A Clockwork Fairytale (9 page)

Melba stared at his lean fingers curled together. She
wanted
to press her lips against his hands. She nearly said so, but she sensed he wouldn’t be amused.

“Have you finished recording you observations?” he asked.

Melba pushed her notebook across the desk to him. “Can’t think of no more to write.”

“I cannot think of
any
more to write.” Master Turk gave her a meaningful look and she huffed. She was getting annoyed with the way he kept correcting her.

He read through her five-page report in a couple of minutes, a frown crossing his face once or twice. “Very good. You have excellent observational skills, Melba.”

She grinned with pleasure at his praise and waited for him to say more. Instead, he closed her notebook and checked his pocket watch. “Ain’t we going to discuss it?” she asked.

“A spy doesn’t need to understand his observations. A spy’s duty is simply to follow his
or her
master’s instructions and report what is seen.”

“That ain’t fair! You’ve got to explain what you meant about the Royal Victualler’s charity not being what it seemed.”

“We
will
discuss that subject, but I have an appointment in half an hour, so we’ll save the discussion for another day.”

After waiting three days to talk about it, now she had to wait some more. Melba sat back and crossed her arms with a frustrated grunt.

“Don’t look so miserable,” he said. “It’s time for your reward.”

The gilt box containing the dress they’d collected from the market sat on a table by the library door. During the last three days, she’d started to imagine it contained a nag’s collar like the ones the poor workhorses down at the docks wore.

“Show some enthusiasm, Melba,” Master Turk said, rising from his seat to cross the room. He returned and placed the box on the desk in front of her. “I’ll call Gwinnie to assist you with changing.”

“No! I don’t want no help from her.” Gwinnie hadn’t softened toward Melba during the weeks she had lived at the palace. The old woman was as obnoxious as ever.

“You’ll need someone to fasten the back of the dress for you,” Turk explained.

“Can’t you do it? You got fingers, ain’t you?”

“I’m a man, Melba.”

“Does that mean your fingers don’t work on dresses?”

Master Turk’s breath hissed in between his teeth. “Oh, all right. But be quick about changing. I have to leave in a few minutes.”

Melba snatched up the box and headed for the library door. “Wait on the chair outside me room and I’ll call you in when I’m ready,” she said.

“Great Earth Jinn, Melba! Don’t order me around as though I’m your lady’s maid.”

Melba grinned at the outrage in his voice and scampered up the stairs to her room before he could change his mind. She pulled the lid off the gilt box and tipped the contents on the bed. A blue bundle landed with a soft rustle of fabric. Pushing aside the crinkly tissue paper, she spread the dress out. Melba’s mouth dropped open and her heart missed a beat. She didn’t want to like the dress, but the material was the color of a summer sky and as silky as rose petals.

Smoothing her hand over the skirt, she watched light shimmer across the surface, changing the shade of blue. Despite the extravagant material, the dress was a simple style she liked with a fine lace trim around the bodice and the sleeves.

In a fold of tissue paper underneath the dress, she found a pair of frilly drawers and a thin white underdress. She tugged off her breeches, jacket, and shirt and pulled on the underthings, then turned to look at herself in the mirror. She’d never had underclothes before. Master Maddox used to tell her drawers were only for nobs. She’d definitely come up in the world now she had
frilly
drawers. Carefully, she lifted the blue dress, stepped into it, and pushed her arms through the sleeves. She had hoped she could dress herself, but the tiny hooks on the back were out of reach.

Holding the back closed, Melba pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth and examined herself in the mirror. Her hair had grown an inch or more and surrounded her face with a thick fringe of golden waves. The blue dress brought out the color of her eyes and now her pale skin was clean, the fine line of her golden eyebrows showed. She really did look like a girl now. A flurry of mixed emotions confused her. The dress was so pretty she couldn’t deny she liked the way it made her look, but at the same time, she didn’t want to be a girl. She prodded her swelling chest. Thank the Great Earth Jinn the bodice wasn’t tight. The thought of having to go before Master Turk with her bubbies bulging out made her want to hide.

