by Vivian Lane
It was the most expensive thing Catherine had ever put on her body in her life.
“It was a bit complicated to adjust the length, but not so difficult in a week. Surprisingly comfortable, yes?”
“Yeah… I can still breathe.”
The dressmaker nodded. “It is the new flexible material for the stays. The boning holds its shape, but is not nearly so rigid as in the past. Fashion need not be torture. So, you’re happy with it?”
Catherine turned to face her, smiling. “Very much so. It’s…wow. It’s too beautiful for me, but I’ll wear it proudly!”
“I think it suits you just fine, Miss Mitchell. Now, out of the dress! You need hair and make-up, and…”
People instantly swarmed her. They helped her out of the dress, wrapped her in a robe, and plopped her down in the chair. She was primped head-to-toe in a whirlwind of activity. Eating was allowed until they did her lipstick, so she nibbled on little pastries and canapés.
She was nervous. She did want to make a good impression that evening, pass the test of her training, but she also had plans of her own. She couldn’t pass up on the chance of escaping while she was already in London. Her bag was packed with everything she couldn’t bear to part with, buried at the bottom under her things for tonight. She only had to get away from William while they were still in London and make it into daylight where he couldn’t follow.
“Miss Mitchell… Wake up, dear. It’s time to get you dressed.”
Catherine blinked. “Sorry…” It was easy to be lulled into a daze when someone was playing with your hair.
The vision in the mirror was so removed from the girl that arrived there four weeks ago. Her hair had been slicked back from her face, then twisted and curled into an intricate bundle at the back of her head, crystal pins holding it all together. Her eyes were defined in black with smoky shades of charcoal and lavender blended up toward her brows. Plum-pink color graced her lips with a touch of gloss in the center for dimension.
She was handed the beaded earrings that match her dress.
Back behind the screen to discard her robe, she adjusted her bustier, then stepped into the gown. The ribbons were cinched a bit tighter this time, prompting her to glare at the assistant.
“Your shoes, miss?”
Catherine lifted the hem of her dress and stepped into one, then the other stiletto sandal. Simple black satin.
Once fastened, she walked out to face the crowd. “Well?” she asked, turning for the assembly.
“You’ll stop traffic,” Alicia said.
“Alicia! What are you doing here?”
“Making sure you’re on time. William was anxious, not that he’ll admit to it. Ready?”
“Just have to grab my cloak and my bag,” she said.
The long black velvet cloak hid her dress from view until the perfect moment as well as providing warmth on this chilly evening.
They rode down in the elevator alone.
“You know, I haven’t even asked what we’re seeing,” Catherine mused.
“Probably something morbid and dull. I prefer the American Halloween with its bow to capitalist gain. The children really do make out with an excellent deal, except for the potential razor blades and poison in the candy.”
“My parents took me trick-or-treating every year when I was a kid. It was fun.” The limousine was waiting out front. “Is he in there?” she asked.
“Oh, just go! You have to see him sometime tonight. Really, you humans and your petty arguments…” Alicia groused. She pushed Catherine through the door first.
The chauffeur opened the door as they came out.
William stood, wearing a wool coat over a black tuxedo. “Miss Mitchell. You look lovely this evening.”
She nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you, sir.” She handed her satchel to the chauffeur who placed it in the trunk, and offered her gloved hand to William. He kissed it, then helped her into the car.
“Play nice, you two,” Alicia said cheerfully, then vanished.
Once inside the car and moving along, neither knew what to say first. Catherine finally swallowed her pride and asked what they were seeing.
“’Classical Music for Halloween’. I kid you not. They’ve put together a ghost story to scary music, or something.”
“Well, there are several works that fit in tone. Was Faust too expensive to produce? I’d think it would be perfect for Halloween. A moral tale warning against deals with the devil?”
“I think Mephistopheles gets a bum rap in that one. Soddin’ humans screwed it up for themselves.”
She rolled her eyes. “I take it you saw it after you were turned?”
“Not the first time. Took my mum one year while I was still in university.”
“Well, it’ll be nice to listen to music. I used to play the violin.”
“Did you, now?”
She nodded. “In elementary school. I was…competent. Always struggled with the fingering. I didn’t get very far with piano for the same reason.”
“Your parents pushed you in the Arts?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘pushed’. They encouraged us in all subjects. They both worked in education.”
“Us? I thought you were an only child.”
“Me and my foster brother. They placed him with another family when my parents were killed. My grandmother was willing to take him in, but Child Services thought two teenagers would be too much for her,” she said. “Did you have any siblings?”
“One.”
“Oh. What happened?”
“She was kidnapped.”
“That must have been hard for your family.”
He shrugged. “I got you something.” He fished into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box. “Alicia told me the color of your dress, so I thought these would suit it well.” He opened the jewelry box to reveal a choker of South Sea pearls.
Catherine’s eyes widened to comic proportions. “Please tell me you didn’t buy this just for tonight!”
