be an issue my dear. I’m glad you called me first, I have just the thing for you. You’re close to my size anyway.” Rose Hightower was probably the tallest woman at Lancaster Castle, standing five foot eleven inches, but Penny was rather tall herself and stood close to her height. “Mordecai,” she continued, “Penny is going to need some things if you intend to keep her.”
I looked up, “What do you need?”
Rose smiled at me, “Ten gold marks should do.” I choked, that was enough to buy a farm, two if you bargained hard. My father didn’t make more than two or three gold marks in a year, if things went very well. She saw my expression, “Hand it over, my lord, you aren’t living that life anymore, and if you don’t start thinking of her needs, Penny is going to suffer for it.”
I counted out the money and handed it over, and Rose gave me a pat on the shoulder, “That’s a good man. When I’m done you won’t regret it. Just be glad I’m not charging you for my services.”
They left then, Rose taking Penny by the arm. I swear I could hear them laughing as they walked down the hall. Once they had gotten back to the rooms Rose was staying in, she proceeded to show Penny a selection of dresses. She had packed with the intention of being ready for anything.
Penny was concerned, “These are much too fine for me Rose.”
“As long as you aren’t better dressed than me, nothing is too good for you my sweet,” Rose said with a twinkle in her eye. “We might have to have the seamstresses in to raise the hem a bit, the length is ok on you, but we need to show a bit more of your ankle for the proper impact.”
“If you don’t mind my asking Rose, what will we use the money for? If you’re lending me one of your dresses, surely that’s all we need.”
“I’m thinking of the future, particularly yours,” Rose replied. Wasting no time she sent one of the servants out to fetch a dressmaker. Once the woman had arrived she began discussing fabrics and styles. Several hours went by as Rose ordered a bewildering array of things, from blouses to garters, nightgowns and skirts. At the end, she had agreed to pay the woman almost five gold marks for an impressive selection of clothes; winter and summer dresses, and even ball gowns.
“It’ll take me several weeks to manage all of this, milady,” the woman said.
“That’s fine, just be sure to send along the nightgowns and house-clothes first, she’ll need those as soon as possible.” Rose paid her then, never thinking to consider she might be cheated. Penny realized that she wouldn’t be. You don’t cheat nobility, not if you want more business; not if you want to continue eating.
“What’s the rest of the money for?” Penny asked, and Rose gave her a sly grin, handing her the remaining money.
“I can’t take this! It isn’t my money,” she protested.
“You are a lady now, or soon will be. As a Countess you will need to know how to handle yourself with money. Even more so, you must never be perceived as having to count coins. Use it, waste it, make sure people see it, and don’t ever act as though you need it.” Rose gave her a serious look, “I’m not joking. Your future will rely on learning these things. As soon as you have that boy of yours wed, make sure he gives you an allowance. If people suspect he’s being cheap with you, they will think he’s broke. If they think he’s broke, things will get hard for him. Never let them smell blood.”
Penny could see the sense of her words, but she felt like a fraud. She had no intention of marrying now, she would not live out the week, much less see the day those clothes Rose had ordered arrived. Yet she had to keep up the pretense. If Rose caught wind of her plan, it would be all over.
They went back to the ball gowns again. “Rose, this might sound odd, but I don’t feel safe going to the ball without Mordecai. Do you suppose I might—carry something?” She gave the woman an uncertain glance.
Rose understood immediately, “Oh my, I would tell you that you have nothing to fear, but I know why you feel as you do.” She went back to her closet. She returned with another dress, this one had long flowing sleeves in contrast to the others which had had close fitting sleeves. “This will do the trick, though it’s a shame, you have such pretty arms.”
In truth Penny liked the other dresses better, but function would be more important tomorrow evening, “So how do the sleeves help?” she asked.
Rose gave her a feral grin, “I take it you want to carry a dagger, correct?”
Penny nodded.
“And considering your feelings, something like this probably wouldn’t be enough,” she plucked a small slender knife from her bodice.
“Do you always carry that?!” Penny was a bit shocked.
“Just because I said you were safe doesn’t mean a girl shouldn’t be prepared. But if you want to carry something more serious,” she walked over to a trunk and began rummaging before standing back up, “like this.” She held a double edged dagger with a seven inch blade, “You’ll need sleeves, big sleeves. Here let me show you.” She brought out an odd scabbard for the dagger, with several straps attached.
“So you strap it to your wrists?” Penny didn’t know what to think of this noblewoman who suddenly seemed so intimately familiar with blades.
“Ordinarily, yes, but not for a dance. You’ll be lifting one arm, to rest on a gentleman’s shoulder, and your sleeve may slide back. Plus, he might feel it when he touches your wrist, so the forearm is a fashion no-no.”
“Oh.”
“There are two main ways for a lady to wear something as considerable as this. The first is strapped to your leg, either the calf, or the inner or outer thigh. The calf is impractical if you wish to use it quickly, and the outer thigh will spoil the lines of some dresses. The inner thigh is my preference, but it can be awkward, especially if you’re dancing. Plus the dress needs to be designed for it, like this...” She slid her hand between the pleats of her skirt and brought out a dagger similar to the one she had gotten for Penny. A hidden slit in the dress allowed her to reach her leg.
