Brass and Bone (11 page)

“Please.” My voice was soft, but there was a tone in it that couldn’t be ignored. At least, I hoped that he would hear it. “Do not let Henri learn that you’ve been here with me.”

“Cynara, forgive me, but you’re being ridiculous. If d’Estes has—”

I took hold of his hand then, squeezing it once. “Please.”

Simon’s eyes searched my face for a moment, and whatever he saw there must have convinced him where my words could not. He sighed then nodded. “Very well.”

When I heard the click of the lock, the fear that gripped me disappeared. It wasn’t much, but if I could keep Henri convinced that his threats had been successful, perhaps I could protect Simon. After all, Henri knew I didn’t fear him for my own sake. Perhaps that is why he threatened Simon instead.

I sat back before my mirror to brush my lips with my hand as I remembered the kiss Simon and I had just shared. Though I knew that his heart would never be mine, Simon’s affection and kindness meant much to me. Protecting him from Henri was the very least I could do in return.

As I took in my reflection, my mind began to race, and I smiled. My weapon, the only one I had at that moment, was Henri himself. And I would use his pride for my own advantage.

Henri would release me in the morning. I was sure of it.

***

I was sitting on the bed when Henri appeared at my door later the next morning. It was well after dawn, long after the noises of the airship filled my small compartment. Henri shut the door behind him, watching me in a silence I knew he didn’t expect me to break. My assessment proved correct when he tucked the keys back into his pocket and broke that silence himself.

“
Bonjour,
Cynara. Tell me. How are you this morning?”

I kept my head down to stare at my hands, the very picture of obedience until he moved to stand before me. I shook my head and bit the side of my cheek until tears sprang up in the corner of my eyes then buried my face in my hands.

Henri knelt down before me, prying my hands away, and I threw my arms around his neck.

“Oh, Henri! I’m so sorry! I have acted just dreadfully since…” The words became stuck in the back of my throat, but I forced them out nonetheless. “Since Jean-Pierre’s death. I don’t know what came over me. You are all I have left. The only one I have left, and I should have listened.”

Henri pulled me away, a victorious smile sitting smug on his face as he forced me to look at him. “I see you have recovered indeed. Does this mean you’ve decided not to kill me after all?”

I nodded, taking his handkerchief to wipe my eyes. “I am truly sorry for being such a burden to you. I am nothing more than a woman. Weak and stupid with her own emotions. I know I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but I do beg your mercy.”

“And the money? You will tell me where it is hidden?”

My facade almost shattered against the desire to scratch out his eyes for his selfishness. I covered my face with the handkerchief and nodded to hide my rage before whispering. “
Oui
. But I cannot tell you until we get back to Paris. I had the lawyers hide it, even from me, so that I would not be able to answer any questions regarding the funds if I were tortured by…by the Witchfinders.”

I couldn’t help but notice the reluctance Henri displayed as he wrapped me up into his embrace. But I was sure he was unaware that the shudders running through me were from anger instead of remorse.

He kissed me then, rough and possessive. I hated myself for the desire that arose from his embrace, so different than what I felt when I was with Simon. Henri brought out a darkness in me. A primal instinct that caused my heart to race madly.

He pushed me back farther onto the small bed as he ran his fingers through my curls, tugging on them and deepening our kiss. I felt the weight of my hair falling around my shoulders as I clung to Henri with a hunger I should have been ashamed of. But I wasn’t. This was what I had wanted, wasn’t it? His attention. His desire.

Now, as I lay beneath him and returned his affection, I was surprised at my thoughts. They weren’t images of love or passion. Instead, I hated myself for the arousal that came from his embrace, which was so different than what I felt when I was with Simon.

Henri seemed to be just as affected as I was. His face was flushed with the heat of our encounter, his hair disarranged and his jacket rumpled. Indeed, I could feel his desire for me coming off his body in waves. So I was surprised when he shoved himself upright and planted a final kiss on my swollen mouth.

“Straighten up, my darling. Your new friends are clamoring to see you.”

I sprang from the bed, all but knocking Henri aside as I rushed to undo the damage our little encounter had caused to my hair and my dress. I smoothed out the wrinkles covering my shirtwaist and pulled my curls upward into a chignon. When I was finished, I couldn’t help but notice that Henri had taken the time to smooth out his own clothing as well.