What would he think when he saw her in the dress? Would he be pleased that she looked like a girl? Would he think she was pretty? Her heart pattered and she snatched a breath. She flexed her fingers against the silky fabric and gathered her courage. “Master Turk,” she shouted in a quavering voice. “I’m ready.”

***

When Melba called Turk’s name, he was sitting on the chair outside her room holding a wooden box of beauty preparations. Good sense screamed at him not to step inside her room while she was changing, let alone touch her to fasten her dress. She was no longer the skinny ragamuffin he’d brought home; she was a princess in the making. Why in the name of the Great Earth Jinn had he agreed to help her dress? He should have put his foot down and made her accept Gwinnie’s help. Yet one look at her big blue eyes and he found himself saying yes when he should be saying no.

Grabbing a breath, he stood and opened her bedchamber door. She was staring at herself in the mirror. She swung around with a soft swish of silk and held out her arms at her sides. “What do you think?” she asked with a tentative smile.

For a few seconds Turk forgot to breathe. He’d chosen the blue silk to match her eyes and the effect was stunning. Her mother had been a celebrated beauty and Melba resembled the pictures of the queen. Up till now, he’d thought of Mel as neither male nor female, but simply a project. He would never make that mistake again. With her soft golden curls, female curves, and delicate beauty, she was undeniably a young lady.

Her grin faded and he realized he hadn’t responded to her question. “You look very… nice,” he said, his normally sharp wits struggling to find an appropriate adjective.

She turned and presented her back to him. “You gonna do me up then?”

“Of course.” He placed the beauty box on her dressing table and stared at the slice of milk-white skin and silky chemise visible through the gaping back of her dress. His fingers felt hot and clumsy as he flexed them. Nothing he’d experienced had prepared him to perform this simple task. During his time in the cloistered community of the Shining Brotherhood, females were barely mentioned. Even now that he worked as a spy in society, he still honored his vow of celibacy and didn’t consort with women.

“Come on,” Melba said. “I thought you was in a hurry.”

He was. Except he could hardly think past drawing his next breath. Turk cleared his throat and fumbled with the bottom hook in the small of her back. The dress was not tight, so he managed to fasten most of the hooks without touching her undergarment. A hot tingling sensation ran around his body and his skin prickled with sweat. He paused to run his finger around his neck beneath his cravat.

Melba glanced over her shoulder. “What’s in the box, sir?”

Sir… How ludicrous she should call him sir when he felt as ignorant and out of his depth as a child. He doubled his effort not to touch her where the dress closed over her bare neck. His breath hissed out with relief as he fastened the last hook and stepped back. “The box contains preparations for beautification as used by young ladies of Court, Melba. You’ll have to examine the contents and experiment. Some gentlemen wear gliss, but I prefer a plain look and have no knowledge of its application.”

As she turned the tiny brass key in the box’s lock and opened the lid, he checked his pocket watch and gathered his scattered wits. “I really should be going, Melba,” he said backing toward the door. But despite his eagerness to escape, he found himself unable to leave until he’d seen her reaction to the box’s contents.

Eyes wide with wonder, Melba lifted the nine square crystal bottles out and lined them up on the dressing table. “There’s so many. What’re they all for?”

Without intending to, he found himself stepping back to her side. “Red lip balm and pink lip balm,” he said pointing to the engraved silver labels on the first two bottles. “Surely those are self-explanatory.”

“Silver gliss and gold gliss.” Melba picked up the next two bottles. “What’s gliss?”

“The shiny powder the nobs wear.”

“Oh!” She squealed with excitement—a girly sound he’d never expected to hear spring from Melba’s lips. She unstoppered a bottle, detached the application brush from inside the box lid, and dipped it in the gold gliss.

“I suggest you start with a small amount,” he said, wondering how long it would take her to coat the whole room in gold powder.