“Good lord Rose, you’re a walking arsenal!” Penny exclaimed.
“And don’t you forget it,” Rose winked at her.
“Have you ever needed one—to use?” Penny was curious.
“Not yet. Usually you can discourage even the worst of them before it comes to that, but it pays to be prepared.” Rose discussed the topic with a casual nonchalance that Penny could not help but envy.
“So how will I wear this one? So that I can dance?” Penny asked.
“Here,” Rose pointed to the inside of her upper arm. “It won’t be entirely comfortable, but your partner won’t feel it, and if your sleeve slides back it won’t be revealed. Put on the dress, and I’ll show you how it works.” They got Penny into the dress, which took several minutes, but it fit well. “Now, we strap it to the inner side of your upper arm, with the hilt down. The sheath is built to hold it, even in that position. Show me how you will draw it if you need.”
Penny thrust her right hand up the left sleeve and grabbed for the handle. “No, no!” Rose remonstrated. “You do that, and he’ll be three feet back and calling for his mother to save him.”
Penny laughed at the image, “Isn’t that the point? To warn him off?”
Rose shook her head, “Not publicly, you’ll wound his pride and earn yourself a bad reputation. If
you do need it, you want to have the blade against his skin before he realizes it, so you can quietly make him aware of your feelings. Once he’s admitted defeat you can replace it, and no one is humiliated—publicly.”
The methods Rose described suited Penny’s purpose perfectly, although she did not mean to use the blade for self-protection.
Rose went on, “As a woman you have to remember, if he catches on to your intentions, you lose most of your advantage. He’s bigger, stronger, and possibly quicker. Put your hands together, gracefully... then slide them to your elbows, as if you are thinking, or perhaps cold. From there you can easily grasp the hilt.”
Penny couldn’t help but wonder how she would do that while dancing, but she didn’t dare ask. That question might be too direct, so she asked a different question. “Rose, do all noblewomen carry weapons?”
Rose snorted, “No, only the smart ones.”
“Who taught you all this?” Penny added.
“My mother,” and then she regretted it when she saw the look on Penny’s face. She had already heard of Penny’s own loss. “Penny, this may sound odd, but if you will have me, I already consider you a sister.”
Penny’s eyes misted, and without thinking, she hugged Rose, “I always wanted a sister,” but inwardly she already felt bad for the betrayal she knew was coming. She could only hope that Rose would someday recover, once she was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Little is known of the time before the Sundering, when Balinthor nearly destroyed the world. Most historians agree that mages were freer then and more common. They were not bound by the Anath’Meridum. The gods of men were still young, and too weak to threaten their power. The Dark Gods were powerful, but none were foolish enough to bargain with them. In those days almost all kings were wizards themselves, but whether they were foolish or wise is not known. Poetry would suggest they were wise, but stories are like pictures, painted to show their best sides. In all likelihood they were as petty, foolish and sometimes cruel as rulers today.
~Marcus the Heretic,
On the Nature of Faith and Magic
I WAS SITTING UP READING when Penny returned, and I was grateful for the distraction. As interesting as it was, A Grammar of Lycian was not the sort of book to keep you awake for long. I had been searching it and experimenting with some of the words I found there, trying to speed up my recovery. Inner exploration had shown me that, while my lungs were both functioning now, there was a lot of blood around one of them. I had spent considerable time trying to get the blood broken up so that my body could remove it more easily.
That turned out to be quite difficult, and I wasn’t sure what effect my efforts had produced, so I also worked on making improvements to my ribs and the muscles supporting them. I really wasn’t sure, but I thought that I had them in good shape. They seemed to be aligned properly now, and I had them fused better. I also experimented with some of the words I found in the book, and may have made my ribs stronger than they normally should be, but there was no good way to test the theory.
I resisted the urge to try anything with my brain. That way lay madness. I could tell however, that the swelling was gone, and I did fix a small crack in one of the bones of my skull. Surely that couldn’t cause any unforeseen problems.
“You’re home early,” I said, trying to sound domestic. I’m also quite funny in addition to being brilliant. Honestly I am, I tell myself so all the time.
“Did you take that bath?” she asked. Penny seemed to have a one track mind sometimes.
“Have I mentioned how lovely you look?” My skills in the subtle art of noble discourse had been improving lately, so I thought I might try a distraction. If only Penny would cooperate with my cleverness.
She leaned in, sniffing, and wrinkled her nose, “You stink.” The conversation went downhill from there, and before long she had servants bringing in a large copper tub and buckets of hot water. Knowing all the staff made it terribly easy for her to quickly find the people she wanted. I would have been impressed with her efficiency if it hadn’t been directed at me.
Once everyone had gone (you would be amazed at how many people it takes to draw a proper bath), she gave me a hard look. “Strip,” she said. Somehow the way she said it managed to take all the sexy out of the word.