He scoffed. “Oh, heaven’s no! They’re on loan. If you don’t want to wear it—”
“No…they’re beautiful. I’d be honored. Um, will you help me?” She unclasped her cloak, letting it slip off her bare shoulders, and turned her back to him.
He took the necklace out of the box and unhooked the clasp, then draped it around her neck. “Is this too tight?” he murmured, his breath tickling the fine hairs at her nape.
“It’s fine,” she said, actively trying not to shiver.
He fastened the clasp on a link and withdrew back to his seat. “Let’s see how it looks.”
She straightened in her seat, angling to face him. The choker was very simply designed—two rows of black pearls in graduated sizes, the largest centered in the hollow of her throat. With the size and rarity of the pearls, it had to be worth at least $20,000.
“Exquisite,” he said, looking into her eyes.
She felt a warm flush creep up her neck as she re-fastened the cloak. The heat in his gaze was exactly why she didn’t want to reveal the dress until they were in public. Why had she let Alicia encourage her to pick something so revealing? They’d done very well the past few days not having any lusty, tense moments, and now he was looking at her like that again.
Thankfully, the limo pulled up to the venue at that moment.
William exited first, then held out his hand for her. “Milady.”
“Thank you.” She looked around at the other arrivals, most of them middle-aged or elderly couples dressed to the nines. “Is it always this formal?” she asked.
He waved it off. “It’s a thing. There’s the concert, and the party, and a charity auction…an excuse to play ‘Who’s got the biggest checkbook’. You’ll probably see a few Hollywood types, too.”
“Oh. How’d you get in, then?”
He smirked. “I have my sources.” They passed through the doors and reached the coat check. He stopped and looked at her expectantly.
“Oh…yes…” Catherine s
et her purse on the counter and took off the cloak, passing it carefully to the clerk, who handed her a numbered ticket.
“Sir?” he said, nodding to William’s coat.
“I’m fine, mate.” He turned to her and released a low-pitched whistle. “Well worth the wait, love. Remind me to tip your dressmaker.” His eyes blatantly raked over her form.
“Yes, fine. Can we find our seats, please?”
He winked, and offered her his arm. She accepted, not looking at him.
There were whispers in the halls as they headed up to their box. Everyone wanted to know “who the striking couple was” and “where they came from”.
He soaked it up while she squirmed inside. She didn’t like being the center of so much attention, and let out a sigh of relief when they finally reached their box and the attendant checked their tickets. There were two rows of four seats each. William guided her to the front center two and took off his coat, laying it on the seat next to him.
“That thing’s precious to you, huh?”
“Killed someone for it,” he said, unashamed.
“Very funny.”
“I spent over a century taking what I wanted, Catherine.” They were high above the orchestra, but could see the entire stage. “Would you like a pair of those little optics?”
“Oh, opera glasses? No, it’s not necessary. Thank you.” She smoothed her dress under her and carefully sat down, feeling his eyes on her cleavage. “Are you going to do that all night?” she quietly snapped.
“What?”
She glared at him. “Stare at my breasts. I can feel it.”
“Hey, you chose the dress, kitten. I’m only a man.”
“You…! God, you’re insufferable!”
“And you’re even prettier when you’re angry,” he countered, his eyes flicking to her heaving bosom.
She made a sound of disgust and stood to move to another seat. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down. “Careful, pet. I didn’t want to alarm you, but there’s every possibility Tallis has someone watching you tonight. Might want to think about how you behave.”
“You told him we’d be here?”
“He did say he’d check in on your progress, and this was the nearest event I could book to test your training. Maybe they won’t watch you up here, but there will definitely be someone at the party. Whose side do you want to be on at the end of the night?”
The message was clear: be the perfect little lady, or get turned over to Tallis. Her eyes narrowed into angry slits. “I hate you,” she whispered.
“Maybe. But you need me. We all have our crosses to bear. So, be a good girl, hmm?”
She nodded. He let go, and she leaned back in her seat, tears pricking her eyes.
Just get through tonight.
Catherine began to relax once the house lights went down and the music started. There was just enough indirect light to follow her program if she tilted it a certain way. Bach, Brahms, Mozart…lesser known composers…it was surprising how much of the older stuff was “scary” sounding, or suspenseful.
She glanced at him occasionally, but he seemed focused on the music.
Intermission snuck up on her. Had it been an hour and a half already?
“I’m going to make a trip to the ladies’ room,” she said to her date.
“Don’t get lost,” he said with good humor.
“Ha, ha.”
After successfully negotiating the toilet in her dress, she stood at the mirror and retouched her lipstick.
“Those pearls really complement your complexion, dear,” said one woman.
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to be out tonight. It has been a while for me since I’ve enjoyed a full orchestra,” Catherine said.
“You’re American!” remarked another. “Have you been visiting long?”
“A few weeks. It took me a bit to get used to, as I’m from California.”
“Oh! Is it true that you can see movie stars driving down the streets?”