She cast him a mischievous sideways glance as she feathered the brush across her cheeks, and giggled. “It’s tickly.”

“I don’t think that’s the p—” Before he could finish, she swiped the brush across his cheek. He jumped back, a shocked laugh bursting from his mouth. She came after him, attacking him with the brush. He tried to bat her hand away, but he didn’t want to hurt her so she had the advantage. Giggling, she scattered gold powder on him. He found himself laughing, her excitement infectious.

Everything about her assailed his senses; her soft rose fragrance filled his nose while the silky fabric of her dress and her warm skin set his fingertips alight. Unfamiliar pleasure left him lightheaded like a shot of strong spirits. For a few minutes he forgot who he was and why Melba was here, forgot his vows and his duty to the Shining Brotherhood. Finally, when she jabbed the brush in his ear, he managed to grip her wrist and put a stop to her sport. She laughed up at him, her face glowing. “I love making you laugh,” she said breathlessly.

For long moments, he held her wrist, winded as if he had been running the skyways, and stared into the sparkling blue of her mischievous eyes. Melba touched a place inside him he hadn’t even known existed before she came into his life.

In the hall outside, the grandfather clock chimed the hour and reality hit Turk like a splash of cold water. For the first time in his life, he was late for an appointment with his master. What would Gregorio think when he read his memories and realized he’d been detained by frivolity? Turk released Melba and stepped back. He must remember that transforming her into a young lady was a job. His success was important to the fate of Malverne Isle and to the Shining Brotherhood. He brushed the gliss off his jacket as he made his way to the door. “I must be off. I’ve work to do.”

Acting as Melba’s lady’s maid was a mistake that would not happen again. He must guard against his instinct to please her lest he forget his duty. He wiped his face and dusted the rest of the gold powder from his jacket with a handkerchief. As he descended the stairs, he whispered a prayer to the Great Earth Jinn and his heartbeat calmed. All would be well. This was simply one more challenge he must overcome in pursuit of his duty.

Then he heard Melba’s bedchamber door open and she shouted down, “Don’t be late back, sir. I’ll need you to undo me dress at bedtime.”

Chapter Six

Earth gives and Earth takes away
.

—Master Turk

Just walking along the mucky street in the third circle made Vittorio feel dirty. He’d only endured his time as a ship’s captain working with the scum who unloaded the ships in the outer circle because he knew he didn’t belong among them. As Royal Victualler, he was within reach of his goal. Just because his father Gregorio had abdicated the throne and failed to acknowledge him as his son, did not mean he would give up his rightful claim to succession. In a few more months, his plan to regain his birthright would come to fruition and he would never have to set foot in the outer circles again.

He hugged the shadows, pausing in an alley a few doors down from the baker’s shop where fourteen years ago he’d left the baby princess.

The shop was closed at this late hour, but the yeasty smell of bread still hung in the air. The yellow light of an oil lantern lit the small grubby upstairs window while the flickering light from a candle penetrated the crack between the shutters downstairs.

A faint footfall warned that someone was stalking him under cover of darkness. Just let the blighter try something. Vittorio enjoyed turning the tables on the scum when he had the chance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blade glint in the moonlight. “You lost your way, sir?” the man asked with a sly chuckle.

Palming his dagger, Vittorio swung around to face the man. He slipped his other hand in his jacket pocket to find the tiny ice-cold tin beetle containing a Foul Jinn. “No. But you’re about to lose your sanity.”

The small tin doodad was a
gift
for Master Maddox, but Vittorio could spare a taste of terror for the would-be attacker if necessary. The ruffian must have had a trace of latent power, because the whites of his eyes flashed in the moonlight as he sensed the malevolence of the Jinn. With a scuffle of boots, the man fled into the darkness.

Vittorio resheathed his dagger and returned his attention to the baker’s shop. Once the night was quiet again, he made his way across the dirty, rutted alley to the front door. He thumped with the side of his fist, rattling the wood in its frame.