Constance tied the corset off and Maeko turned sideways to the mirror.
It did dramatize her somewhat understated feminine curves. Perhaps it would serve a purpose if she were looking to catch a boy’s interest, which she most certainly wasn’t.
What would Ash think?
Her cheeks warmed.
Chaff would probably laugh himself to death. How humiliating that would be.
She chewed her lip and faced the mirror again. She put a hand on one hip and cocked it toward the mirror, bending her knee a touch to give the posture a jaunty look.
Not so bad.
What if Chaff didn’t laugh? What would she do then?
She remembered the kiss he’d given her before Joel was captured. Her fingers started to rise to her lips. She caught herself before the gesture could draw suspicion from Constance, using the hand instead to brush hair away from her forehead.
“You look lovely, Miss, but might I suggest putting the rest of this on before you head out for supper.” Constance gestured to the chemise and many ridiculous layers of fabric that made up the rest of the ensemble.
Maeko flushed and allowed Constance to continue dressing her.
She put a hand to her drawn in waist when the rest of the layers were on, feeling a bit lightheaded. “People actually eat in these things?”
Constance pursed her lips, suppressing the amused smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth and finished arranging layers of the dress. She stepped back and turned her gaze to Maeko’s reflection in the long mirror. “There you are, a proper lady. And yes, they eat like ladies should. Sparingly.”
Maeko frowned and turned to the mirror again. Lavender was a long way from her favorite color, but the two-tone dress of velvet and taffeta was rather flattering. The young woman in the reflection looked so much like a younger version of her mother, before the attack that left her face covered in scars, that she exhaled a breath of surprise. Very little in her features betrayed the non-Japanese half of her parentage. Just as well, since she never knew who her father was other than that he was apparently a wealthy Literati toff with an affinity for brothels. The shorter black hair that had helped draw less attention to her gender in boys clothing looked disturbingly girlish in the dress with all its ornate accents.
She strode away from the mirror and plopped down on the bed, forced into immaculate posture by corset. Macak hopped up on her shoulders, landing light enough not to cause pain in still tender scar there even with his clockwork leg.
Constance made a small distressed squeak like a rusty door hinge and shooed the cat away.
“He was fine there.”
“He’ll get fur on the dress.”
Maeko stared at the fine fabrics spread over her legs. “I can’t go out there like this.”
Constance walked to the vanity and picked up a small bottle of perfume. She took out the stopper, sniffed it daintily then nodded. “Why not?”
“I look…” She paused, searching for a word that would capture the moment. The smell from the now approaching perfume bottle made her wrinkle her nose.
“Like a beautiful young lady,” Constance prompted.
“Absurd.” Maeko sprang up from the bed and sidestepped away from the bottle’s stopper Constance held out to her. At least this time she didn’t stumble in the heeled boots.
Constance gave her a stern look. “You look beautiful. Now let me put some of this on you.” She moved toward Maeko again.
Maeko put her hands up between them and backed away. “No.”
Constance stopped and pulled the bottle in close to her chest. She stared wide-eyed at Maeko, her jaw tightening.
“I can only take so much of this proper lady bollocks at one time. If I must go out dressed like this I will not wear the perfume.” What I wouldn’t give for a simple pair of trousers.
Constance stoppered the bottle and smacked it back down on the vanity. “Very well, Miss, but next time—”
“We’ll talk about next time when it comes around.”
It wasn’t much of a victory, but at least it was a victory.
A knock drew their attention to the door. It opened to reveal Lucian standing there, his expression far more stern than morose this time, enhanced by the fresh trim of his moustache and tidied hair. He pinned Maeko with his gaze as he walked into the room. “Please excuse us, Ms. Foster.”
Constance curtsied and darted out the door. As if the corset alone weren’t bad enough, his look and the maid’s reaction to it made Maeko feel a bit short of breath. She forced a smile. Lucian walked around her and stopped by the vanity, gazing solemnly down at it.
“Is something wrong?”
He drew in a heavy breath. “Did you sell it?”
She took a wary step closer. “Sell what?”
He turned to her, eyes brimming with bitter accusation. “My daughter’s elephant.”
Rage swelled until she felt like a blister ready to burst. Anger narrowed her vision. She fought to rein it in, but that only made the accusation hurt more.
“Why did you bring me here if that’s how little you think of me?” He looked taken aback by the vehemence in her reply, but she didn’t let him respond. She blinked against the sting of tears. “You know what I am and perhaps that’s all I’ll ever be to you, but if you believe I would steal your dead daughter’s things to sell on the street after you took me in, you’re not what I thought you were. The bloody elephant is in the top drawer of the vanity. I put it there because I was afraid of breaking it.”
Lucian hung his head. He placed a hand on the drawer handle, but didn’t open it. “Maeko, I’m sorry.” His long fingers tightened on the handle, knuckles turning white with the tightness of his grip. “She was my little girl.” His voice cracked.
You deserve to hurt. Guilt swept in on the heels of that thought. She took another step toward him. “Maybe I shouldn’t be staying here. You already helped my mum. That’s enough.”