“Yes ma’am,” I replied, waggling my eyebrows at her. I’ll be damned it I let her take the fun out of the conversation. I was feeling quite a bit better at the moment, so I got my clothes off unaided and eased myself into the tub. The water was very warm, almost steaming.
I have to admit, it was the best bath I’d ever had up to that point in my life; especially considering I had a lovely woman to scrub my back. She even washed my hair; something I had never known could be so pleasurable. I closed my eyes and relaxed. I was in heaven. A splash caught my attention and I opened one eye, apparently one of the angels had come down to join me in the bath. Things got rather more interesting from there.
A while later we lay between cool linen sheets, recuperating. I couldn’t believe the good fortune Lady Luck had handed me. At that point I was too happy and contented to remember that Lady Luck is also a brazen bitch. I would regret that later.
Despite the covers, the bed seemed cold. I pulled the blankets up further. Penny snuggled beside me. “Mort, you seem awfully hot,” she said.
“That would be entirely your fault, my little minx,” I pulled her in for another kiss, and the room spun a little. “I do feel a little woozy, though,” I added.
I had a fever. Not to point any fingers, but looking back I suspect it might have had something to do with my efforts to help my body reabsorb the excess blood in my chest. Messing with Mother Nature can be a mistake sometimes; she and Lady Luck are probably good friends. Penny was the very picture of concern and empathy. She pulled the sheets back, exposing me to the cold air. She must have been taking notes from Mother Nature and Lady Luck. They’re all in on it together I tell you, one big female conspiracy.
“What? No, no, it’s cold! Gimme those back!” I’m a skilled debater when I put my mind to it.
“You have a fever, and you need to cool off.” She refused to let me get the sheets past my waist. Without a doubt it’s because she wanted to gaze upon my chiseled muscles.
“I bet you tell all your fiancée’s that.” It made sense to me, but obviously I wasn’t quite as clear headed as I thought. Penny draped a wet cloth across my forehead. She didn’t seem too impressed with my attempts at humor.
After Penny had satisfied herself that I wasn’t in imminent danger of an early demise, we lay uncovered on the bed. She still wouldn’t let me have the covers, but she did permit me to borrow some of her warmth. I rather liked her warmth. “Mort,” she said, “I have a question.”
Even in my fevered state that set off my warning sensors. “What sort of question,” I replied guardedly.
“If I ever did something bad, something really bad, that made everyone else hate me—would you still love me?”
What the hell kind of question is that? I thought, but I was wise enough to frame a better reply. “I would still love you. I know you well enough to know that you would have your reasons, even if they didn’t make sense to everyone else at the time. Why?”
“I just wondered. The past few days have changed so much in my life that I guess I need a little reassurance,” she said.
“A few days ago I didn’t even realize I loved you, so it’s a little early trying to figure out ways to get rid of me,” I smiled at her. Stupid never dies. Looking back I can hardly believe I was so naive. I went to sleep dreaming of open skies, chasing a crazy tomboy of a girl through verdant fields. That has always been my best memory of Penelope Cooper. Even now as I look back, I realize that was when I first fell in love with her. Somewhere in my heart, she will always be that silly girl with grass in her hair.
Penelope woke early, as was her habit. Mordecai still slept, but his temperature had cooled so she drew a thin sheet over him. The ball wa
s today. She looked at the dress hanging in the corner of the room. It was a beautiful combination of blue velvet and lace. She had tried it on with Rose the day before, amazed at how lovely it was when she looked in the mirror. It showed her bosom off to great advantage without being tasteless, and the fabric draped gracefully to accent her figure, exposing just a hint of her ankles. It was ironic that this would be the only day she would ever get to wear such a garment, and that Mordecai wouldn’t be there to enjoy seeing her in it.
I don’t want him there, she thought. That’s not how she wanted him to remember her. Considering that, she decided that perhaps she should write a letter. She couldn’t explain herself, but at least she could make sure he didn’t blame himself. She checked to make sure he was still sleeping soundly before going to the writing table.
Unlike some of the maids at Lancaster Castle, Penny was perfectly able to read and write. It was partly because of Mordecai, but in large part because she had always had a strong curiosity and a desire to learn. Unfortunately her penmanship was not the equal of her wordsmithing, but he would just have to deal with her bad handwriting. She took up pen and carefully wrote out a long letter. Several blots and misspellings forced her to start over a few times, but at last she had a letter she wouldn’t be embarrassed to have him read. Except for the content of course, but there was no helping that. She folded it carefully and put it away, she wouldn’t want him to see it until later.
I opened my eyes to the faint sound of a brush moving through thick hair. Penny sat at the dressing table across the room. Her task wasn’t easy, she had a lot of curls in her long dark hair and they had a tendency to tangle. It took quite a while to get it smoothed out, and when she was almost done she felt my eyes on her. I had woken half way through the process and lay quietly watching. It was fascinating to see her working the brush slowly through the long tresses. I could have watched her all day.
She smiled at me in the mirror, “Are you feeling better?”