“Very well then.” Henri offered me his arm. “You are quite delightful now that you’ve come back to your senses. Absolutely delightful.”

I felt like one of Jane Austen’s ninnies, but I managed to keep my eyes downward when he led me from the room. Henri was nothing more than a bully. A vain one. Easily played once he believed himself to be the victor.

I glanced away from him as we entered the main compartment, winking once to Simon who was reading by the windows.

“Look who is feeling better today!” Henri proclaimed. “Our lovely witch has finally decided to join the rest of us.”

“Indeed.” Simon’s tone was dry as he sat his book aside and approached us. Their darling servant, Rupert, did as well, rushing forward to demand I eat something. Henri sat me down at the small table and left. He seemed insistent on telling Lady Abigail of my reemergence himself. No doubt, his eagerness came from his attempts to impress the captain.

Simon leaned over from his place behind me, hissing in my ear as he watched Henri disappear. “Pray tell, dear minx, but what are you doing?”

I didn’t turn toward him, but I’m sure he caught sight of my smile. “Placating my enemy, Goose, and gaining my freedom.”

“You don’t need to do this. Whatever it is you are doing.”

“I promise,
mon ami
, I will explain everything. But please, for now, play along,” I whispered, squeezing the hand he’d placed on my shoulder. “Come to my cabin again tonight, and if you would be so kind, bring a tool of some sort.”

“A what? Whatever for?”

I watched as Henri returned to us, the Lady Abigail in tow. I lowered my voice once more, turning my gaze away from Simon and back to studying the wood grain of the table. “Something to destroy that damned lock with. Forgive me, but come Hell or its demons, I will not be imprisoned in that room again.”

Though Simon took my hint and turned to study the passing clouds with a bored grace that only an Englishman could master, I heard him chuckle under his breath. “Minx, indeed.”

***

The lock on the door was stubborn. A shiny brass contraption that fought against the abuses I was intent on inflicting against it with the sharp stick of metal Simon had brought for me. I growled once at its insistence on staying together while Simon watched on from his perch at my dressing table. I didn’t have to turn around to know that his curiosity was getting the better of him. I was quick to learn that Simon’s impatience showed itself through his fidgeting hands. His ragged sighs.

Just when I was on the verge of throwing the wretched tool across the room, I felt him come behind me. I looked up to see him reach for the device in my hand and gladly relinquished it to him.

“If I do this for you, will you please sit down and tell me just exactly what it is that you are scheming?”

I nodded and stood, wiping my hands on my skirt. Though I’d been fighting with the lock for what seemed to be ages, it was only moments before I heard the wood door crack beneath the pressure Simon had applied. He turned and handed the tool back to me before gesturing at the chair for me to sit.

“
Merci beaucoup
, Simon.” I gave him my most charming smile as I sat and faced him. “I owe you an explanation, do I not?”

“You do.” My companion moved to take the seat across from me on the edge of my bed. “But I must confess, I don’t believe you will tell me everything.” He raised a single hand to stop my objections. “I say that not because I don’t trust you. Only because I feel there is more that you are not willing to share. Answer my questions instead.”

I sighed and met his golden eyes with my own. “As you wish,
mon ami
. Ask what you will.”

Simon had started to fidget again, but I waited. Trying to decide what I should tell him, or rather, what I could confess. There was so much about Henri I wasn’t willing to share with anyone, not even dear Simon. But the offences done against me were heavy. A burden that I wanted to relieve myself from. It would be difficult for me to maintain my silence.

“What, exactly, were you doing this morning?”

I shrugged. “As I said, placating the enemy. I knew that if Henri believed I was going to be a well-behaved prisoner from now on, then he would relinquish his need to hold me in this room. And provide me with a bit more freedom.”

“I unlocked the door last night. You could have left it that way. But I must admit that the fear you displayed was unsettling. Don’t believe that I’ve forgotten about the marks on your neck I saw at Bartleby, Cynara. Is that what you’re so afraid of? Has he committed more acts of violence against you? Threatened you?”

I looked away from Simon, filled with a sudden apprehension as my fingers began to trace the perfume bottle closest to my reach. I did not want to share this with him. But my silence was his acceptance.

Simon pushed off the bed and started to move across the room before I could react.