He drew in another deep breath. “No. You don’t belong on the streets. You should be here. Giving you a better life is the least I can do. I shouldn’t have accused like that. I don’t know why I didn’t ask first.”
“Because I’m a pickpocket and a sneak thief,” she answered.
“You are a remarkable young woman who suffered a great deal to save a foolish man’s life. I brought you here because you are so much more than what your life has led you to.”
Am I? She said nothing.
He opened the drawer then and drew the elephant out, cradling it in the palm of his hand. “Go on out. I’ll be there in a moment.”
She left him there, happy to put the unfortunate encounter behind, and followed the rich aromas of cooked meat and warm bread down the hall. Her mouth immediately began to water. It was a shame she wouldn’t be able to eat any of that delicious smelling food with the silly corset squishing her stomach up into her throat.
The arrival of Garrett and his family killed much of her appetite anyway. Captain Garrett’s limp from the gunshot wound Em left him with—when she thought him guilty of murdering Lucian’s family—was much improved. She hadn’t seen Ash, Garrett’s eldest son, since he’d held her in the coach on the way to have her injuries tended after they rescued Lucian. She wanted to see him again, but not like this. Not with all the annoying proper etiquette forcing them to greet one another politely and sit quiet over supper. His discreet approving smile when she greeted him didn’t help her relax either. Perhaps he meant it as a compliment, but it made her feel self-conscious while she tried to hold up her end of a frivolous chat with Garrett’s wife Julia.
Aside from being Garrett’s wife, Julia was also a member of his Pirate band, that Maeko had first met in a pub over near Cheapside. The talk of dresses and food didn’t seem to suite her temperament either, but perhaps it was simply an attempt at propriety for their host’s sake. It was deathly boring and Maeko found herself studying details of the room to stop herself from dwelling on all the mouthwatering food she didn’t h
ave space for in her ridiculous attire.
The table laden with its burden of savory selections had ornate carved legs and was polished to the point that she could see her own reflection in the dark wood surface. The chairs had elaborate wrought iron scrollwork set into the backs and the legs were scaled down versions of those on the table. A handsome standing clock at the far end of the room and the fancy curio cabinet full of fine silver dishes and various intricate clockwork devices along the other wall held her attention for a time. That she couldn’t forget what those dishes and trinkets would sell for on the street only served as a reminder that she didn’t belong here in these fancy rooms wearing fancy clothes.
At the end of dinner, Garret and Lucian retreated to the study to talk business and have a smoke. The rest of them moved into the front sitting room. Julia sat twisting her wedding ring around on her finger and watching her younger son Samuel, his rigid fake leg set off at an odd angle to work around the center table, while he stroked Macak on the settee and made wistful comments about the cat’s much more functional prosthesis. Maeko watched from another chair, finding few words to contribute. Ash stood flipping through Lucian’s stack of science journals much too fast to be reading anything.
He set the last one down and glanced at Julia. “Mum, can I take Maeko out to see the airship?”
Julia eyed them both and Maeko feared she would insist that she or perhaps Constance accompany them. The dreaded idea of chaperones, another foolish shackle deemed necessary by high society. Then she gave a tiny shrug. “I suppose that would be fine, but don’t mess with anything, not even if Jack says you can.”
“Thanks.” Ash stood and gestured with a jerk of his head toward the door on the far side of the formal dining room that led up to the airship dock.
It took considerable restraint not to leap up and sprint out the door. Maeko made herself walk over and up the short flight of stairs beyond the door with a modicum of dignity if not with grace, trying to show that she was enough of an adult to be trusted alone with Ash. An enclosed guardhouse stood to one side of where they came up. The tower kept that post manned at all hours since the murders. The guard there nodded as they passed, never quite taking his attention away from the newspaper he was reading.
Garrett’s airship was the only one anchored there, the same bulky patched up model she had seen landing the first time she visited the Airship Tower in search of Macak’s owner, the night she’d found Lucian’s wife and daughter dead.
Perhaps someday everything here would stop reminding her of that awful sight.
Warm light shone through the windows of a gondola attached to the underside of the airship. She could see the other two members of the Pirate band inside sitting back and having a chinwag, their feet rested up on the controls and drinks in hand. Their laughter crept out into the night, sounding impossibly far away from within the enclosed space.
Ash hunched his shoulders to the brisk night breeze and she sympathized, wishing she had thought to grab a shawl or something to keep away the chill. At least the breeze had blown away much of the smog, giving them a view of the city with its many gas lamps and houselights glowing, a sparse array of landlocked stars in the darkness.
As curious as she was about the airship, they couldn’t talk privately there so she adjusted her course, heading over to the darkest edge of the roof where comforting shadows waited to welcome her. She placed her hands on the rail. So cold. The steel was smooth, like ice under her fingers, sending gooseflesh up her arms. Ash stopped beside her and she could see him watching her from the corner of her eye.
He had made it clear that he cared about her as more than a friend. He would be expecting her to figure out who she wanted to be with, but she hadn’t even known Chaff had deeper feelings for her until the moment he kissed her. How could she choose between them when it was all still so new and confusing?
“Is something wrong, Mae?”