“Not so much. Only in a couple places in L.A.”
“Did an American designer do your dress?” asked another woman.
“No, I got it here.”
The lights flashed off and on, indicating they should head back to their seats. The old biddies sighed, their gossip session cut short.
Catherine was relieved.
“What took you so long?” William asked as she sat down.
“Women in formal wear in a bathroom. You do the math. It’s not easy keeping your dress out of the bowl or not stepped on. And then, there’s the line.”
“I get the picture,” he said, and chuckled. “I could get you to the front next time you have to visit the loo.”
“That’s okay, William.”
The lights dimmed once more.
“For the second part of the evening, there will be a reading of Edgar Allan Poe’s A Tell-Tale Heart, accompanied by the orchestra.”
“Oh, I love Poe’s stories! I had some in a set of children’s horror books my father gave me. I read them many times.”
“Wouldn’t have taken you for a fan of Gothic fiction.”
“I don’t know about that…only Poe. And The Count of Monte Cristo. It was very different stuff from the typical Disney fairytales. I had a book of Grimm’s tales, too.”
“Baby has a dark side,” he teased.
“Oh, hush…”
He watched and waited for just the right…suspenseful…moment, and grabbed her arm. She levitated off her seat, gasping, and smacked his arm. “Don’t do that!” she whispered.
“But it’s fun.”
“Evil!”
“Uh, yeah. Vampire.”
“Jerk,” she said, smiling.
His hand still on her arm, he trailed his fingers along her skin, goose bumps rising up in their wake. “I’m sorry for pissing you off earlier.”
“Thought vampires didn’t do apologies.”
He smiled, self-consciously. “Not often. So take it while it counts. I’d rather see you smile.”
Confessions in the dark? “Going soft on me now?” she teased.
That smirk came back again. “Quite the opposite.”
“Naughty.”
He looked down at her fingers, tracing the veins. “I’m glad you took the gloves off.” His finger trailed from the valley between her ring and middle-finger knuckles up to her shoulder, his eyes following the course to her neck. “You’ve been turning every head tonight, you know that? No, I bet you haven’t even realized…”
“William…”
“I don’t want to turn you over to him,” he added with conviction. It was said quietly, and he was still looking over her shoulder, but there was no doubt he was serious about what he said. There was only a question of why?
“Then don’t,” she whispered.
His gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips and back again. She waited, holding her breath. She didn’t know what he was going to do, or what she wanted him to do. He leaned in those few inches, pausing just shy of kissing her to give her a chance to bolt. She was still frozen.
He closed the gap, his kiss gentle and achingly slow, full of longing, holding himself back for her benefit. She could feel it in the tremor of his hand resting on the knob of her spine at the base of her neck, resisting pulling her in and kissing her senseless. It was a short kiss, maybe thirty seconds, but it left her more aroused than their last session of practically mauling each other. They were touching foreheads, breathing in each other’s breath, though only one of them needed to.
“Wanna get out of here?” he murmured.
“We should see the night through,” she said, her voice kind.
He nodded and sat up straight, turning his attention forward. She placed her left hand on his right where it sat on the armrest. He looked at her in surprise, but she was facing the stage.
The performance had been well received and people were leaving in a good mood. Those without other plans were heading for the party.
William and Catherine walked side-by-side, his hand on her back, like he was testing how close he could get to wrapping his arm around her waist. His thumb kept brushing the bare skin between the laces of her dress, making her tingle.
The meeting space had been transformed into an elegant ballroom, with champagne fountains and hors d’oeuvres no one could pronounce. A three-piece band was already playing at one end of the room. A few couples were swaying to the music.
“Do you actually know anyone here?” she whispered.
“Don’t know. We just walked in the door, love,” he said, teasing. He steered her over to the refreshments. “Champagne?”
“I’m underage,” she hissed.
“Not in England. Drinkin’ age is eighteen.” He handed her a flute. “Sip it slowly. Most birds like the stuff.”
“I’m more interested in dinner,” she grumbled. Not that I can fit anything in this dress.
He winked and dropped a strawberry in her glass. She would’ve stuck her tongue out at him if they’d been somewhere less formal.
She followed him around the room while he surveyed the crowd. People noticed them—the man and the girl that had to be at least ten years his junior. At least, that’s what she assumed they must have been thinking. She would have fit more appropriately as someone’s daughter here, not a handsome man’s date.
Natural predator that he was, William both assessed every being in the room and held their attention. They couldn’t take their eyes off the great hunter and his trophy.
“We’ve made a circuit around the room; can we go now?” she asked.
He looked at her, surprised. “Not enjoying yourself?”
“Not when everyone keeps staring at us!” she whispered back.
He sidled closer. “Hottest couple in the room, love, why wouldn’t they?”
“Hello, ego? More like they’re gossiping that I’m your trophy date.”
“Really…”
“William, even with your immortality, you’re obviously at least ten years older than me. People say things.”