When I did, I placed a hand on his arm, and he froze. “Simon, Goose…stop.
S’il vous plait
.” I maneuvered myself between him and the door, unwilling for him to face Henri about my injuries.

His expression was blank, but his eyes glowed in the most unnerving way. Simon wouldn’t look at me as he responded, and I could hear the anger underlying his words. “Let me pass, Cynara.”

“
Non
.”

His protective nature played against my emotions; I felt an ache in my heart as they reminded me of the one I’d lost. I shook my head in an attempt to try to distill that dulled pain before I faced him.

“Simon, please. You don’t know everything, and you don’t know Henri as I do. If you rush over and try to defend me, then—”

“I know enough, Cynara.” I could see the muscles in his jaw clench as he responded. “He will be off of this ship by dawn.”

“Simon, for one more moment listen to me.” My words rushed out before I could stop them. “
Oui
. Henri and I share a past that is best forgotten. And,
oui
, he has both committed violence and uttered threats against me. But, my dear friend, think of what this would mean. Sir Eli’s box will not be delivered or, rather, he will not believe that it has been without Henri’s word. And your own beloved will be held to account for it. Think of what the results of any action against Henri would mean for your Lady Abigail.”

Simon relaxed at the sound of her name, and his shoulders fell in resignation. He wrapped his hands around my arms and held me for a moment before resting his forehead against my own. “Cynara, I can’t just let—”

“
Oui
. You can. Please. Don’t try to protect me from him. The costs are too great.”

Simon pulled back and though I could see that I had won, his expression was stern, the anger in his eyes still smoldering. “Very well. But if he commits any further violence…”

I shook my head. “
Non
. I don’t believe that he will. And this is truly the most unbearable subject that I refuse to speak of any longer. Let’s talk of something else.
S’il vous plait
?”

It appeared Simon wasn’t ready to change the subject. But he was willing to comply with my wishes as I pulled him back into the room. Back into the seat he had vacated in his anger. And for that I was grateful. Within moments the heavy tension that had filled my compartment before shifted into the comfortable aura that radiated off of Simon as I begged for him to tell me of Egypt. It was to be our next stop, and I was most curious about it. Though I was willing to talk of anything other than Henri, or the explanation that Simon had wanted so badly.

By the time he began his departure from me, Simon’s mood had returned to its usual cheerfulness. I was standing at my door, thanking him again for his assistance, when he reached out and brushed the side of my face.

“Promise to tell me, Minx. Don’t fight him alone.”

I nodded. He slipped away to his own compartment. For a moment I was sure the shadows farther down the hall moved, and my heart stopped as I shut the door. I stood against it for a little while longer, afraid that Henri had seen us.

When I finally pushed myself away and prepared for bed, I whispered a prayer into my mirror: “Protect us, Gods of Old, for we know not what dangers we face. Now, and in the future.”

The gas lamp flared once, and flickered before leaving me to my fears, and to the darkness.

I leaned back against the pillows in my bunk, lulled by the soothing, nearly inaudible hum of the
Invincible’s
engines, and thought of our trip thus far. Really, it had been quite eventful, as I’m sure anyone would agree. Far more interesting than a trip to Brighton or Margate Sands.
 

Earthquakes.

Bandits.

Witches.

Magical boxes and cursed books.

Distasteful Frenchmen.

Delicious French women.

Not for the first time, I felt we’d fallen into an issue of Abigail’s favorite reading material, the penny dreadful. Yes, I admit it—my own favorite too.

I touched the tender spot on my chest with an inquisitive finger. Little more than a bruise was left from the ghastly hole Abigail had insisted she’d seen.

I had not dared tell her I had felt the bullet entering my flesh, could still recall the exquisite agony spreading through me, remembered the darkness threatening to envelope me, held at bay by nothing more than the touch and the voice of a lovely golden-haired goddess.

I shook away the image. I only wished I could force the memory to depart as well.

But we had left danger behind us now, surely—at least for a time. What could harm us, floating above the clouds, with my darling Abigail at the controls of her own airship? Our next stop was the island of Malta. I had never visited the place, and I was looking forward seeing it, with Abigail on one arm and Cynara on the other.

I slid down in my bunk and closed my eyes, the better to dream…

“Drat!” I heard my favorite voice say through the thin partition between my cabin and the bridge. “Where did I put that blasted map?”

How could I help but smile? All was right with the world.

My world, at least.