At least he pronounced her name right, Ma-eh and not May as Chaff liked to say to get under her skin. And yet, the thought of that teasing lifted her spirits and brought a fleeting smile to her lips. “I’m a little surprised your mum let you come out here alone with me.”
“Why?”
“I’m not the type of girl most parents want their sons around.”
He took her hand, his gentle pull encouraging her to face him. She gave in, not ready to face him, but not wanting to hurt his feelings by refusing.
“Don’t be droll. You’ve come up in the world and, if it isn’t too forward of me to say so, society looks splendid on you.”
What to say to that? She met his lovely pale green eyes and darted her gaze away from the open admiration in them. His praise was too forward to be appropriate, but she didn’t care much for propriety. She knew what she should say, though the words didn’t feel right when she forced them past her lips. “Thank you.”
He took a step closer, one warm hand, calloused from working on airships with his father, still held hers, his gorgeous eyes all but glowing in the dim moonlight, his dark hair mussed by the breeze.
Her heart sped up and she flushed, wondering if he could feel the racing pulse through her hand.
His voice was soft when he spoke this time, a deep whisper. “I’ve been yearning to see you again.”
In retrospect, finding the darkest part of the roof might have been a bad choice.
He reached out and placed a hand on her cheek, his touch awkward and uncertain, a slight tremble in his fingers. His gaze dropped to her lips.
What would it be like to kiss him? She started to step closer, drawn by the need and desire in his eyes.
CHAPTER FIVE
Chaff popped into her mind then, the touch of his lips on hers, the way his strong hand felt so sure and confident holding her to him, his perfect scoundrel grin when he’d drawn away from that stolen kiss.
Her cheeks flushed hot and she stepped back from Ash, leaving him leaning in with one hand hanging in the air where her cheek had been. A regretful ache rose in her chest and she pulled her hand away, turning to stare out over the rail again. Ash stood staring at her for a long moment before he too turned to look out over the rail, his fierce gaze tearing into the darkness. In the tension-filled silence that stretched between them, the banter of a couple walking in the street below rose up to the rooftop, the woman’s heartfelt laugh shimmering like a star in the dark. How happy they sounded. What dreadful timing they had.
Maeko chewed at her lip.
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
She glanced at Ash, unable to admit it even though she knew exactly what he meant. “What? Who?”
“It’s because of that bloody street rat. You’re sweet for him, aren’t you.”
Maeko turned on him, the comforting boil of defensive anger chasing away pangs of guilt. “I’m not sweet for him. And it would serve you well to remember that I’m no more than a street rat myself.” She winced at her own hypocrisy, defending a title she typically regarded as an insult.
“Yes you are,” he snapped then swept a hand out to point toward the door that would take them back to Lucian’s flat. “You’ve left that life behind.”
“No, I haven’t, Ash. Dresses and fancy coaches don’t change who a person is. No amount of money will ever erase the fact that I was born in a brothel and spent most of my life on the streets with that bloody street rat looking after me—”
“Using you!”
His face flushed with anger now. She imagined hers was much the same. Not a flattering emotion.
“You’re wrong. You’re wrong about him and you’re wrong about me.” Her throat tightened and she threw up her hands. “To hell with all this proper bollocks!” She spun away, wavered precariously on her heel a moment before catching her balance, then stalked back to the door. Ash didn’t follow. That was almost as much a disappointment as it was a relief. Maybe he was beginning to realize she wasn’t worth the trouble.
Confusion made a maelstrom of her thoughts and her vision blu
rred. She yanked off the boots at the bottom of the stairs, slunk through the kitchen to avoid Julia and Sam in the front room, and hurried down the hall to her borrowed bedroom. She shut the door gently, not wanting to alert the two men in the adjacent study, and flopped down on the bed. The dolls on the dresser stared at her, their perfect little faces and round rosy cheeks made her want to smash them. She rolled onto her side, putting her back to them.
There was a light knock on the door several minutes later. Maeko said nothing, hoping whoever it was might go away. The door opened. Macak jumped up on the bed and trotted over to her, the articulated metal armor of his false leg gleaming when the intruder lit a sconce alongside the door.
“Miss Maeko.”
Constance. “Yes.”
“Young Mr. Asher said you excused yourself because you weren’t feeling well.”
Maeko said nothing. Macak licked her hand.
“It’s probably the corset. They take some getting used to. Let me help you out of those clothes and I’ll make your excuses.”
Here at last was a benefit of stuffy society life that she could appreciate. Usually she had to make all her own excuses.
She let Constance help her out of her clothes and changed into the night shift the maid pulled out for her. After Constance turned out the light and left, she sat cross-legged on the bed, listening and petting Macak, waiting for the house to go to sleep so she could begin the work that had nothing to do with proper society or boys. Eventually, she heard the distant hiss of the airship crew releasing air from the ballonets to gain lift. A minute later, the engines kicked in.
A twist of guilt burned like acid in her stomach. Had she turned Ash away because of Chaff or was it that nagging certainty that he would never really understand her? Did he honestly want Maeko the uncivilized street rat or was he more interested in the society lady he expected her to become now that Lucian had taken her in?
The Girl and the Clockwork Conspiracy: Clockwork Enterprises Book Two Page 3
